Fast Times at Parkdale High

Given the weather forecast, it wasn't a very good night to try to see an outdoor movie. But in my never-ending quest to improve my cultural literacy, I nonetheless walked over to the courtyard at Quirk Gallery in hopes of seeing Fast Times at Ridgemont High for the very first time.

Before you raise an eyebrow about how anyone on the planet could not have seen this 1982 film by now, remember that I have also never seen Raiders of the Lost Ark, so there is a precedent here. It's just that I take so much crap from friends about my movie-going omissions, that when a unique opportunity to finally see something I supposedly "should" have seen presents itself, I do my best to play catch-up.

And, lo and behold, there were two other girls at the courtyard who'd never seen it either, making me feel much better about my movie knowledge, or lack thereof. Tonight was the first in Quirk's summer movie series (next up: Breaking Away) and needless to say, I'm thrilled with any new event in my neighborhood. Wine, beer and popcorn are available for sale which was a nice touch. Personally, I brought a clementine but that's just me.

The crowd wasn't large, but I ran into several people I knew, including my farmer friend, who, after kissing my cheek said, "Of course you'd be here." Later during the movie, he sneaked over and whispered in my ear, asking if the movie was bringing back memories for me.

"I can see it all now, this is gonna be just like last summer. You fell in love with that girl at the Fotomat, you bough $40 worth of fuckin' film and you never even talked to her. You don't even own a camera."

My first job as a 16-year old was as a "Fotomate" at a Fotomat in suburban Maryland, and I clearly remember how bold guys were with a girl alone in a booth in the middle of a parking lot. Grinning, I told my friend this story which caused him to laugh out loud. Yes, the movie was bringing back memories.

Unfortunately, we weren't even an hour in when it started to sprinkle, but the DVD player was covered and we soldiered on with what umbrellas we had until the sky opened up and began to dump buckets. I grabbed my chair and walked the three blocks home, getting more drenched every step of the way. It wasn't so bad walking west, but when I turned north, the wind was pushing the rain horizontally at me.

By the time I got home, my sunflower sundress was literally dripping wet, but the walk itself had been kind of nice. I never mind walking in the rain when the temperature is warm enough; it's only cold and wet I can't tolerate. There's something about the smell of summer rain when you're in it that I love.

But now I'll never know what happened to the kids at Ridgemont High. Come to think of it, I'm going to presume that it was a lot like what happened to the kids at Parkdale High, which is where I went. There were plenty of people smoking pot, everyone was having sex and guys lusted after girls in Fotomats...all set to a soundtrack with the likes of the Go-Gos and Quarterflash.

Ah, it's all becoming clear now. Perhaps that's the reason I never felt compelled to see Fast Times. I may have already been familiar with the story.