The queue stretched omeniously back into the foyer, easily four hundred people plus. A mix of eager, frustrated and plain angry faces, bodies shifting from foot to foot ready to stampede through the door for the best seats. Under aged kids hid under the jackets of their parents, pizza's smuggled in what are not allowed. Oddly bulging bags concealing camera's. Women who profess that their handbags are usually that large. Groups of people who said their friends of manager so and so, and that you should you let them in, they said that at the last showing. Yeap, you hear and see it all.

The crowd swells forward, threatening to drown the two ushers at the gates. Ten tickets were thrust out all at once at them, cheers could be heard from the back. The ushers worked furiously to check and tear tickets all at the same time. Beads of sweat pouring down their faces, after just cleaning the screen from the last hoard who left it a mess, unceremonious heaps of popcorn and drink shrewn across the cinema room floor. Adults are just as bad as children.

Sweaty armpits under red suited jackets now faced a barriage of customers, “no sir, yes madam, do you want to lodge a complaint sir?” replied the ushers, On and on it went, all night.

Well here you are now, about to enter a dark room of visual wizardy, magic and wonder. A space of eternal possibility, imagination played out in the dark mind of a cinema projection room. There's no doubting the wonder of the experience, the moment the light dims, the suspence, sound echoing around that vast room of darkness, an experience shared with others like no other. Even after four years of working there, some how that never dims.