Using My Major/It Could Have Been so Much Worse

When I graduated from PSU with my little emphasis area in public relations, I was realistic.
I live in Nevada. I will continue to live in Nevada for at least five more years.
I ain't using my degree.
So, imagine my shock and delight when I got to practice crisis communication in a real, live setting with real, live people!
The Place: Century Six Cinema
The Time: 12:15 a.m.
The Reason: Batman: The Dark Knight Rises midnight showing.
Let me preface the story by saying that this was a big showing. The Spiderman midnight show two weeks ago, in comparison, sold roughly 40-some tickets.
Batman sold 140.
Of these 140 movie-goers, it looked like half wore some sort of Batman memorabilia, whether it was a shirt, a hat, swim goggles, underwear over the pants, tights, or a full cape.
It made what happened a little tougher.
Let me digress again by explaining that movies are not like what they used to be. In my previous days working in the old Fox Theatre, way back in the 80's, film was actual film. It was on a giant reel. It had to be threaded.
It was really cool. I never learned how to do it.
Fast-forward twenty-some years, and not much has changed. I still don't know how to do it.
But it's different. Movies now look like some kind of prehistoric eight-track, and require a key to be activated before they will play.
Cue the problem. The key did not work.
The movie did not start.
As our manager stayed on the phone with the film company, I felt that the crowd needed to be placated, or at least notified about the problem and updated accordingly.
My first trip in wasn't bad.
I called their attention to the front. I told them that there was a delay, that the film could not be activated, that the manager was on the phone with the company, that hopefully it would be resolved soon, and that I would keep them posted on the progress of said delay.
Stunned silence.
Then a scattering of language, almost all of which was the same question.
"Are you serious?"
I assured them that this was not a joke. I told them we were sorry. I told them we were trying to reach a resolution.
I got booed. Just a little, mind you. Nothing disheartening.
I really liked this crowd.
Twenty minutes later, still no movie. I went back in.
This time, they clapped when they saw me.
I offered free passes. I gave them the option to stay or go.
A couple of people requested that I dance. For their sake, I chose not to.
The third trip in, I was out of graceful delivery.
"OK," I said, "I can only juggle with two balls. I can't dance. I am truly sorry for this inconvenience, but we will have to give you all passes to come back. I don't know how much longer this will take."
While quite a few took me up on that, the majority opted to stay.
At 1:20 a.m., when both the film company and the IT people gave up on the show and declared the official time of death, I gave out passes to the remainder of the faithful crowd.
And you know what? People are amazing. This crowd was the epitome of what I love about my job: the people. They were understanding. They didn't spit on me or the staff, nor did they try to hit us.
There were a couple who were noticeably bummed, but none blamed us for the situation.
That is just awesome.
This morning, when I woke up for my other job, I saw the news from Colorado.
Another theater, coincidentally also a "Century" - the Century 16. Another non-show.
This one, however, went badly.
My heart goes out to those killed at the midnight Batman showing in Aurora. I can't imagine what would possess someone to kill so many, some of them children, at a place and time that was supposed to be good old-fashioned entertainment.
God bless those people and their families, and thank you to those of you last night who proved that people can really be pretty damn cool.
By the way, the movie works now.