If you want to see whether you should live with your significant other, move in together during a pandemic.

That’s what happened with my girlfriend and I when we bought a house in April. Despite both of us working from home and spending nearly every waking moment together, we haven’t ripped our hair out yet. Of course, it’s been challenging to maintain our spark; there’s only so much burnt pasta she can stomach. So last week, we planned for a romantic dinner along the waterfront followed by a nightcap on the porch. And then, like a good wingman, AMC Theatres stepped in to complete the date night trifecta.

You know the story: movie theaters have been closed for months. But with many reopening on August 20, the largest theater chain in the United States was luring customers back by announcing that ticket prices on reopening day would be just 15 cents – the average cost in 1920 when AMC launched. Considering that a modern movie night costs the same as a day at Disney World, the deal was totally worth it for us to return to the petri dish, even during a pandemic. After all, who doesn’t love a cheap date?

Technically, this wouldn’t be my first cinematic experience since the world shut down. In July, ASI invited employees and their families to a drive-in movie night in the office parking lot. The nostalgic activity has seen a resurgence throughout the country due to social distancing. Walmart has even transformed 160 of its parking lots into drive-in theaters, showing classic, family-friendly films like Space Jam and Wonder Woman.

As fun as the drive-in was, we were willing to be guinea pigs for AMC’s “new normal,” along with 40% of moviegoers who are also ready to return to seeing movies immediately, according to a study by ticketing app service Atom Tickets. We were curious to see how the chain would address moviegoers’ top concerns, like social distancing and mask enforcement. In June, AMC announced that masks would be optional before quickly backtracking and requiring all patrons to wear them.

I can’t speak for every AMC theater, but the one at Neshaminy Mall – a hop, skip and a jump from ASI’s office in Trevose, PA – followed protocol. Ushers and concessions employees wore black masks and were shielded by sneeze guards. Moviegoers kept their masks on until finding their seats, and then put them back on when they were done eating and drinking. The concessions had a limited menu with no free refills and the butter for your popcorn was distributed in small cups.

As I scanned the scene, the promo opportunities were plentiful. All employees could wear branded masks, and all customers could be given AMC-logoed masks in the same vein as receiving 3D glasses. There was hand sanitizer when you entered the lobby, but perhaps AMC could leave small, branded bottles in the cup holders. There could also be more signage informing customers of all the changes; for instance, we spent a solid three minutes looking for the butter dispenser.

And the need for promo shouldn’t stop there. The comfy chairs and frigid air conditioning of the theater was calling our names, but there’s still a sizable portion of the population that isn’t so eager to return, even if they were given tickets for free. If AMC wants to lure more folks back to the theater, promotional products have to be considered. In addition to branded personal protective equipment (PPE), the chain could offer swag to customers, such as T-shirts commemorating the grand reopening, decorated buckets for popcorn refills, logoed keychains, AMC phone covers or branded drawstring bags. The company could also reward its AMC Stubs members with higher end items to re-establish loyalty, offering premium gifts like gourmet snack packages and Bluetooth speakers.

If promo can bring those people back, they might be surprised by how much they would enjoy the theater experience again. Any COVID-related inconvenience we experienced on opening night was trivial. We plopped in our seats, munched on Buncha Crunch, slurped a giant blue ICEE and enjoyed an evening of normalcy. With every other row blocked off, the theater was filled close to capacity. It was cathartic to hear a room full of laughter after months of isolation. My girlfriend and I joked that we would tell our grandchildren about this historic moment:

The day America went back to the movies, and we saw Sonic the Hedgehog.