.....When I was young the Ritz theater was old and only showed movies after the other theaters had worn them out. The Ritz in Los Angeles was a classy theater in its day but that day had long passed. The good thing about the Ritz was, it was cheap. For a few months I was the assistant manager of the Ritz theater. I thought it sounded pretty impressive when I told girls that I was the assistant manager of the Ritz. The truth was that there was only three of us to do everything. The manager smoked big smelly cigars and sold tickets. The rest of the time he spent in his office shuffling through important looking papers (Racing forms). The candy girl sold the popcorn and candy and helped clean up after the theater closed. The assistant manager tore tickets, set the marquee, cleaned the bathrooms, picked up and returned the film, and helped clean the theater after it closed. The greatest part of the job was that the manager let me use his car to pickup the film. The manager's car was a black La Salle, a block long and had more chrome than an operating room. The two spare tires were mounted in the front fenders. I am not sure which made the most smoke, the managers car or his cigars, but when I drove this magnificent machine down the street, I was surely someone important.
.....One night after the box office had closed, someone was knocking on the glass doors. I looked outside and saw two eyes looking out of a pile of muscles.. This guy looked like Charles Atlas and harder than nine times eight. Hesitantly I opened the door and, in a mild voice, he asked it he could come in to watch the last half of the movie and that he would be glad to pay. I said "sure, come on in, no charge." After all, I was the assistant manager. His name was Jack and he passed the theater every night on his way home from work. Every time the movie changed he would show up late and I would let him in.
.....One memorable night the Box office was closed and the movie was going to change the next day so I had to change the marquee. To do this I used the tallest step ladder I have ever seen before or since. If it had been one step taller I would have needed oxygen. I was little more than nervous using this ladder. At this time in the history of Los Angeles there was only one gang of any prominence, it was the Pachuco's. The Pachuco's did not write on the walls like today's gangs but they did some terrible things. Four Pachuco's showed up that night and decided it would be a lot of fun to try and shake me off the ladder. I could not hold on to the ladder and the red plastic letters at the same time, so the letter's fell. The point of letter A hit one of the gang members on the top of the head and he was bleeding. The gang, after yelling a bunch of profanity at me, decided to quit wasting time and just push the ladder over. Just as the ladder was about to fall Jack appeared. with one hand he grabbed the ladder and with the other he yanked one of the gang members right of his feet. As I came down the ladder I watched Jack throw these guys around like they where rag dolls. When I got to the bottom of the ladder Jack walked up to me as if nothing had happened and said in his mild voice "can I come in and see the rest of the movie?"
.....Before the event of television the movie theaters were a special treat. Once a week you could escape from reality for few hours in a movie theater. Now that we can see movies every night on television, the old movie theater has lost most of its magic but to this day, when I think of the Ritz, I can smell the popcorn, the strange plastic of the marquee letters, the old carpet, and the burnt oil from that wonderful car.
.....By the way, did I mention that I was once the assistant manager of the Ritz theater?
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