If I had a home with a pool and a cat who liked to swim in it, I’d be set for life. That’s like all of my life goals, right there.
If I had a home with a pool and a cat who liked to swim in it, I’d be set for life. That’s like all of my life goals, right there.
Precisely. At that moment, you’re no one but a member of the audience. Give the performers, and your fellow show-goers, the respect they deserve.
EXACTLY. People who work in the field who still insist on acting like that drive me nuts.
I think you may have just invented an algorithm for Hollywood success.
And it only makes the problem worse. They believe they can because most of the time, it’s true. Make it not true.
You think SHE of all people would show some etiquette and respect towards the people performing.
Hands up if somebody could be Actual Jesus Himself and you STILL wouldn’t want him taking photos during a play you paid $150 each, minimum, to see:
Unpopular opinion from someone who works in theatre: Yeah, naw, Aretha was still being rude as fuck.
You know how much Broadway tix are these days? I am non confrontational, but that is a lot of cash & I wouldn’t want my enjoyment spoilt.
And now is when my theater nerdiness comes out.
When did everyone lose their backbone ? You can still like Aretha Franklin the performer but call her an asshole when she’s being an asshole.
I just wish she would R.E.S.P.E.C.T the rules? Is it too much to ask for a little respect? Just a little bit?
How bizarre. I don’t worship people - their talents, maybe- but not them.
It does seem kind of messed up that the only judge seats on The Voice not switched up are those belonging to the white male judges. As though 2WM is a constant in the show’s equation with BF (blond female) and AAM (African-American male) each being variables that can be seen as interchangeable quantities.
I don’t care if it’s Aretha, I wouldn’t have apologized. I would have given her my high school music teacher’s contact information so he can teach her some audience etiquette.
This guy is not even moderately attractive, and certainly nothing like the way he describes himself. Everything he wrote (as well as apparently thinking there was s chance she’d ever give him the time of day, later) reeks of deluded entitlement. She’s so out of his league physically, it’s ludicrous.
It's a tale as old as time: women always think they look worse than they do, and men always think they look better than they do.
And he calls himself