Date: Wed, 5 Jan 2005 16:34:49 -0800 (PST) From: GH JUNKKIE Subject: "The Rialto" PT 1 "The Rialto, Your Friendly, Family Neighborhood...XXX" By Mr. gloryholeJUNKIE gh_professional@yahoo.com As a little kid, I grew up going to the local cinema. And most of the movies I went to see, I saw either alone or with my best friend from school. Yeah, there were color televisions, refrigerators with automatic icemakers, moon landings and other "modern age" attractions when I was little. But kids taking in a movie each and every day by themselves during summer vacation and after classes during the school year helped to make the local movie theater into what was essentially the neighborhood daycare center. Especially for we city latch key kids, mostly under the age of twelve all, the local cinema became something of a second home. Going to the movie theater was cheap, safe, close to home and air-conditioned. And by the time that the last matinee show let out the time, or especially after a full afternoon double feature, most of our moms and dads would be home from work. For way before "KiddieKare" centers became a regular part of the working mom/daycare landscape, there was the local movie theater. Ours was called "The Rialto". It must have been built in the late nineteen-twenties. Its fantastical Venetian motif made it the coolest place in the whole neighborhood - especially to us kids. Being forty or fifty years old, the theater was already sort of ratty around the edges by the time I was going there as a little kid. But it was still exciting to sit in the uppermost balcony section where no one could see you. And yet, from up there, one had the best view of the entire place. From way up there, one could really experience the recessed, ornate loges, marvel at the elaborate but dusty chandeliers and ogle the vast expanse of magical, painted ceilings. When I'd go to a movie with my parents at The Rialto, we almost always wound up sitting on the main level and always sort of in the middle. Parents and older people hardly ever ventured up into the balconies. And many times, if entire families went out to see a movie together, the sets of parents would let their kids all sit together upstairs, leaving the adults to have a more peaceful movie experience in their main level seats. Although I liked going to a movie with my parents, I found it far more exciting to go there alone. Alone, I could wander all over the place and change seats at will. I could even go into the huge bathroom off the lobby for as long as I wanted without my mom or dad coming to get me. Not that anything was ever happening in the bathroom. I mean, once or twice I'd flush all the toilets at one time to hear the thunderous whooshing noise. After all, The Rialto was a family cinema and nothing else ever happened in the bathroom there. Instead, being alone in the bathroom was simply the thrill in the idea I could go in and run water for as long as I wished. I was always known to be an adventuresome kid. My mom said I was too adventuresome for my own good sometimes. I never quite knew what she meant by that. Well, to be truthful, sometimes in that big bathroom, without even trying very hard, I was able to spy an older man's penis as it hung out at the urinals. I could see them in a line if I looked just the right way into the huge mirrors over the sinks. The first time I saw one, I was shocked and raced back to my seat in the balcony. I wasn't even trying to see one. But then, the next time, I knew exactly where to stand to get the best view a grown up's penis through the mirrors. The men whose penises I spied weren't even doing anything. They were just dads or granddads taking a fast piss during the movie. They'd then zip and return to their families in their seats - never even knowing that a little boy had been looking at their penis the whole time. And whenever I'd see one, maybe once a day, it was super exciting when it would happen. Because even by the age of seven, (and even though no one knew it), I loved grown ups' penises. And that was sort of funny because all I really knew of them was what I'd spied through the mirrors in The Rialto's huge bathroom. And it was almost as much fun to go to The Rialto sometimes, even though it wasn't too often, with my best friend, Brian. From the time we were in first grade, we'd go take in a movie by ourselves after school whenever the snow was falling or on a summer vacation afternoon during a heatwave. We went there together one time and saw "Chitty Chitty Bang Bang" (even though I'd seen it twice that week already). And as the second grade came to an end that same year, we went together to see "Dr. Doolittle" (which I'd already seen three times). The theater was only four blocks from my house and seven blocks from his, so it was just the place to go. We'd even sometimes play the spy game I made up in the big, lobby bathroom. We'd take turns having to go in, sneak a peek at a man's penis and then tell the other what it looked like or how big it was. But usually I went to the cinema alone. I was at The Rialto alone so often that Mrs. Lipinski, who worked the ticket window, would usually let me in for free if she knew I'd already seen the movie playing. And this college-aged guy, Andrew, who worked behind the Concessions counter, would give me a