We got to the box office to buy our tickets, but when we said which film we wanted to see, the cinema usher suddenly looked uncomfortable. The colour slowly drained from her cheeks.
After an agonising pause, she finally said, “I’m sorry but this film isn’t really for you. It’s for other people… you know, people who aren’t like you.”
My friend and I stood there, caught somewhere between amazement and incredulity. We began to argue with the usher. “What do you mean – it’s not for us? Why can’t we go in? What sort of cinema is this anyway?”
The more we argued, the more uncomfortable she looked, mumbling things like, “I know, I know... it doesn’t seem fair… If it were up to me, I would let you in… you are more than welcome to see other films, but not this one – its company policy.”
We stood our ground, continued to argue and after a while, she offered to talk to the cinema manager and see what he could do. While this was far from ideal, we reluctantly agreed and she disappeared into his office, leaving us standing there wondering if it was really worth staying.
In the end, we decided to wait, and eventually she came back with a smile.
“I’ve talked to the manager, and he doesn’t agree with the company policy either, but his hands are tied. We can’t sell you tickets to that film – but we can get around it! If you want, I can sneak you in through the side door, and sit you in a corner where no one will see you. I’m afraid you won’t be able the whole screen, but you will get the gist of the film you want to see.”
Now we were completely incredulous.
“But” she continued, “you have to agree not to tell anybody, and you mustn’t let anyone see you, and if you hear certain words – words like ‘thanksgiving’ or ‘blessing’ or ‘marriage’ or ‘ring’ – you must put your hands over your ears and remember that those words don’t apply to you.”
Now we didn’t know what to do. We really wanted to see the film. We had been looking forward to it, ever since it came out. We had made a commitment to each other to see it together.
Yet now, faced with all these conditions… faced with the way we were being treated… faced with all the difficulty our presence was creating… we just felt a mixture of angry, deflated, and sad. All the joy and excitement had gone.
Should we stay and take what we’ve been offered, even though it’s not what we want? Should we walk away? Find another cinema? Surely they can’t all be like this? Perhaps we should just wait for the DVD? But that wouldn’t be the same either...
The cinema usher asked us again, “So… do you want me to sneak you in?”
Tell us, Church of England, what should we do?