My world is Kelly Clarkson. Everything is Kelly Clarkson. To re-cap, Clarkson went into a store in Brooklyn and understood the vendor's tone to be snotty. She then posted on social media about the rudeness. But--being a celebrity--she unwittingly activated a mob of millions of people who subsequently attacked the Brooklyn store. And now the Brooklyn store is attempting to play the role of victim (and not the other way around).
I love this story. We're not supposed to make assumptions--but I'm going to make assumptions. The Brooklyn vendor was, in fact, rude (and we can't tell in the video because the sound is off, obviously so much in life is about tone, intonation). Clarkson was also having an iffy day--and, having grown up in Fort Worth, she was feeling particularly impatient with the default semi-rudeness that you are likely to find at *more than one* tiny Brooklyn shop counter.
Having grown up in Buffalo, I personally feel something like rage whenever a New York City host or hostess asks, smugly, "Is your full party here?" ....Life is hard enough. Just let me plant my butt in a seat. I also feel viscerally repelled by the near-automatic nastiness of "line monitors" at Broadway shows; yes, the job clearly sucks, and yet part of the job (I imagine) is giving a performance of basic civility. Why shouldn't people bite back when the "civility" part is forgotten?
I have a suggestion for Kelly Clarkson--in New York City, she should wear large, chunky headphones. I now do this basically all the time. It sends a quiet message: "I'm a bit eccentric, and you should give me a great deal of space." It works wonders.
Maybe I seem overly sympathetic to Kelly Clarkson here. I'm not. I do think that the Faustian bargain of fame involves surrendering your right to behave as a normal human being. This is why all of us should avoid fame. Clarkson *sought* celebrity--so, now, she has to cope with ridiculous standards. If she doesn't like the peaches, she should have thought twice before shaking the tree.
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