I am so looking forward to Victorious. What a great advert for the city.
There was a super article in a national paper talking about festivals in the regions and how they are providing both entertainment for the local masses and helping to sustain careers of older acts.
It spoke so positively of Victorious and its growth and impact on the economy.
I was recently lucky enough to see the Beach Boys at a similar style event overseas.
The line-up included two of the original members of the band who were in their very late seventies.
Most of the audience were juggling between enjoying the spectacle and prepping themselves to run onstage and offer CPR.
Prepare to be complained at – goodbye Mrs Nice girl
I was recently told by a male friend that he complains – a lot – while at the cinema and ends up with free tickets.
He complains about other people talking, about dirt on the screen, and something else which I’ve now forgotten.
On each of these occasions he’s received complimentary tickets for all of the party, to see what they wanted next time.
I am infuriated by this.
Seriously. Why is it that when I’ve mentioned things which aren’t right, I am thanked for bringing this to the cinema’s attention, but never offered any recompense?
I’ll tell you why – it’s because I am far too nice.
Recently, for instance, I was in Gunwharf’s Vue, on a Saturday afternoon watching Jaws and froze – not in stillness, but in temperature.
The air-conditioning was extraordinary. And I know it’s cold in there – I have mentioned that to staff before – so I’d taken a fleece and a scarf much to the mocking of my teenage daughter who accompanied me.
She wasn’t laughing so much though as she sat there shivering – we ended up sharing the layers, and were still both icy.
When we came out, I said to a member of the team that it was freezing and she said she’d let someone know.
And there’s the problem – I should have made it much clearer that our enjoyment was diminished by the temperature, I should have complained loudly and crossly.
There was another time I asked an usher to eject two very rude girls who were throwing popcorn and talking loudly through The Meg, a film about a prehistoric sea monster.
I wasn’t offered free tickets for that performance being ruined – and I’m now wondering if other people were?
Should I have come out of there and said the golden words: ‘I am complaining’? Followed by, ‘I want to know what you are going to do about it?’
There’s a correlation here, and it’s not just to do with shark films.
It’s about me being helpful, but people who specifically complain being rewarded. A lesson to be learned maybe?
What will you buy up to get you through the apocalypse?
I have yet to start stockpiling for Brexit, but it’s playing on my mind. What do I need?
I like to buy copious amounts of coffee and Clover anyway whenever it’s on sale. My children laugh at this, and jest that I am readying myself for a zombie invasion.
But with the price of coffee and margarine and the amount I go through, it’s sensible economics.
So what if I have a cupboard dedicated to Gold Blend and a fridge stuffed with bumper-sized Clover cartons?
I’m not sure what I’ll need post-crash-out-how-did-it-end-up-this-bad-Brexit.
I wonder what medicines I’ll need to get over this fiasco and the hangover that it’ll surely leave.