Thinking back, I can see that our college campus was a wild place. If my parents had known the truth, they’d probably have pulled me out of the college forthwith. One of the high spots of campus life was the terrace blue film show. Some enterprising soul would go to town and cut a deal with a video cassette shop. The equipment would be spirited into the campus under cover of darkness and set up on the terrace. We’d enjoy a hearty dinner in our respective messes, and having paid the entry fee, make our way to the terrace armed with a chair, a pillow, and a packet of cigarettes. The chair would be placed upside down on the floor, backrest sloping down at an angle and legs sticking out like a kitten begging to be tickled, and we would all lie down and recline comfortably against the chair. Let the show begin!
On one such occasion, the organizer as usual went to town and scanned the list of available titles at the video cassette shop. After much agonizing, he finally chose a movie that on the face of it promised to deliver the kind of bang for the buck that the army of sex-starved testosterone-driven teens on the campus craved for. That night, however, the audience was in for an especially cruel letdown.
The film that was selected? Chitty Chitty Bang Bang! 🙂