This weekend, My Guy and I went to the drive-in. It was just like in “Grease,” except I didn’t see anybody climb out of a trunk once their car was inside.
We are so lucky that we live near a completely kick-ass drive-in theatre. The pre-show entertainment is a live stream of little kids dancing in front of the concession stand. Families are everywhere, the playground in front of the screen is always busy, and the old-school ads for sno cones and hot dogs make me smile.
Keep in mind, though, that I’ve never actually visited the concession stand. I’m a firm believer in BYOB movie going. Or, as was the case Saturday night, BYOB, BYOF, and BYOC.
That would be bring your own beverage, food, and cake.
My Guy and I shelled out $20 for a triple feature, and parked towards the back – not by choice, but because 20 minutes before showtime, the rest of the lot was full. We did not, however, make out. (Not for lack of trying, though – my husband kept saying something about public displays of affection being inappropriate around so many kids. Whatever.)
We had brought a sack of hamburgers and a couple of beers. Yes, the beer was against the rules, but long as we weren’t blatant about it, we figured it was fine. Rebels!
We ate burgers. We drank beer. We watched “Grown Ups 2,” which was entertaining but has pretty much zero plot.
The second movie was “We’re the Millers,” which was funny but also not earth-shattering. One of the problems with movie going in your vehicle is that you’re pretty dependent upon the weather. By the middle of “We’re the Millers,” the breeze that was pleasant during the first feature was completely gone, and we started to stick to the leather seats in My Guy’s truckasaurus. It was hot.
To ease our discomfort, we ate cake.
I had made a cake a few days earlier. The leftover cake was still in the metal cake pan … which I just threw in the truckasaurus along with the beer. No plates, no spatula – just cake in a cake pan, and a community fork.
We sweated, watched a movie, and devoured cake right out of the pan, all from the humid, somewhat sticky comfort of the truckasaurus.
It felt a teensy bit trashy, but mostly awesome. I felt like such a rebel. A fat rebel with high cholesterol.
We didn’t stay for the third feature, which was “Children of the Corn Part 27,” or some such thing. But still, we didn’t get home until almost 1 a.m. It was craziness!
And then, just to solidify my standing as a rebel, I went to bed without flossing.
I know. I know!
What bit of culinary rebellion would you love to sneak into the movie?