As always, now is a time for reflection, but since I have no intention of turning this blog into an evaluation, I'll share some older memories with you first.
I mentioned it before, I used to work in the Pathe cinema during my studies. This means that I've spent 5 years making and selling popcorn, pouring liters of coke, cleaning chairs, disposing garbage, cleaning white doors, washing puke out of a guy's hair, sweeping floors and selling tickets.
Once a year the building, my building, was taken over by IFFR-people. And I hated it. They were arrogant snobs, looking down on us 'commercial guys', prohibiting people to take their coffee into the cinema, sticking posters on the walls (leaving tape-marks that I would have to clean up afterwards) and they did not have to wear a uniform, like us, in a time the girls still had to wear a skirt, yellow shirts and a scarf tied around the neck. Throwing down the IFFR banners
was a ritual that I looked forward to most, especially at the end of the Volkskrant-dag.So what happened?
The parties, getting to know the people (I made sure the location-manager knew my name and where to find me), a sense of unfullfillment in regular day-job causing a longing for a trip down Pathe-lane; just selling tickets.
(picture was taken 2 years ago, btw)
During my Pathe-years I bonded with Tanja over an IFFR-incident. As some of you might know, IFFR people take their refreshments very serious. That is, coffee and espresso, not so much the popcorn or sweets, which, contrary to what happens in the box-office, practically remains untouched for ten days. And those who do not bring their own flask of herbal tea, are condemned to queue. I also had a woman who refused to pay 1,80 for her hot water, because 'she had brought her own tea bags'... A few years ago Pathe only had one (1) coffee-machine. For over one-thousand (1000) customers. Can you imagine that? Now picture the same machine breaking down due to heavy usage. So I had to climb on top of the counter and shout to an angry mob that there was no more coffee, and that yes, this also meant no more capuccino (or tea or espresso). Well, that culturally responsible, environmentally and otherwise appropriate left wing crowd turned terribly sour and was ready to lynch me. I survived but sharing this with Tanja left us with similar scars and a fear of Volkskrant-readers.
The films aren't really the highlight for me. I was watching a documentary about the very serious problem of soil-polution and illegal garbage dumps in Italy. I guess I wanted to see something responsible, but kept dozing off untill a text-message from Tanja saved me. Of course having chips with her at Schippers-chips is much more important than watching this, well, garbage.
Or yesterday, queueing for one hour and then falling asleep in a film about loud, drinking French college-students. Or watching ecoline-stains change colour, for an hour and a half. Falling asleep is casual damage or a welcome powernap, depending on how tired you are. Over the years I also learned to get up and walk out, a skill proving to be very helpfull in the rest of my life.
Of course IFFR is also the perfect place to rebound and creating new memories that you might like to forget as soon as the festival is over. Now these war-stories about single and not-so-single men are not suitable for a public blog, and should only be shared in a one-2-one dialogue. Even then they contain a kiss-and-don't-tell-clause. You can always ask, but I don't guarantee a satisfying answer.
For now, this tiger is going to bed and gain some sleep before the grand finale of the End-party, the Volkskrantdag and the volunteers-party.
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