As seems to be normal for us, we got to the cinema late. Wife sent me into the theater, since the promos for Spider-Man had already started, while she got a drink and popcorn.

Place was more than three-quarters full. Chuck was actually keeping a headcount, making sure he didn't sell more tickets than he had seats. Usually doesn't have to do that, except on opening nights. He later said it was 129 folks.

Found three seats together inside the third of fourth row. Stuck between a late-teen couple, who were already getting well acquainted, and a couple pre-preteen boys.

Oh, joy.

Took the middle seat, leaving the wife her option of which side she preferred.

Film had started by the time she came in, slowly following youngest son and her godson. Naturally, the boys took seats farther up. Could see the wife trying to spot me. This theater is dark dark, especially after coming in from the afternoon sun, so I flashed her with my watch dial.

It worked. Gonna have to remember that.

She told me later that she just assumed the two tall people standing along the wall were son and godson. Especially when one helped himself to her popcorn.

She opted for sitting next to the handy man. Kids to my right were actually quite quiet and good, although one had to pee three times late in the movie. Too much pop, too early in the show.

Will save you a movie review. There's lots of diarists out there doing that, if you want. Good flick, mostly good casting. They tried hard with the guy playing Jameson, but it didn't work.

And Willem Defoe is ruined for me, now. Always loved his dark characters, but now I kept seeing him as the uncle of Addieplum's friend. You know, just a guy, now, rather than an character. And the mask for the goblin sucked (It was the mouth. There needed to be some movement in there while he spoke, else we could have been looking at a puppet show.

Spidey was wonderful. All the posture and spontaneity I expected.

The real shocker about the film?

Chuck left the lights off during the credits. Until the very end of the credits. We were the only ones to stay that long, and thanked him as he and his wife came in to clean. He took a few minutes to just visit. He actually cares what people think and say about his theater, and how he runs it.

And he told us we had to see The Rookie.

In fact, he decided we needed to see it so badly that he would let us in free, if we came back tonight (but the boys would have to pay). After much thanks, we did let him know we might not make it (it is actually a guarantee we won't... X-Files tonight, you know, and the wife only has three more episodes to savor).

So, as we were leaving, he decides to give us two free passes, and warns us the film leaves Thursday. (When your community only has one cinema, when a film leaves, it leaves. It doesn't come back. )

He asks, "You want me to write "The Rookie" on these?"

His wife is standing by the door, too. We're the last customers, and she and he are also eager to go home to dinner.

It's up to you, Chuck. If you want us only to use these for The Rookie, then we'll promise that is what we'll use them for.

"Okay." (You have to know Chuck to put the proper enthusiasm in that simple word. But we have just made life simple, and he's happy.)

So, we have two blanks passes for my wife and I to use for The Rookie by Thursday, and Chuck and his wife got home to dinner.

Oh, his parting words as he locked the door behind us?

"Be sure to come hungry!"