My first summer in Houston was pretty much spent at the Dollar Cinema. We moved in July, and hadn't had the chance to make any friends yet, and our mom was scandalized by the price of, well, pretty much everything. Moving from a small city to a large one can have that effect. Everything we would normally have done was too hot, too far away or too expensive. The Dollar Cinema was a godsend. Yes, it had sticky floors (soda, I'm hoping and praying) and was still showing Home Alone 2: Lost in New York in the summer of 1993, but it beat a bunch of whiny northern-transplant kids complaining about the heat and boredom.
Photo by Nicholas L. Hall The best bad decision.
It was in a half-abandoned shopping center tucked into the corner of South Gessner and 59, right next to a store that seemed to specialize in Paula Abdul tapes and parachute pants, and an off-brand 99¢ store that started my brief obsession with veladoras. Mom would smuggle in Starbursts and Reese's Pieces in her giant purse, and for less than ten bucks win a couple of hours of (relative) peace.