>I called in sick from work this morning, and spent the whole day searching the city for the Kinoman.
>I chase down every homeless man I see to give them a dollar, but when I ask "Can you show me the way to The Patrician's Club?" they tell me nothing
>I guess a dollar isn't enough, this time. After lunch, I hit the ATM
>I'm handing out five-dollar bills to the bums now, tens, twenties. Nothing.
>Maybe the Kinoman doesn't look like a homeless guy today. I need to be more creative.
>I can't miss a chance to perform a random act of kindness for a stranger. The Kinoman could be hiding in any one of them
>I'm darting ahead of women to hold doors open for them. I warn a businessman he's about to step in dog shit. A woman's grocery bag tears open and spills all over the sidewalk, and I help her pick up all the food.
>All afternoon long I'm a good Samaritan, but NOT ONE of them offers to take me to a secret place where the white wine flows and the rarest kinos play out on the silver screen
>I'm helping the old lady carry her bags up the stairs and when she thanks me and unlocks her door I'm on the verge of tears. It's been a long day and I just can't take it anymore
>"What do I have to do?" I'm sobbing "Please just tell me what I have to do! I promised I'd be back for the Griffith screening, it can't just be a one-time thing! Why would you show me such a wonderful place if I can never go back there?!? Why are you doing this??"
>She's screeching and threatening to call the cops as she locks the door behind her, and I lay my head against her door and just let it all out, sobbing uncontrollably like I haven't done since I was a child
>I stop off at the theater on my way home and see "Phantom Thread" alone and it's shit, it's just shit, this theater is shit, their concession stands are shit, it's all wrong now, I've had a glimpse of The Patrician's Club and I'll never be able to enjoy this again
HOW DO I GET BACK THERE BROS? I know that one of you must know the way