Grandma’s Dawn
Amki Moors
‘Excuse me? Excuse me?’
The ticket-clerk looked up with a start. The shrivelled lady in front of him seemed to ooze with self-importance. It steamed from her navy-blue dress-suit and perfectly straightened back.
‘Can I purchase tickets for the fil-ums here?’ she enquired.
Her exaggerated Home-county vowels made him uneasy. ‘Of course. Which movie?’
The lady squinted at the board above his head, then to the little girl that clung to her purse.
‘Crack of dawn, was it?’
‘No Grandma, Breaking Dawn,’ the girl snapped.
‘Two tickets to Break of Dawn, please, dear,’ the lady said.
‘For this afternoon? Would you like to choose seats?’
‘Now listen here, young man. I can’t possibly reply to both questions at once!’
‘I’m sorry, madam…’ said the clerk. Her disapproving eyes latched onto him. He squirmed.
‘I really don’t think that is something we should have to bother deciding. I would think you could simply select the best seats for us. Not to-o close to the screen, mind you. And close enough to the fans. These theatres always get so hot…’
The clerk slouched.
‘And of course we want tickets for this afternoon! Why else would I try to purchase them now?’
The clerk hiccupped and bobbed as he hit the keys on the register.
‘Is that all, madam?’ he asked, his voice brimming with hope.
‘Yes, we won’t need any unhealthy, sugary beverages, will we dear? We shall have a nice, proper te-ea when we get home.’
The girl pouted.
‘That’ll be £14, please.’
‘£14? Young man, they didn’t make such outra-aegeous demands when I went to see Gone with the Wind.’
The clerk was sweating.
‘Well dear, it seems we won’t be able to watch it after all, because this young man apparently wants the shirt off my back…’
The little girl started crying. Then she kept crying, only louder.
‘Are you telling me, that you can do absolutely nothing to help paying customers like myself, and this po-our child?’
He cringed under the prickly stare.
‘Well, madam… Let me call my manager.’
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