Fast foward to 1970. I'm in college. I love college, it's a blast. I went from a graduating class of 12 in town of 380 people and a pretty large rural population to a college in the 2nd largest city in Wyoming. Population about 40,000. It's HUGE to me. New York City Huge. I live in the dorms, yippee it's like having 200 sisters I never had.
One of my best friends comes from Bountiful, Utah and we decide we HAVE to go see LOVE STORY with Ryan O'Neal and Ali McGraw. It's being RELEASED at the new multi-plex in Salt Lake City. Yes, yes, yes, we are going.
So my roommate and I (rm 310 McIntyre Hall) and the other two girls in rm 301, one of whom is the Bountiful gal, hitch a ride to Bountiful for the weekend. Our ride is Floyd from Morad Hall. A really nice guy who put up with us four girls and had a heart of gold. But a nerd, probably a very wealthy engineer nerd by now. We flirted with him for over 300 miles, begged him for pit stops, and he graciously indulged us.
Night of the movie, Rm 301's dad loans her the car and we are OFF to the Multi-Plex and the Premiere of LOVE STORY. Love story is soooooo 1970's. Set in Boston, boy meets girl in college, sappy romance, they get married, she gets cancer, she dies, he grieves, touching ending. It was a huge hit with the 1970 college crowd and starred Ryan O'Neal and Ali McGraw.
Except.......................I'm a country girl. Remember this point. I'm not going to view this like all the star-struck teens in the audience (which was pretty packed and had quite a few adults also). All four of college girls sit together UNTIL....................
We get to the death scene. At which point I realize there is an audible sobbing wafting through the theater. It is rising in crescendo. I lean over to my roommate and whispered...hey listen to the audience.
And at that exact point, the 30 something housewife behind us, blew her nose with a VERY audible, VERY Loud HONK!
We both LOST IT. Not a quiet subdued giggle but a loud raucous guffaw. And the more we laughed the more we couldn't stop. Everyone in the theater turned and looked at us. The Room 301 girls got up and MOVED. They were so embarrassed they would not sit with us.
We laughed some more. Tears were running down our cheeks. And Finally, we were able to compose ourselves. At that very moment, 30-something housewife, bless her, blows her nose AGAIN. And it sets both of us off again. By the time we finally are able to contain ourselves permanently, Poor Ol' Dead Jenny is in the ground.
So now we go through the final moments of Ryan O'Neal displaying his profound grief, touching tribute to Dead Jenny and I really don't remember what else (I've never watched it since).
Roommate and I stand up. Room 301 girls rush out to the car; not wanting to walk with us. 30-Something Housewife gives us a disdainful look as the house lights come on, turns to her companion and states, "There I was, crying my eyes out and THOSE TWO were laughing!" Omigosh, we lost it again.
We laughed all the way back to the car in the HUMONGOUS Parking Lot. At which point we were informed neither of us were welcome to go to the movies with THEM again.
Not to worry - it only lasted a week. My roommate and I were the only ones with a available car at college. It was her brother's, who was also a student.....Being indispensable does have it advantages.