When movies bomb
Working in a cinema in Northern Ireland in the mid-nineties was always eventful. Since my beloved, inbred hicksville country is about 400 years behind the rest of the UK we often had to put up with things like Ian Paisley and his merry band of Free Presbyterians picketing the lastest releases. Showgirls incurred the wrath of the righteous (Flesh! Fornication! Could lead to dancing!) and going to see In the Name of the Father was a tense waltz past the placards.

It was The Devil's Own that proved most controversial though. A film worth picketing for Brad Pitt's dodgy accent alone, it did not escape the attentions of the Loyalist factions who saw it as some kind of glorified IRA recruiting vehicle (perhaps they were peeved at the implication that Republican terrorists are strapping blond Holywood hunks). Anyway, I was selling tickets for that evening's showing when the call came in.

Norn Irn in the mid-nineties had a well-established system in place for all things Troubles-related, so codewords were used to confirm that bomb threats were legit - as legit as a bomb threat can be, anyway. We were told there was a bomb in the cinema in one of the 10 screens. We heard the code word, and we responded. The evacuation procedure sprang into place and we began herding people out of the multiplex. I held the door open and cheerily reassured the customers that it was just a precaution as the RUC Land Rovers raced up outside.

Then, and I am astonished looking back at this but at the time it seemed perfectly normal, our managers appeared and asked us to search the cinema. Yes. We, who were getting paid under £4 per hour and had to wear dreadful uniforms into the bargain, were told to go and search each screen for suspect devices. The deadly, lethal, bomb-y sort.

I got cinema 2. As I approached the front row I saw a sports bag peeking out from under a seat.
"Um, John..." I said to the security guard who was tentatively poking around the back row, "there's a sports bag here..."

"Get out NOW," was his immediate response and the pair of us legged it to the door and into the foyer where we alerted the men with guns to our findings.

I then had to go outside and ask several hundred people if anyone had left a sports bag behind. None had.

The customer was very, very wrong. Nice customers do not leave suspect devices in cinemas for twenty year old girls to find.
( crackhouseceilidhband Fuck off back to Mumsnet, Tue 9 Sep 2008, 12:43, 7 replies)

So
Was it a bomb?
( K2k6 has a proper job these days, Tue 9 Sep 2008, 12:48, closed)

no
But that's not the point :)
( crackhouseceilidhband Fuck off back to Mumsnet, Tue 9 Sep 2008, 12:48, closed)

Sweaty gym kit?
Almost worse.
( Cawl, Tue 9 Sep 2008, 12:49, closed)

I know, CHCB
but I had to ask.

Once played a gig near Holywood barracks in Belfast, in the early 1990s. We were advised to check under our car after we returned to it. As I was doing so, the wind blew over one of our speaker stands, causing it to crash to the ground.

I've never been so near to shitting myself!
( K2k6 has a proper job these days, Tue 9 Sep 2008, 12:50, closed)

And why
did the police not do their jobs? It's not the duty of a bunch of young kids to go hunting for things that go boom. That's what the police are paid for.

Gits.
( The Resident Loon Not a demographic. Do not measure., Tue 9 Sep 2008, 13:04, closed)

Hmm.
DSS policy at the time was, when receiving a call that could be construed as a thinly veiled bomb threat, to gingerly poke around the office checking window ledges, cupboards, under desks etc... rather than just hauling everybody's arses outside and as far away as possible.
( Davros' Granddad a voice of calm reason in a world of spastics., Tue 9 Sep 2008, 13:15, closed)

My Old Feller
That'd be my Dad, not a coded reference to my under-employed winky, BTW.

Used to stay fairly regularly at the Europa Hotel, and pretty much every time someone would leave a bag or case knocking around, causing the guests to be shepherded outside in their jimjams by nervous men in flak jackets.
(osok Rebel without a clue, Tue 9 Sep 2008, 13:56, closed)