From that point onwards, I had sworn against further visits to the cinema. My ever-hectic, evolving schedule played another part in extinguishing any eagerness. Why be limited to showtimes that prohibit pausing and washroom breaks when one can watching the comfort of one's home, ideally while foam-rolling?!
Despite the rise in popularity of Netflix, Disney+, Amazon Prime Video, and more, not all shows are released onto a digital platform. Months would pass before movies would eventually make their way to each production studio's exclusive streaming service. For foolproof evasion of spoilers, in-person viewing was mandatory.
Alas, booking in advance was highly recommended, for Saturday showings of new movies sold out quickly, especially on opening weekend.
It wasn't that I had loved figures throughout my childhood - quite the opposite really, for board games and hard, plastic contraptions had always taken a backseat to soft, huggable plushies. But the trailer had appealed to me in its juxtaposition of the vibrant, flashy "doll world" and bleak, desaturated setting of Santa Monica. Cinematography was another interesting element, for placing humans in a dollhouse environment while evoking a sense of relatability is no easy feat.
Seats were allocated extremely spaciously. I had braced myself for popcorn-filled grunts for when we were to inch towards our seats, but experienced no such issues. Even in the full-reclined position, there was ample space to navigate between the rows. Sinking into our spots, we too soon rejoiced in the cushiony comfort of patent leather (?), a swivel side table (complete with drink holder!), and unthinkably roomy lounge chairs
As one would predict, the setting would embrace a colourful palette centred about shimmery sequins and solid splashes of rose, magenta, and fuschia - a scene that would appeal to as many children as lovers of pink. However, the content largely catered towards viewers with voting power, starting off with rather typical messages of empowering women and creating equality, then gradually unveiling other popular topics of debate in modern society. It was painfully apparent to have "ethnic diversity" shoved in my face by way of Simu Liu's annoying, unattractive presence. (His acting is well below subpar and neither his styling nor attitutde ever changes, but that's another rant.) I had no qualms towards the remainder of the cast, for they delivered in their roles, regardless of size or racial background.
I plopped into the booth nearly immediately, then jumped up at the sighting of greasy seats and stray grains of fried rice. The host was notified of my discontent towards the lack of cleanliness, which extended beyond flying grains of rice to sauce splatters near the headrest area - how they got there we shall never comprehend. He responded to the concern by reappearing with a bucket, washcloth, and spray bottle, then scrubbed away at the areas of disgust, adding "Not sure who cleaned the table."
At this point, it was affirmed that Hitachino Nest brews were wholly unavailable and Kocha Umeshu would only be retailed by the bottle. When asked about cocktails, he admitted that they were "all pretty sweet", even the ones that utilized sake as a base. Whether the comment has originated from personal preference or data acquired from other patrons, I was appreciative of his honesty. (It was almost as if he knew of my aversion towards sugary drinks.) Ultimately, he recommended Sapporo or Asahi, both on tap and featured prominently on the front of the drink menu. In spite of having average experiences with the canned variation, I accepted the suggestion of Asahi. Peach Up, a virgin alcohol comprising of peach syrup and Sprite, was also requested.
Slightly peppery was the Ribeye, while thick and chewy was the New York Steak. Being thicker, wider cuts of meat, we were advised to grill each side between 60-90 seconds to ensure doneness.
"Would you be able to give me green tea with a lot of ice in it?" I asked.
"I can try." He responded.
Minutes later, I was graced with the welcome sight of room temperature green tea in a plastic cup.
"The ice melted." Our server began.
Frankly, he needed not to apologize, for I merely sought a cooling fluid that could consumed quickly without fear of scalding myself. The cup's contents served the intended purpose sufficiently.
Similar to before, diners could obtain up to four hours (a significant upgrade from the two-hour period previously!) of complimentary parking by requesting a validation ticket at the reception desk before departure.
While the weekend was indeed upon us, the mall was far busier than we had fathomed. Barely two steps could be taken without being ruthless bulldozed by other mall visitors. People were zipped left and right at every possible angle, filling every possible inch of space with their lethargic, heat-generating presence.
The checkout line spanned roughly ten minutes. It was only until after payment that the cashier returned a receipt bearing red text on it: "Final Sale". This status had not been advertised whatsoever within the store, nor informed verbally at the time of purchase - a poor practice lacking transparency if I do declare.
Beside Simons, I caught sight of "Baking Soon" signage: Saint Germain was coming to town!