At the flicks

Reading Kaz's post here about Saturday mornings at the cinema prompted a rather disturbing memory of my own. I used to go along quite happily each Saturday morning with my mates, my brothers, my brother's mates, to the now long-gone ABC cinema in Sunderland's Park Lane each week to watch Children's Film Foundation films back in the late 1970s. But the disturbing memory was of being pelted on the back of the head by the bad lads who sat at the back of the cinema and threw the shells from whelks (or willeks, as we used to call them) everywhere. The bloody things didn't half hurt if they caught you on the back of the head. Which they often did.