Here's a post I originally wrote on my old blog in October 2010. I present it here in its entirety, complete with the question I pondered at the end... nowadays, I'm pretty sure I know the answer, but back then I was more mild-mannered.
In which I end up walking out of a gig after a blazing row over a mobile phone...
You know how most gigs start out a bit rubbish, with a lacklustre support act, then gradually improve as the artist you've come to see plays all their new songs before working up to an amazing greatest finale hits finale that sends you home on a high?
Friday night was a gig in reverse.
It began with the best support act I've seen in donkey's ages, The Candle Thieves, just two young lads with guitar and keyboard, yet they filled the venue with their quirky, Eels-influenced-but-poppier, songs and their big-hearted bravado. For one song, Stars, lead Thief Scott McEwan unplugged his guitar and walked around the quarter-full audience, singing as he went. After that, the Candle Thieves had us. I bet they sold a lot of CDs from the merch stand that night; I certainly bought one.
After this, the headliner had a lot to live up to. Badly Drawn Boy's whole act however is one of ramshackle can't-be-arsedness. This is amusing for a while, and certainly on his opening acoustic set wherein he played a number of his biggest songs (occasionally accompanied by his 10 year old daughter, which even I found sweet) he looked liked he was going to deliver the performance we'd all been revved up for. The problems began when he invited on the rest of his band. The whole "they'll wander on and start playing as they feel like it in the middle of the song" routine felt contrived, and the band brought little to his act. The new album is a slowburner, but too often its delicate tunes just turned to mud and even Mr. Gough himself seemed unhappy with the way it was sounding, eventually calling for a half-arsed "fag break" interval right when any other act would be switching up a gear to the show-stoppers. Maybe they came back on and tore the roof off... I'll never know.
Because, midway through BDB's act, I became distracted by the woman next to me who was having a long text conversation on her phone. I mean, a LONG text conversation - it went on for over two songs by the time I'd finally had enough. She had one of those phones that double as lighthouses when you switch them on and her texting was illuminating the whole row.
Finally, I couldn't take it any more. I turned to her and, polite as I could manage, asked if she wouldn't mind switching her phone off as all I could see was the light.
"I was just sending a very important text to someone who's in hospital," she tried to explain. I shrugged - if it's that important, why not take it outside the auditorium rather than disturb everyone else and disrespect the performer? - but as she acquiesced and turned the phone off I said nothing more and carried on watching the show. As far as I was concerned, the matter was settled.
I've watched enough Curb Your Enthusiasm to know things are rarely that simple...
As BDB called fag-break, we took a moment to stretch our legs and use the loo. On returning to our seats, the woman with the phone decided to have her say.
"You were very rude to me," she said, "are you going to apologise?"
I explained that as far as I was concerned it was far more rude to spend ten minutes lighting up the whole venue with a phone...
"It wasn't ten minutes."
"It was over two songs!"
"It was two songs. And I explained that I had to send an important message to someone in hospital. And I apologised. But you were rude and you didn't apologise."
I began telling her I didn't see how I had anything to apologise for...
...which is when her son turned up.
"Is there a problem here?"
"There's no problem," I told him.
"I DON'T CARE ABOUT YOUR OPINION!" he shouted, pointing an aggressive finger in my face, at which point they both started on me.
So we left. It seemed the easiest option, rather than trying to argue my case. It was after 10 and Badly hadn't built up enough good will for me to want to stick around and put up with this abuse. I was furious...
...but afterwards, I started to wonder: was I in the wrong? As hostile as he'd acted, I couldn't really blame the son. He'd come back in to see what he thought was me having another go at his mum. He wasn't to know that it was her who'd started the exchange. If I saw someone having a go at my mum, I'd probably have been similarly incensed. But did this woman really deserve an apology? I'd restrained my original request to a polite "would you mind...?" rather than the "TURN THAT FLIPPING THING OFF!" I'd been feeling, and I'd made no more of it after she finished her texting. She may well have been worried about a relative in hospital - but not worried enough to cancel her evening out, or even to step outside the auditorium to send her messages. And I wasn't the only one getting annoyed by the light from her phone. But should I have said nothing? Or should I have dropped to my knees in supplication at the very mention of a sick relative? Is it just me? Do you think I was in the wrong?
