The intrepid Alix Fox is at your mercy. This week she rolled up for a part-time job.
So, it has come to this. I’m lying on my back in a Brent Cross car park, legs akimbo, while a photographer takes snaps of me, prone and moaning.
I haven’t been driven to star in some grotty Pay & Display themed porno for a living. In fact, this parking area has been converted into a pop-up retro drive-in cinema, screening movies Friday to Sunday every week until mid-November. Vehicles full of filmgoers are supplied with wireless headphones, plus soda and snacks whizzed to their windows. I’m here to audition to be one of the wait-staff on wheels. And I’m on the ground because I can’t skate for toffee, never mind hot dogs.
Professional rollerskaters from Gerry Cottle’s Wow Circus put wannabes through their paces.
‘First, we’ll need to see you slalom to demonstrate your balance and control,’ says a guy with multicoloured LEDs in his wheels which flash as he zigzags expertly between glitzy sports cars. I nearly career
headlong into a Porsche.
Fellow auditionees offer tips. ‘Push out with your feet, not backwards,’ advises Uma Thumpin’ of roller derby squad London Rockin’ Rollers. I try. I flail. I fail. I’d be better off serving food as one of those girls whose naked bodies are used as sushi platters – I’ve bashed my knees so much by this point they’re nearly concave, so could easily be used as soy sauce bowls.
Next, we’d like you to carry boxes of popcorn to customers,’ announce the assessors. During the jittery journey from kerb to car, clutching cartons to my chest, I spill most of the contents down my dress’s neckline. It’s then made clear that leaning through the passenger-side window and scooping damp kernels out of my top into somebody’s lap is not an acceptable delivery method at this establishment.
Ah well. No starring role for me, then.
Drive In Film Club tickets cost £22 per car. To join the skating staff, see experiencecinema.com.