Letter 17 – Coming to Atlanta


Dear Alamo Drafthouse,

It’s been a long time since I’ve left my home in Austin and the royal treatment I received at your chain of excellent cinema-restaurants.  Every time I frequented one of your establishement I felt like the staff were going out of their way to make sure I had an enjoyable experience; refilling my drinks, getting food out to me quickly, making sure I wasn’t disturbed by other patrons, and having the best bathrooms one could wish for. With that kind of service I truly felt like a prince. Heck I’d wager some of your staff would even throw rose petals at my feet or hop on one foot and bark like a dog if I asked them to – that’s the kind of great customer service y’all provide on a daily basis.

Alas, since leaving Austin and what now feels as far-away an experience as living in a fictional african nation, I have been unable to find a theatre that can match what you have to offer.  Perhaps I was too hasty, setting out with my best friend to an unknown land, leaving everything to chance on the belief that I could find happiness in another more independent-minded theatre.  Now I must face the reality of  my arrival in the urban sprawl of so many tired cinema chains. Gone are the days of good food and efficient service.  In their place I have been beset by knock-off food, shoddy accomodations, and the kind of service that seems to say “Hey – fuck you!” in response to a simple “Good morning!”

So now I’m writing to you, Alamo, in all your majesty and eminence, to please send help.  Our patience and endurance of high-admission prices, low standards, unoriginal programming and people who talk during the movie has been depleted.  Kindly send one Drafthouse franchise, as we are in dire straits.  Atlanta has much to offer you; lively barber shops, affordable housing, and black-awareness programming that will have you yelling “I am very happy to be here!”

Your Humble Servant,

Nick from Atlanta.

P.S. See you soon!

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