I remembered a couple more tidbits.

When I was much younger, I learned through trial and error that certain movies were not what you would call "date flicks".

In the Spring of 1973 I took my date to a film I thought would be a little different than the usual run-of-the-mill Friday night crapola. I wanted to show her I had intelligence, class, all that crap. So, what film did we see? Ingmar Bergman's Cries and Whispers. Big mistake. Zila (my date) spent nearly the entire film with her head buried in my shoulder, shuddering. Revolting film, IMHO. If you've ever had the misfortune to see it, then you know what the words "broken glass" refer to. Yeegh.

In mid-1976 I made another incredible error in judgement. I took Barbara, my girlfriend at the time, to the Oceana theatre in Brighton Beach, Brooklyn to see The Sailor Who Fell From Grace With the Sea because she liked Kris Kristofferson. Really big mistake. She also loved animals, particularly cats. Well, during a certain part of that film (I won't go into details) she bolted from her seat and ran hysterically crying into the lobby. Took me around fifteen minutes to calm her down.

I learned (the hard way) that Barbara was not someone you could take to just any movie - you had to be really careful. So a week or two later we went back to the Oceana to see The Groove Tube. A much safer film - or so I thought. When the huge close-up of the talking penis (real) appeared onscreen, Barbara shrieked and laughed and yelled out "I want to lick it!" in the crowded theatre. Mortified, I bolted from my seat and ran into the lobby. Sometimes, as the saying goes, you can dress 'em up but ya just can't take 'em out.

Live and learn.

Signor V.