Not this year.  Sure, I went the past two years in a row and wanted to start making it a tradition.   Year one was amazing.  Coldplay and fireworks. Love in the air.  A panic attack in the line back to the subway to get off the island.

Year two, I suffered heart wrenching breakdown (but Arcade Fire and Weezer kicked fucking ass.)

This year, I’m sweating behind two counters and a projector.

Next year, I promise myself I will celebrate summer.  For this year,  I am a cinema-masochist and all that matters is whether or not you want Becel margarine on your popcorn.  Yes, that’s all we have.  Becel.  No, it’s not butter.  It’s Becel.  What do you mean you don’t know what margarine is?  Don’t tell your kid it’s butter.  You’re lying to him.  Kid, it’s margarine.  It’s like butter, only not real.  And we can keep it longer without worrying about it going bad because it’s filled with disgusting chemicals.  Yeah.  You did see the commercial for it by the Heart & Stroke Foundation in which they claim it’s good for your heart.  But you know what’s better for your heart?  Not eating Becel.  I’ll tell you that much.  Now hurry up and take your popcorn so I can run up to the booth and start the damn movie.  Yes.  I do that too.