You know what really frosts my flakes?
The outrageous price of movie theater concessions.
A few weeks ago, while I was visiting Wisconsin, I went to see a movie. The ticket cost a perfectly reasonable $10.
Then I walked up to the concession stand and nearly needed a second mortgage.
A large popcorn and a large soda cost $19.57.
The actual cost to the theater was probably about 75 cents. A few handfuls of popcorn, some syrup, carbonated water and a paper cup. Yet, somehow they magically turned pocket change into a twenty-dollar bill.
Yeah, I could have saved an extra dollar by downsizing to a small popcorn and small drink.
Then I looked around at the rest of the menu.
A 20-ounce bottle of water? $6.55.
Milk Duds? $5.79.
Gummy bears? $6.50.
A hot dog? $7.25.
Oh, and if you wanted ketchup, that was another 50 cents. Since when did ketchup become a luxury add-on? What was next? A convenience fee for the napkin?
Now I understand theaters don’t keep much of the ticket price because so much goes back to the movie studios. That’s why concessions are where they make their money.
I get that. But, if you’re going to charge me twenty bucks for popcorn and soda, maybe don’t make me stand in line for 10 minutes while the employee moves with all the urgency of a tranquilized tree sloth.
They hand me the popcorn, give me an empty cup, and I fill the drink myself. Apparently I’m paying luxury prices for the privilege of working concessions.
Then I walk into the theater in the middle of July and discover they’ve set the thermostat to “penguin habitat.” I shouldn’t have to bring a winter coat to watch a summer blockbuster.
And after spending all that money, what do I get? Twenty minutes of commercials and previews before the movie even starts.
If I’ve already paid for the ticket and financed the theater through overpriced snacks, why am I still being advertised to?
It’s especially brutal for parents. They pay for multiple tickets, spend a small fortune on concessions, shell out another $30 or more for a babysitter, then sit there watching ads they didn’t ask to see.
I’m Grandpa Grumpy and, at these prices, the movie should start on time, the popcorn should come with free refills all day, and someone ought to fan me with a palm leaf while I eat it.