*Last week I aggravated an old ankle injury at a Bon Jovi show in Anaheim, necessitating my use of a cane. If you’ll indulge me, I’d like to use this blog to address an audience member who was at the Staples Center show a couple of days later. I wish I was making this up, but at least six people saw it. To any guys reading this, please be assured this post is no reflection on your gender. This is solely in reference to one guy, who represents the absolute worst of you.
Dear Rude Guy in Floor 1 at Bon Jovi Staples Center, Los Angeles, CA, October 11, 2013:
If your behavior at the above-mentioned show is any indication, there’s nothing “dear” about you.
Out of human decency I will do you the courtesy of not mentioning our row number, or your seat number, in a public forum. But don’t think I’m not tempted to. You’re probably lucky I’m the one writing this instead of someone who does not consider the power of his or her words.
In the middle of Jon Bon Jovi’s Circle Stage* performance to my right, you barreled your way down our row to get to Jon, passing in front of everyone in our row without so much as an “excuse me.” As you pushed past, you inappropriately ran your hand over BFF @Jinjer ’s hip area, then knocked my cane off of the back of the chair in front of me, sending my purse flying and nearly toppling me over as I balanced on one foot. Had that chair not been in front of me to grab onto, I would have fallen; the only thing that kept me from it was a hopping lurch toward it on my good foot.
Someone with less mobility would have gone down. Someone with manners would have noticed their error and apologized and perhaps helped the injured party retrieve her purse and cane, or, at the very least, said a simple “excuse me.” You did none of those.
If you’d made a beeline toward the restroom after your loutish behavior, I might have been more forgiving, because you may have been ill. (You looked sober.) But no…
You proceeded to stand in the aisle to my right, blocking my view, and then you attempted to crowd me out of my spot in front of my aisle seat and claim my seat as your own. (My seat was a full-price ticket, bought through normal channels, by the way. I wanted to have fun and not feel obligated to “network” so I didn’t even use an industry buy. Your seat was at the other end of our row.) Then you had the temerity to nudge and smile at me and try to be my concert buddy while I stood my ground (on my one good foot) and tried to ignore you as I clapped along in support of my favorite frontmen.
Oh, but wait…There’s more.
When I shouted in your ear, “I’m balanced on one foot. Please move!” and held up my cane to show you–yeah, the one you never noticed you’d sent flying a minute ago–you ignored me and continued to crowd me while I balanced precariously.
This is why you were at the show without a date. And if you think that trolling Bon Jovi concerts for female companionship is going to help you, you are sadly mistaken.
Do not think for a millisecond that gold Rolex you were attempting to show off by pushing up the sleeves of your cashmere sweater will help you. It won’t.
Do not try to blame my icy glare–some might call it “the stinkeye”–and my lack of any friendliness toward you on the fact that Jon Bon Jovi was standing a mere few feet away. While that certainly wouldn’t help your case, that’s not the problem here.
It’s you. More specifically, the problem is your behavior and demeanor.
You, sir—note the omission of a capital on that “S,” because you clearly don’t deserve one– are an ass.
That is why, unbeknownst to you, while you were busy pulling out your camera, I caught the eye of the usher working the aisle, gestured toward you, and gave her the Security “he’s outta here” hand signal. She nodded in recognition and came toward you immediately.
Until that show, it was unthinkable that I’d ever use it as an audience member. Even while working various artists’ shows I’ve only had to use it twice, because most people are truly good people who just get a little carried away. I do admit to feeling more than a little gleeful when I used it on you, however. You groped @Jinjer’s *ss and nearly knocked me over, remember?
You then proceeded to stand in the aisle pleading with the female usher, which only made you look more asinine (I didn’t think that was even possible). You had no case, and she got rid of you as two members of Security– who’d silently moved in behind you without your ever noticing–stood ready to escort you out as necessary. (As it always does when I see Security move in on someone, the theme from “Jaws” flashed briefly through my head.)
Let me guess: you didn’t get laid after the show that night, did you, Rude Guy?
Kudos and thank you to that usher and Security, who had their hands full that night. While they were dealing with you, I just rolled my eyes and shook my head and went back to watching my favorite frontman sing. You know…the guy who inspired me to want a music career in the first place.
Ain’t the Circle of Life grand?
And while all this was going on a few feet away from him? Jon, cool pro that he is, kept singing and didn’t miss a note, despite multiple audience distractions.
“Have a Nice Day,” Rude Guy.
P.S. Staples Center Guest Services staff, you rock! Thank you for helping me get around that night. You went above and beyond, and you did it with a smile. I wanted to see what differently-abled concert goers really experience, so you didn’t know I’m industry ‘til now… Surprise! Thanks again. I had a great evening, despite interference from Rude Guy.
“The world is only broken into two tribes: The people who are as*h*les, and the people who are not.”—Arnold Spirit Jr., The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian
*For those not familiar with the show, that’s when Jon comes down front with his acoustic guitar to sing a few songs.
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