My favourite place in a multiplex theatre is the men’s toilet. No no, it’s not what you think. I take great pleasure in visiting this sanctum santorum especially during the interval of a film. Obviously it is the one time that many bladders from adjacent ‘screens’ congregate to unburden. But it is also a moment when a man reflects on one of life’s deepest existential questions — did he buy tickets for the right movie. At the booking counter he made that split second choice between bubble gum Bollywood and blood and gore indie cinema. And now in that minute between zip and unzip he makes several vital decisions — Will the ‘slow moving picture’ he’s watching pick up post interval ? If not should he prepone his dinner reservation at China Garden? Or could he brazenly slip unnoticed into the more masala film playing in Screen 3? (Surely his ticket should allow him access to the entire buffet available).