Lines

Sitting outside the AMC on a Sunday, enjoying the sun and the cool breeze, it struck me that I can’t remember the last time I stood in line to buy movie tickets.

Even before I was an AMC A-List member, I would make reservations online and bring in a confirmation number. Even as far back as twenty-some-odd years ago, you could order movie tickets using the phone. Gone are the days when people lined up trying to be the first to see a popular movie.

I remember waiting in line as a child for Return of the Jedi. I remember a midnight showing of the second Matrix — after which I vowed to never see another midnight show again.

Now I order tickets on my phone. Food comes to my seat, pre-ordered, of course. The line isn’t needed anymore.

You can still wait in one, if you choose. But instead, I like the sun and the cool breeze.

I have the memories of long lines. I don’t miss them. I don’t yearn for their return. I don’t enjoy standing in a line.

The lines don’t exist, but access to the story does.

Maybe that’s the point. Access to the story.

I go to the movies to see a story. To be entertained. To recharge and refuel. I don’t have to worry about the show selling out. My seats are already assigned. Lines are a novelty now — as is going to a movie where the seats weren’t.

I wonder if those theaters still exist?

What’s something you used to wait for — a line, a process, a ritual — that’s gone now, and do you actually miss it, or just the access it gave you?