“Across the highway, bulldozers sat waiting like an army that had the advantage. Come Monday morning, they’d advance to pulverize the old Cinegore Theater into dust, and in its place would be new condos, a phone store, and a Starbucks. Oh, yay. “Kevin! Just in time.” As I shimmied under the concessions counter, my best friend, Dave, reached over and dragged me to him into selfie position, his phone held high above our faces. I sighed. “Don’t do this.” “C’mon, dude. We should record this moment.”... “Can’t the moment just be a moment?” “Sh-h-h. Try to look pretty.” Dave pursed his lips coyly. I wore my usual expression, something between resignation and disdain—resigdain. The camera blinked, and Dave released me so he could type. “Hashtag: LastNightAtTheCinegore.” “Yeah,” I said, checking the pressure in the soda jets. “Going out with a bang.” “Exactly. Last night,” Dave said meaningfully. He jerked his head in the direction of the lobby’s far end, where the object of my unrequited affections, Dani García, had positioned the yellow DO NOT FALL ON YOUR ASS AND SUE US cone in front of the ladies’ lounge while she mopped.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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