free box of Junior Mints sometimes. He didn't do it all the time, but he seemed to do it whenever he thought he could get away with it, I suppose. And Mr. Gregory, the theater maintenance man knew me, too. One time, when I was with Brian, we saw him in the alley behind the theater and he let us both sneak in through a side door back there. It was super cool because we had to climb the high metal fire escape to get to the door that Mr. Gregory showed us he sometimes kept propped open when he was sweeping. And from up there, that door opened directly into a super dark, curtained area right off the uppermost balcony! So as I said, I was a movie buff even as a little kid. My parents always gave me money. But when I could, I'd also sneak into the movies. It was pretty easy to do and I mostly just did that for the thrill of doing it. And, as I said, if I was lucky, Mrs. Lipinski or Mr. Gregory would just let in, without even sneaking. But most times, I paid at the window and even had to buy my own candy at the Concessions counter. Even though I could go home any time I wanted right after school, having my own key and all, I would opt to do that only if I had a lot of homework. After all, it was more fun to be out and about. Why sit in an empty apartment watching reruns on t.v. when I could spend the afternoon watching Kurt Russell in a Disney movie or sneakily exploring a vast, old movie palace...and sometimes catching sight a grown up man's penis! But then something changed at The Rialto and it changed radically. But because I'd been away with my parents for nearly a month during the school vacation between the second and third grades, I didn't even know it had happened. We spent three weeks in August at a cottage on a lake. It was a great summer vacation. I even celebrated my eighth birthday there by catching a humungous fish. And I think we only went to see one movie the entire time we were at the lake. We saw it at an old-fashioned family drive-in but all I remember of it was that we all got bitten by mosquitoes even bigger than the fish I had caught. That Labor Day weekend, back in the city, I started school the day right after we returned from vacation. And my dad also had to return to his job that same Monday, too. Only my mom had two extra days off. The first day of school was fun. All my friends were there and we were third graders. The first and second graders looked so little to us. But immediately I knew that school would be more difficult in the third grade because we actually had to do Math the first day back. We never before had to do so much actual schoolwork on the first day back from summer vacation! After school, I raced home, knowing my mom would be there. I wanted to spend as much time with her before she had to go back to work that Wednesday. I was in such a hurry to get home, I didn't even take my usual route that normally took me past The Rialto. So I didn't notice anything out of the ordinary until the following day. After school on Tuesday, I wanted to get right home since my mom and I were going to make some cookies for the rest of the week. But this time, I went home using my usual route. I wanted to see what was playing at The Rialto since I figured that would be where I'd spend the next afternoon after school until my parents got home. But as I turned onto 67th Street, a rather busy street, I immediately spotted something different looking about The Rialto's marquee. It was no longer white with midnight blue and gold trim. It now looked as if someone had painted it all a medium flat gray. What I did see, on the marquee, were the words, "Candy Does Brooklyn", a title which didn't even make any sense to me. And as I got nearer, I saw that the box office kiosk window was boarded over and painted black. Upon closer inspection, nearer the front doors, the decorative images of towers and canals were gone. Instead, there were numerous silhouetted drawings of women with their legs spread and with three gigantic printed across them - three giant yellow "X"s. I thought it looked sort of like The Rialto was closed or, worse, was going to be torn down. Maybe the triple yellow Xs meant the place was to be demolished and the workmen just drew pictures of naked ladies for fun. My heart sank. Where would I go every afternoon if The Rialto were no longer here? But then I saw a man in a trench coat, suit and tie step up to a new and nearly hidden ticket window that had been cut into the entry wall along side the main doors. I hadn't even noticed it until the man asked, "Candy takes 'em all, I hope?", as he slipped some money to someone through the little ticket slot. Then, another man's voice, coming from the ticket slot, replied, "Twenty minutes in and the bitch's already done fifty-nine guys...and tomorrow starts 'Tammy, The Subway Slut'....120 minutes and just about as many fuck her in that one." I couldn't see who the ticket person was but it sure wasn't Mrs. Lipinski talking. I walked past the theater and went home, all confused. Even though I was only eight, I knew those men had been talking about something very exciting to them. And being a curious boy, I understood, even if vaguely, that it was about something extremely sexual. TO BE CONTINUED gh_professional@yahoo.com COPYRIGHTED TO THE AUTHOR. COMPLY WITH ALL LAWS IN YOUR AREA.