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We went to see Lewis Black at Rowan University last night. Lewis was really very good.

I wanted to kill every single other person in the room.

I wish I could not let it get to me . . . but man, I just can't help it. He performed for over an hour and a half, which I thought was a long time, and I was very impressed. In that time, at least ten cell phones went off. Ten. Onetwothreefourfivesixseveneightnineten. This is a conservative estimate. It may have been as many as fifteen.

I don't understand why, at cell phone number . . . oh, five, people didn't think "ooh, I think my phone's on! Here, let me turn it off before I create a disturbance." Actually, I think I do understand why. Want me to share? Because they don't care.

The people sitting directly behind me came in about 45 minutes late (and Lewis was over a half an hour late to start, so really, these kids were over an hour late). In the middle of the performance, the phone of the guy sitting directly behind me started to ring. I gave a pointed look to the people sitting next to me, which he was sure to see. Fine. Let's get back to the comedy. Then I realized he had answered the phone. He proceeded to carry on a conversation. Not "oh shit man, I'm right in the middle of Lewis Black, gotta go" -- he was carrying on a conversation. I turned around to stare pointedly at him. He looked right back at me. "Are you serious?" I asked him quietly. I wasn't giving him a dirty look, so much as a "I can't believe this is actually happening" look, because I couldn't believe it was actually happening. I turned back around. He didn't get off the phone. I feel like this whole entry should be in italics, because otherwise, you won't believe me. I actually heard him say to the phone, "yeah, it's pretty funny." After another 30 seconds of me not being able to hear Lewis Black over the DEAFENING RAGE in my skull, I turned back around and looked at him and said "get off the phone." He lifted his chin at me. Twenty, maybe thirty seconds later, he said, "I have to go," and finally got off the phone.

There was this girl, about seven rows up from us. She began to have a conversation with the person next to her. We could hear her, though sometimes we were distracted by the OTHER people having conversations. We looked back at her; she wasn't facing Lewis, and whispering to her friend. She was facing her friend, chatting. She had no fraction of her attention on the stage.

I wish I could let these things not bother me, but they did, like crazy. SO distracting. SO rude. I -- more than anything else, I was amazed that no one was EMBARASSED to be caught doing anything. At the same time, they weren't TRYING to be rude, either. They just -- didn't -- care. They didn't think they were doing anything wrong. I wanted to hack every single person's head off with my dull machete. I fucking hate people. This is why I don't leave the house. Because every single one of those fuckers -- and by those fuckers I mean "the general public" -- deserves to fucking die. Right now.

So what I'm saying is, GOD DAMN FUCKING NO-RESPECT KIDS THESE DAYS, I MEAN SERIOUSLY. I can't wait til someone invents lasguns.


( 17 comments — Leave a comment )
Sep. 13th, 2002 07:50 am (UTC)
---I wasn't giving him a dirty look, so much as a "I can't believe this is actually happening" look, because I couldn't believe it was actually happening. ----

i was sitting 6 inches from your face and you were giving him a dirty look....a very dirty look....a very DESERVING dirty look.
god bless america.
Sep. 13th, 2002 08:02 am (UTC)
dude, these are the same kids who complain about how there is "nothing to do". What jerks.
Sep. 13th, 2002 08:35 am (UTC)
there was this guy in the movie theatre, whose phone rang, and he picked it up. not only did he have a conversation, he started telling his friend about the movie, what this guy was doing, what that guy was doing.

Sep. 13th, 2002 08:44 am (UTC)
Nothing beats old ladies fumbling with those noisy plastic bags and little kids asking 98370492205 questions at the same time.
Sep. 13th, 2002 08:57 am (UTC)
I absolutely hate it when people talk through a set. I'm glad you killed them all.
Sep. 21st, 2002 10:57 pm (UTC)
Man oh Man, me too! I really liked it when sh...
wait a minute
Sep. 13th, 2002 09:20 am (UTC)
It's times like this where you need a blowgun. I've been thinking about blowguns a lot lately, and how handy they'd be to have around.
Sep. 13th, 2002 09:30 am (UTC)
Yes! Next time I go to something like this (which is Saturday), I have to bring some kind of projectile weapon. Like spitballs. Or marbles to throw. Or a rubber band gun. Because it's not like a movie; you can't yell at people to shut the fuck up, because then you too are disturbing the perfomer.
Sep. 13th, 2002 09:59 am (UTC)
A couple of years ago, Lawrence Fishburne was doing a show in NYC, and someone's phone kept ringing through the entire show, and finally, he stopped mid sentence and said "Would You PLEASE answer that Damned Phone. Thank You." He then went on with the show.

I'm amazed that live performers don't walk out when the phones start ringing.
Sep. 13th, 2002 10:29 am (UTC)
MEET MARTIN MULL! He did that very thing during a performance of Uncle Varnya! Then the stage manager came out and explained what was up, and then EVERYone turned and looked at the guy whose beeper was going apeshit. Then he got ejected, Mull came back out, and they picked up where they left off. It was glorious.
Sep. 13th, 2002 10:33 am (UTC)
That's about the coolest thing I've ever heard. About the worst "cellphone rining in a performance" thing I've experienced was, stupidly, in Spiderman. This guy behind us answered it and had a chat -- like, "yeah, Spiderman...nah, it's pretty good...he hasn't got his super powers yet, no..." Anyway, we would a busted a cap, but he was the same guy we noticed when we came in. Why'd we notice him? HE HAD ONE OF THOSE BIG GOLD RINGS THAT COVERS ALL FOUR FINGERS ON EACH HAND. We couldn't find out what they said without staring, and we didn't have the guts to stare.
Sep. 13th, 2002 11:37 am (UTC)
Martin Mull = My new hero.
Sep. 13th, 2002 01:17 pm (UTC)
granted, those people did suck, & granted, i mostly want to kill everyone who's anywhere that i am, especially college kids, but i think you're getting crotchety in your old age. or crotchetier, maybe.

also, why was everyone so dang-blasted ugly? i don't want to say hideous, but in a rather large theatre full of college-age Americans, i think there should be more than a handful of either gender who aren't actively unattractive.

Sep. 13th, 2002 01:52 pm (UTC)
You apparently never spent much time at Rowan. That campus has to be one of the worst in the tri-state area when it comes to "attractive women"*... Christ, even Rutgers-Camden doesn't have so many chicks who had the ugly tree fall on them.

* present company excepted, of course
Sep. 13th, 2002 02:25 pm (UTC)
but i think you're getting crotchety in your old age. or crotchetier, maybe.

Dude, I KNOW! I hate it! I need to snap out of it, seriously. Can you imagine if I hadn't smoked beforehand? Sweet Jesus.
Sep. 16th, 2002 08:58 am (UTC)
Lasguns suck. We need Bolters.
Sep. 16th, 2002 06:03 pm (UTC)
Some lady's cellphone rang TWICE during an act at a renaissance fair, and she answered it, and both times the guy ran down, took it, and gave info on who he was and what she was interrupting, and other stuff (not all of it entirely appropriate for little children), and hands it to the person in the front row with instructions to say hi, and pass it back, until it reaches the person who owned it. She was embarrassed as hell, and rightly so.
( 17 comments — Leave a comment )

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