Grace Notes @ Snarkattack

It was a chilly Monday evening, a few weeks ago. Quite far from where I currently live, there’s a beautiful old-style cinema called the Astor, in Windsor. A good friend of mine had organised for a few of us to see the film Baraka (which I think has dated incredibly, but has stunning cinematography – also, the print was in stellar condition).

I’d left an hour and a half early, and my friend Col couldn’t turn up because of work. So, I was alone. I bought my ticket, and waited.

The foyer, unusually, was empty. I’d expected lots of people to turn up to see the film.

About twenty minutes before the film was to start, a cat wandered out. I was quite surprised, and gleeful. She walked past me and hopped onto the lap of a gentleman who was sitting on one of the couches. Shyly, we conversed about the cat’s boldness.

Him and his partner left and the cat sat on the worn couch by herself. The above photo I took when I was sitting next to her, waiting. She’s very friendly and quite used to people. Her nametag said she was called Marzipan.

After the film, I saw one of the ushers sitting next to her. I wandered over and asked him if the cat belonged here. He said yes, she did, and that she wasn’t afraid of large crowds of people, and that she was spoilt rotten and quite well for her eighteen years. I grinned like a kid as he spoke about her. We said goodbye and he told me to come back.

If you should ever find yourself at the Astor, I hope you meet her. She’s really quite a darling.