This is “all I ask of you”…Theatre Etiquette 101.

I love musical theatre. Love it. I am a Gleek.  From the time my mom took me to see A Chorus Line  during one of our summers in NYC to now, every time I get a chance to see a show live, I take it.  I’ve seen shows in LA, NYC and London.  I’ve seen Les Miserables  and Phantom of the Opera more times than I can remember.  Chicago, In the Heights, Bring in Da’ Noise, Bring in Da’ Funk, Rent, Movin’ Out, The Producers, Wicked…the list goes on. Sadly every time I have gone to a show in LA as of late, I am reminded as to how lax (read: crass, boorish, inappropriate) people are here when it comes to going out on the town. Here is my 7-point wish list for theatre-goers…spread the word:

1. I know it’s a matinée. But if you paid $80 for a ticket to a show, I think you can afford to throw on your Sunday best to attend (or if you didn’t pay, you can probably afford to buy something appropriate.) In case you don’t know what your Sunday best is, let me give you a heads up as to what it ISN’T:

  •  A fire department t-shirt. Don’t get me wrong, I love our FD, but their shirts don’t belong at the Pantages.
  • Shorts. It’s air-conditioned inside. Come on.
  • Jeans. You’re not going to the mall. You’re going to the theatre. Dress like it.
  • The outfit you wore hooking for your John on Sunset the night before. Enough said.

2. Please don’t drink so much at the bar prior to the show that when you sit next to me, your pores ooze booze so that you smell like a bar. Gross.

3. Do you wear a ten-gallon hat to the movies?  Don’t wear one to the theatre. If we sit behind you, we can’t see. (This is why I won’t move to Texas. Ok, one of the reasons.)

4. Do you normally wear a bee-hive? Or a natural a la Angela Davis? Perhaps your tickets to Les Miserables  would be a good time to try a new hair do. Like…anything that doesn’t add 6 inches to your height. Again, we can’t see around your wonderful hair.

5. There is a giant sign before you enter the theatre that says don’t use a camera.  So guess what that means? Don’t use a f*&king camera!  The ushers have better things to do than tell your dumb a$$ to put your camera away.

6. I know you are totally important.  Like sooo important. But I really don’t need to see your glowing cell phone while you text your BFF during the final act. Or any act for that matter. Unless you are a doctor, turn that crap off. In fact, if you are a doctor, I hope you got someone to cover your shift during the three hours you are watching the show, so turn your phone off too.

7. I know you are loving the show. And you totally want to talk about how awesome it would have been to see Kristen Chenoweth and Idina Menzel in the original Broadway cast of Wicked. But guess what. I really don’t want to hear this conversation now (and no one else does either.) Save it until intermission or after the show.

So…leave all thoughts of the world you knew before…. and don’t make an ass out of yourself next time you see a show.

By Joy

I'm 42, a remarried mom of an 8 year old girl and a toddler son, a teacher, and a writer. People tell me I tend to be brutally honest and ...tell it like it is, so I had hoped to use this outlet to keep me sane while I got used to my new life as a stay-at-home Mom back when I was home with my worked. And it's been therapeutic through the end of a marriage and the emergence of me...


  1. Next time (for whatever reason there is a next time) you can sit in the middle……I had no problem with the seats on either side of me! I especially love your No. 5!

  2. I don’t think I can go to public gatherings of any kind anymore….too many people irk me. I don’t know where all the barns are in Los Angeles but I am constantly running into people who were raised in them!!!

What's your 2 sense?

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.