From rush line with love

It was a Sunday. The final day of TIFF 2012 and my last chance to see Paul Thomas Anderson’s The Master. Tickets had been sold out but I’d had such good luck with rush lines that year, I figured, why not give it a shot?

Rush lines are not for the weak-willed: the hotter the ticket, the longer the wait. For something like The Master, I figured getting there three hours in advance would let me snap up one of the lastminute tickets. It did not. Little did I realize that fate had another plan for me, though.

I’m not the type of person to strike up a conversation while waiting in a queue. I’m an introvert by nature, and have always preferred people watching to small talk as a way to pass the time. But I’m not so adverse that I won’t engage if someone else happens to want to chat. Which is exactly what happened when the handsome dark-eyed guy in line next to me asked me about my favourite PTA films. And not in the sometimes accusatory manner of some male cinephiles – “Oh you like Scorsese? Name three of his music docs” – but with curiosity.

It didn’t occur to me until later that I had experienced a “meet-cute,” a trope of romantic comedies in which the attractive leads meet for the first time, usually in some sweet and charming way. However, romance was not on my mind at the time. For starters, in anticipation of the lengthy queue, I was wearing a sweatshirt, old running shoes and a comfortable but unflattering pair of jeans. I should have known that my winning personality and perfect face could outshine all of that.

After getting shut out of The Master, The Guy and a few other line buddies we’d made decided to grab drinks at the pub across the street. I could only stay with the group for a couple of hours, as I had a ticket to see Terrence Malick’s To the Wonder that evening. The Guy and I exchanged contact info, and I left for the Lightbox again.

While settling into my seat, my phone pinged. It was The Guy, confessing his attraction to me and playing one last Hail Mary: “I know it’s a long shot, but let’s go on a date. Right now.” I was conflicted. The movie was about to start, and I barely knew him. But the candour of his romantic gesture was too beguiling to resist. Why not take a cue from rom-coms again, and act spontaneously? I left the Lightbox and met him for a drink.

Did I find true love at TIFF? No. After a couple of dates it fizzled out. That film fest rush of endorphins couldn’t hold us together. But I don’t regret taking a chance – though, I still haven’t seen To the Wonder.