Deep Throat Returns To The Big Screen!

By Andrew Whiteoak

Working in a cinema, or movie theater to my trans-Atlantic brethren, allows ample time for people-watching. Being in the centre of a reasonably large British city, a high proportion of our clientele are idiots. Perhaps that’s a sweeping generalisation, but the Britain portrayed, aptly for this piece, on the big screen by such pictures as Four Weddings and a Funeral and Notting Hill is so far removed from the reality its not funny. It’s so not funny that it is indeed funny once again. If you imagine what a typical football, sorry soccer. hooligan running amok on foreign turf throughout the 80’s and 90’s looked like, you’re almost there. Add an imitation Burberry baseball cap and some ridiculous gold jewellery and that’s the general look sported by probably thirty percent of our customers. They’ve just moved their loutish, thuggish behaviour from the stadiums to the pubs and nightclubs on a Saturday night, but that’s a different story entirely! Now, this type of customer, or ‘guest’ as the company doctrine demands we call all ticket-buying members of the public, are not suddenly the way they are when adulthood hits, oh no! Such idiocy must be nurtured, must not be corrupted or distorted by the evils of reading, for example, or school. So the point is we get a lot of idiots in the making, the young boys you know will be robbing old ladies for either kicks or drug dependencies, and the girls who’ll almost certainly have squeezed out one or two kids before they’re eighteen. I could write an amusing story once a week based on this particular social group, but the one I’m going share here is particularly scandalous.


It happened a couple of years ago during an after-school show of a film, the title of which was clearly so forgettable I‘ve forgotten it. Upon checking the auditorium about half way through the performance, one of our ushers noticed a couple sat at the very back, aged somewhere between 13 and 15, still in school-uniform. The girl appeared to by lying across the boy’s lap, her head bobbing rhythmically. The boy noticed as the girl apparently quite quickly jerked away and sat bolt-upright. The usher let everyone know to keep an eye out in that particular hall, as there was potentially some untoward and inappropriate actions taking place. As a projectionist I heard the radio call and chuckled. My colleague, a huge, quite menacing-looking man pointed out there was a service entrance at the back of that auditorium, and, be it from boredom or something sleazier, decided give it five minutes and take a look.

He followed through and managed to walk to within six feet of the pair, who had, in quite a gutsy move, continued pleasuring each other orally. Cool as a cucumber he leaned over uttered the now immortalised line: “Take that out of there,” - gesturing appropriately - “and get out.” After watching them sheepishly leave the auditorium, we hastily organised a decent farewell to maximise their embarrassment. Our employees lined the entire walkway through the foyer toward the front doors, looking, pointing and giggling loudly at the now mortified pair as they hurried out in the least dignified manner. Amazingly however, they stopped at the box office to ask for a refund! To this the manager, keeping an entirely straight face, pointed out that we have a "No Refunds For Under-Aged Children Engaging In Oral Sex During Movies" policy, and sent them away empty handed.