Before heading out for our night of movie entertainment; we were put into our pajama’s, our parents knowing we would never make it through the second movie. We tried, oh trust me, we tried.
My Dad would always try to get us there early, like many others, he wanted a prime spot. This would mean waiting extra time for dusk and time to play in the rusting structures of the play area. How we didn’t end up with lead poison or lockjaw still confounds me. Running wild with hoards of other children, our parents hoped we’d exhaust ourselves so they’d be allowed enough peace and quiet to hear the voices through the vintage speaker mounted on the driver’s side window.
One memory that has always stuck with me is that of being scared shitless to go to the bathroom that was attached to the concession stand. It was mere feet away. One of the movies from a double feature that particular evening was The Car. In this movie, the car was possessed and was running people down and starred the very handsome James Brolin. I was so scared of this evil vehicle that I was convinced that it was in the drive-in. I remember begging my mother to take me to the washroom. She was frustrated by this since I’ve never been scared to go on my own before that night. Oh, the 1970s. A time when you’d let your young child wander off to a public washroom all on their own.