and now for our feature presentation

I can understand the concept of niche markets, I really can. With big corporations like Wal-Mart snagging the majority of American consumers in today's world, the only real way to start up your own business is to find a niche market. Logically, this makes perfect sense. Yet I truly don't know how these places are able to stay in business.

Seriously now, I could start my own store that sells a dairy substitute, sugar-free, kosher chocolate bar. And while I'm sure that there are some lactose intolerant Jews who are currently dieting but would still enjoy the occasional candy bar, I really can't imagine doing enough business to actually make any money.

This being said, I ventured out this past weekend to one of those 'second run' movie theaters. You save a few bucks by seeing movies that are currently ending their life in the theaters and preparing for reincarnation on DVD. Like most second run theaters, the place was a dump. The actual theater was about the size of your average family's garage. There were five rows of seats, all heading downhill from the screen...sort of like stadium seating in reverse...and the entire theater staff consisted of one lady. She took your money, ripped your ticket, and then sold you some popcorn. Talk about multi-tasking! The oddest part though, came after the tickets were purchased and we were waiting for her to rip them so that we could buy some popcorn. Sitting on the counter, in a big Tupperware container, was a large mound of rice.

Being that rice isn't typically found in a movie theater, I thought that perhaps somebody was planning on getting married there...though I quickly came to my senses and realized where I was. NOBODY in their right mind, no matter how much of a movie buff you are, would get married in this place. It was around this time I realized that about half of the theaters were showing some very odd films. Kyun! Ho Gaya Na was playing in theater one, and coming soon was the very popular Mujhse Shaadi Karogi. As I scratched my head in bewilderment I saw a little Hindu kid approach the counter and buy a little paper boat full of rice. The multi-tasking movie lady pulled out a second container and scooped some slimy looking green stuff on top for him. Then he skipped back into theater one.

It finally dawned on me that this particular cheap-o theater was catering to our Indian friends...and I didn't even realize that there was a large Hindu population in this part of the city, let alone any demand at all for Indian movies. And how the owner stays in business (there were three people watching the Indian flick...you couldn't expect me not to peek in the theater, could you?) is beyond me. Now, not to sound insensitive to other cultures, because they are certainly entitled to watch any kind of movies that they want, we decided on more American fare, namely The Terminal, with Tom Hanks.

And while I sat in row three (out of five), with my head tilted up and a crick quickly forming in my neck, the faint scent of curry wafting through the air, and a lone spring about ready to burst from the flimsy padding of my theater chair and straight into my spinal cord, I couldn't help think that next time I was going to splurge on the extra three bucks and go to one of those Super-Cinema theaters where the popcorn is fresh, the seats are more comfy, and I can pronounce the names of all the main features.