themarquee

How shame begets pride on UberEATS

It was 9:34 p.m. I’d had a long day. Work had been tough. A date had cancelled on me at the last minute. And now, I was lying on my living-room floor in a stupor, trying to find solace from an all too familiar source: UberEATS. But as I scrolled past the local delivery selections, I found myself repeatedly going back to an unexpected option.

You can now order overpriced movie snacks from Cineplex — yes, directly from the theatre — to be delivered to your home. Ignoring the irony of how many times I had snuck food and drinks into a theatre, I justified my decision by telling myself that I was going to watch a movie at home anyway, why not go all in on the experience? So, moving past the individual popcorn,

nachos, chocolate bar and soda fountain selections, I came across the “ultimate movie snacks combo.” It was an everything option that included one large popcorn (buttered on the top and middle), large nachos with cheese, two hot dogs, Twix bites, a Coca-Cola and a Fanta Orange.

An hour after I hit “order,” an older man arrived on roller blades. With the judgmental gaze of a strict parent, he handed over an impossibly large bag of food. The moment I took it, he dashed down the lobby and out the door, as if the contents he passed to me might include vials of an infectious disease. When I laid out the evening’s menu (which covered the majority of my dinner table), I would’ve been convinced that the bag did indeed contain nothing short of poison, if not for the smell of butter that began to waft through my apartment like an entrancing perfume. The monstrosity of the feast before me did give me pause, though. Considering I wasn’t in an actual theatre, I could feel my self-respect take a sudden plunge. Not helping matters was the appearance of some particularly sad accoutrements like the disturbingly smooth “chunky” salsa and a cup of sliced jalapeños that seemed to be mocking my efforts at dinner and a movie.

To soothe my ails, I flipped on my entertainment for the night: Destination Wedding, starring Winona Ryder and Keanu Reeves. The lowbudget rom-com went criminally unnoticed earlier this year despite co-starring the true ultimate movie snacks combo. The premise is simple: the two meet in line for a flight, and quickly discover that they are both headed to the same wedding, and also that they kinda hate each other. The two curmudgeons slowly unite, however, drawn together by their mutual disdain for other people.

I don’t know if it was the growing sexual tension between Keanu and Winona or the abundance of salt flowing through my system, but over the course of the night, I became emboldened in my decision to order in from a movie theatre of all places. “Screw people,” I thought to myself. I wasn’t about to be judged by a rollerblading deliveryman and his pronounced disdain for my life choices. So, thirsty for validation, and in an effort to dispel any sense of humiliation, I decided to broadcast my spoils on Instagram.

Quickly, my evening became a sideshow for my followers who, unlike what the voice in my head had warned, were envious of my date with Keanu, Winona and all the carbs in the world. By shamelessly owning my debauchery, my spectators decided that I had won the weekend. Karma agreed; I’d also scored a date with a man who slid into my DMs asking if I’d like to go to “a real movie” in “a real theatre.” I’m still not sure what he was implying about the veracity of my evening (but I accepted)!

By this time, Keanu and Winona, too, had leaned into and romantically profited from their predicament as their mounting tension culminated in a rather bloodless sex scene. As I cradled the popcorn between my legs, I realized, for them and myself, there could be no lower depth — in theory. In actuality, however, I firmly believe there is no greater popcorn than movie-theatre popcorn. No greater company than my own. And not much better entertainment than a movie. As Keanu warded off a mountain lion by gurgling his throat, I roared with laughter and was hit with a sudden realization: I was having a really great night.

Sure, I awoke the next morning feeling much the way one does after a one night stand you sort of knew would be a bad idea at the time. But what was left of the popcorn remained edible and was, honestly, still pretty good! I munched on it with a cup of tea, later delightfully discovering kernels between the cushions and a nacho in the pocket of my pyjamas I had perhaps saved for later.

What had felt like a crime scene had blossomed into a spoil of riches with the clarity of morning. A week before, I may have lamented an unproductive, antisocial evening, or spent it cursing the man who had cancelled on me, but instead, I felt elated and carefree.

Would I do it again? Absolutely. Perhaps not with quite so much of the menu, but I don’t see the trouble with popcorn for breakfast. All it cost was $46.29. And a little bit of my dignity — a healthy sacrifice on occasion.