Many times, when my Caucasian amigos go for a night out at the movies with me, I tend to slightly embarrass them by going full Latino and pulling out a spare crying baby about 15 minutes into the feature.
Bromeando, bromeando.
But I do manage to raise some eyebrows, drop some jaws and rumble some tummies, however, because as soon as the lights go down, the snack-bar in mis pantalones is open for business as I start uncovering and unwrapping a wide variety of confecciones y concesiones that no lobby this side of the border would bother to stock, much to the chagrin of la Raza and the good money we just threw down to see the latest summer blockbusters such as The Avengers: Infinity War, Solo: A Star Wars Story and the most recent La India Maria comedy.
A seemingly ancient tradition passed down from generación a generación ever since Pedro Infante first charroed his way across the silver screen, like Jesus and his loaves and fishes, penny-pinching Latina mothers and grandmothers have managed to economically reason and magically position entire buffets in their handbags just to avoid paying five dollars for a soda, feeding a handful of familial seat-fillers with a diverse range of eats at a mere fraction of the price.
The overpriced popcorn is played out, yesterday’s frankfurters are for the dogs and sorry bro, but those barely qualify as nachos. But, now a bagful of manager’s special pan dulce or last night’s leftover chuletas de puerco still wrapped in the foil…who needs a trip to the theater lobby when your neighborhood mercado has an even wider variety of pelicula-ready refreshments specifically designed to crunch and/or munch while sitting in a darkened theater?