A Whopper of a Tale, But True

Long ago, before I ceased eating at fast food restaurants, a Burger King Whopper with fries and a Coke was my favorite fast-food meal.  Thinking about those delicious, large flame-broiled burgers  that I always ordered with everything on them including extra mayo, brings back very distinct and pleasant associations from high school and college.  I’ll tell you why.

When I was in 11th grade, I was standing at the school bus stop one September morning when the doctor across the street from my house stopped his car and asked if I wanted to work as an usher in a new jumbo theater he and a few partners were opening, probably some kind of tax shelter or other gimmick. It would pay the minimum wage of $1.25 an hour, plus all the popcorn I could eat.

I told the good doctor, sure, I would do it. I was mowing lawns  and could use a little extra spending money. After all, I had been saving up for college for years when I had that small lawn-mowing business, and a little discretionary income wouldn’t hurt.

I learned something right away about entrepreneurs who owned businesses such as movie theaters:  they will invariably pay not one nickel over the minimum wage if they can get away with it. Of course, when you’re 17, it’s flattering to be offered a job, any job, especially if it’s by the doctor neighbor. Not that I knew him that well.

So a couple of weeks later I was installed at the entrance to the theater, in my spiffy, gold blazer and bowtie, tearing ticket stubs, making popcorn, and patrolling the aisles, looking for unruly miscreants and other juvenile delinquents.

I think I must’ve eaten a lot of popcorn in the ensuing few months I was employed at that cavernous new theater.   I recall spending half my time popping it, as we sold tons of it at intermission.  The movies were longer then and featured many musicals, and theater patrons needed to stretch, go to the restroom and get more popcorn and soda, “Raisinets” and other candy.

When I was done with all that, I could be found sitting in the very back row, watching whatever movie was playing. This was in the days before the mega-super plexes  of eight or more  little theater boxes, bunched together in or near malls, and which today in the age of streaming are fast disappearing.

In those days theaters were very big and had big screens. I think I probably watched “The Dirty Dozen”  with Lee Marvin about 15 times; the chirpy and good-time musical set in the Twenties, “Thoroughly Modern  Millie” with Julie Andrews, Mary Tyler Moore and Carol Channing.   What a stellar cast! I must have seen that one  about 20 times.  It was hugely popular and filled every seat on weekend nights.  I also munched my way through and watched another musical, “The Happiest Millionaire” with Fred McMurray (yes, that Fred McMurray) and Greer Garson, about 15 times.  It was probably more than that.  I learned the lyrics to many of the songs.  These were enormous hits that year and played for many weeks. There were other movies, but I really can’t remember all of them. I memorized a lot of the dialogue in those movies, as well as the song lyrics.   I would move my lips saying the lines or lyrics.  I was pretty bored. Oh, I forgot to mention that there was one really good movie I didn’t mind watching over and over  in the back of the theater.  It was “Cool Hand Luke” with Paul Newman. I thought he was the coolest character I’d ever seen in a movie. It had a great story and great acting.  Also, many memorable lines such as the head guard of the chain gang yelling to some prisoners, including Luke, “What we have here is a failure to communicate.”  Never forgot that line.

Also, working there were a bunch of the most popular jocks and student council types at my high school, including Scott, briefly a friend and neighbor who lived in back of me in our suburban neighborhood.  I had known Scott, who the next year was elected president of the student body and most popular in the senior class, when we were in ninth grade, and by the time we were ushering together, he had pretty much left me behind in the dust, as far as social status at that school was concerned.  Perhaps we still talked a little bit, but not much. He didn’t have time for me anymore, but he wasn’t snobby or ill-mannered about it. Also, there was another popular athlete who I was asked to tutor in algebra. They all hung around together. I was more or less the outsider. The doctor’s son also was an usher, and he lived, as I said, directly across the street and was one year older than me, but we never had anything to do with each other.  My recollection of him was that he was rather obnoxious, or at least put on a lot of airs.

What does this have to do with Whoppers, you may ask.  Well, not a whole lot really, but just this. We would have a 10 or 15 minute break during our matinee shifts on weekends, and I recall to this day how very hungry I’d be at that point in my shift.  One of the glories of youth is having an almost unlimited appetite and feeling hunger so intensely they  almost any kind of fast food seemed like an epicurean delight. So, I’d walk over to the adjacent Burger King when that hamburger chain was still a novelty in New Orleans, and get a juicy, heavy Whopper  with everything on it and mayonnaise oozing out the sides.   I would take it back to the upper mezzanine of the theater, find a spot to sit down and eat it with devour it with relish.  Also, remember the job was pretty boring, my popular classmates didn’t have too much to do with me, and so this Whopper break  was really the highlight of my shift. I really looked  forward to that break, counting off the hours

And you know there’s always some song on the radio that was Number 1 on the charts, and which you associate with certain places, jobs and people.  During  the time I worked in that theater, Otis Redding’s immortal song “Sittin’ by the Dock of the Bay” was getting constant airplay. I can hear that song clearly in my mind to this day. I never got tired of listening to it, and today it’s one of those oldies. I don’t mind hearing again and again.

I left that place after about six months, having learned a little bit about the movie theater business. My last paycheck was for a whopping $14.

I don’t know why I did it, really, except that it seemed like something different to do.  I made just a little bit of money. It was an insignificant amount. Why do we do so many things we do as teenagers anyway?

Two years later I was a student at the University of New Orleans, living in a high-rise dormitory. Supper was long forgotten about 10 pm when I returned from studying at the library, again very hungry, and ready to eat. So I’d get out my rundown bike and head to the Burger King  about three blocks from the dorm, and always return with a Whopper and fries. Oh how good that tasted after cafeteria food. Remember, I was young. I was in college. I could eat almost anything without worrying about the consequences.  Weight concerns?  No way, not when you’re six feet two and weigh 150 pounds. Those were the days.

https://youtu.be/NPR73xHV3hE?si=E2Omi5QQu5d3mKbM

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