the life and musings of a kinky slut

Admiration Versus Adulation

We humans are odd animals. One smile, one gesture towards us from someone we hold in high esteem sends our minds racing. I myself turned into a jumping giggling fool Wednesday night from a simple gesture, though thankfully I was joined by a friend in my exclamations.

What level of Hell is it to not know if someone is a friendly fan or a forcible foe?

I am guilty of the sin of adulation, though my indiscretions are not so harsh as compared to what I have witnessed outside the Richard Rogers Theatre.

I get it. The show is phenomenal, the cast spectacular in their performances. Everything about this show is worthy of love. I admire all I have consumed in the music, media missives, and live musical.

But, at what point are you putting your obsessive need for recognition from those who create the art above the physical and emotional health and well being of the actors? When are you asking, or demanding, too much from folks who are simply people?

I got a smile and a blown kiss as he sped away; that was more than enough. The next night, a gentleman ran after him, following halfway down the block for a fucking selfie. That was too much.

We are not entitled to them. We pay for a ticket and get our three hours of wonder and amazement inside the theatre. Any more than that can never be expected. Any more than that is done out of kindness, not obligation.

They are people with lives outside of the theatre, families to go home to. Once the curtain comes down, they owe you nothing.

When they want to just go home, or not talk, or simply need to be of themselves without the throng about them, leave them alone.

Please, just let them be.

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