So I Got Escorted Out of a Movie Theater This Weekend

So I Got Escorted Out of a Movie Theater This Weekend.

As a movie theater owner, this is probably not a sentence I should be leading with.

But here we are.

This weekend I made the trip down to Auburn to visit family. I don’t make the trip very often, but my niece had a birthday, my parents were due for a visit, and it seemed like a good excuse to spend some time with my brother.

I got up early for the drive, so by the time I arrived I was already running on fumes.

My brother wanted to do an escape room or some other activity.

I wanted to sit in a dark room where nobody expected me to solve anything.

So naturally, we decided to go to a movie.

Lately I’ve actually enjoyed visiting other theaters. I’ve been to Cinema V in Edmundston, checked out the Big Bang Theater in Caribou, and even visited a few theaters while I was in Boston. Every theater has its own personality, and I genuinely enjoy seeing how other cinemas operate.

This time we decided to head to Flagship Cinemas in Auburn to see Obsession.

The first sign that things were about to go sideways was when we arrived thirty minutes early.

Or so we thought.

We found our seats, reclined them, kicked our feet up, and spent a little time catching up. A few minutes later an employee came in to clean the theater and jokingly asked if we were excited for the movie.

That’s when we discovered we weren’t thirty minutes early.

We were an hour and a half early.

Apparently I had looked at the wrong showtime.

Not an ideal start.

We laughed about it, wandered around, bought snacks, briefly considered switching movies, and eventually returned to wait for the correct showtime.

The theater filled up.

The previews rolled.

The movie started.

Everything seemed normal.

Then a gentleman entered the theater and immediately began disputing some teenagers’ choice of seating. After a brief investigation, he discovered the seats he was looking for were actually occupied by my brother and me.

Rather than continue his crusade against local youth, he wisely sought assistance.

An employee came over and asked to see our tickets.

I handed them over.

She looked at them.

Looked at us.

Looked at them again.

Then informed us that our tickets were for tomorrow.

Now this came as a surprise because we had purchased them less than an hour earlier.

For this movie.

At this theater.

On this day.

Or so we believed.

The employee took our tickets to investigate.

A few minutes later the manager arrived.

This is where the evening took a turn.

Instead of opening with, “Let’s figure out what happened,” she opened with, “Come to the lobby or I’ll call the police.”

Now, in fairness, I was not entirely blameless at this point.

When informed that we somehow possessed tickets for a movie occurring in the future, I may have pointed out that her employees had made the mistake, not me, and that it was their responsibility to fix it.

I may also have used one of the few French words I know that starts with the letter F.

For context, I moved to Northern Maine about five years ago. The region has a strong French-Canadian influence.

Unfortunately, I am not French.

My heritage is mostly Irish.

So while many people around me speak French, my own understanding of the language is limited to menu items, road signs, and apparently profanity.

In retrospect, I have since learned that the word I used was not actually French.

Linguists may be relieved to hear this.

The manager, however, was not.

The choices presented to us were:

1. Go to the lobby. 2. Go to the lobby with police assistance.

I attempted to explain that I had paid for a movie, believed I had valid tickets, and wasn’t particularly interested in missing the opening scene while we sorted things out.

She remained committed to the police option.

At that point I realized we were becoming more entertaining than the movie itself.

So my brother and I got up and left.

In the lobby I requested refunds.

To their credit, they eventually refunded everything.

Well, almost everything.

I couldn’t produce the receipt for my watermelon Slurpee.

A loss I was willing to absorb because, honestly, the watermelon Slurpee was excellent.

As the refunds were being processed, the manager became increasingly frustrated and began dropping money onto the counter rather than handing it to us.

The first time she did this, I pointed out that she seemed to have a bad attitude.

This prompted another employee to arrive and apparently volunteer as her champion.

He puffed out his chest and attempted to look intimidating.

I admired his confidence.

I was less convinced by his odds.

Meanwhile another employee quietly stepped in and tried to de-escalate the situation. She was calm, polite, professional, and genuinely seemed interested in helping.

Ironically, she was the only person involved who appeared interested in customer service.

I asked to speak with the manager.

The woman handling the refund informed me that she was the manager.

I asked who her supervisor was.

Nobody.

Corporate?

No phone number.

District manager?

Not available.

Name of her boss?

Not happening.

At this point I began to suspect Auburn Flagship Cinemas might operate under a feudal system where the manager answers only to a higher cosmic authority.

Eventually we collected our refunds and left.

The whole experience bothered me more than I expected.

Not because I missed the movie.

Not because of the money.

And certainly not because of the Slurpee.

It bothered me because I care about movie theaters.

Movie theaters today face challenges from every direction. People have enormous televisions at home. Surround sound systems are affordable. Streaming services compete for attention every hour of every day.

The one thing theaters can always offer that homes cannot is the experience.

The experience is the product.

It’s how guests are greeted.

It’s how problems are handled.

It’s whether people leave feeling welcomed or wondering why they bothered.

As someone who runs a small independent theater, I understand how difficult this business can be. Most movies don’t make us rich. Some barely break even. We depend on a handful of major releases every year to help carry us through the slower months.

That’s why experiences like this matter.

When someone has a bad experience at a movie theater, they don’t just avoid that theater.

Sometimes they start avoiding movie theaters altogether.

That’s bad for large chains.

It’s bad for small independent cinemas.

And it’s bad for an industry that already has enough challenges.

Now, to be fair, I wasn’t perfect.

I didn't notice they sold me the wrong day.

I argued.

And I accidentally demonstrated my complete lack of French fluency.

But customer service isn’t tested when everything goes right.

It’s tested when things go wrong.

And from the moment a simple ticketing issue became a threat to call the police, the evening never really recovered.

So no, I’m not angry.

I got my refund.

I survived the ordeal.

And I got a pretty good blog post out of it.

But if anyone from Flagship Cinemas Auburn happens to read this, I have one simple request:

Please do better.

Because movie theaters are worth saving.