Phil Brown’s harsh words to concert goer wearing shorts

The duo - him wearing shorts and her wearing something rather too casual - arrived late to the Concert Hall. I really hope they heard what I said in a rather loud whisper, writes Phil Brown.

Oops! My inner monologue keeps slipping out. I’m becoming like my comedy hero Larry David. If you’re a Curb Your Enthusiasm fan you’ll know what I mean. Larry’s inner monologue is often outer and it gets him into lots of trouble.

In one episode he is commenting on the water he is served at dinner at his friend’s girlfriend’s place and he complains that the water is unfiltered.

“You have no filter,” she tells him.

Phil Brown. Picture: AAP/ Ric Frearson

I’m a bit like that.

If I’m in a supermarket and I can’t find something I might think … “Where the f--k are the udon noodles?”

The problem is that though I imagine I am just thinking it, quite often I will inadvertently say it out loud.

I was at the theatre recently and it was just going on and on and on as it often does and I thought … “I’m dying here, when is this damn thing going to finish?”

Luckily I was able to filter myself and mutter it under my breath. I hope the people sitting next to me weren’t offended.

I was at a performance in the Concert Hall at QPAC recently and two people came in late and they sat just in front of us. He was wearing shorts (NB: you don’t wear shorts to QPAC thanks) and she was wearing something rather casual too.

And I said to my son, possibly too loud … “This is a concert, not the beach.”

Did they hear me? I hope so.

Shorts are not ok at the theatre.

Because I’m getting to the point where I really don’t care. And freedom of expression seems to be an important issue now, so if my inner monologue slips out, all well and good.

It expresses itself in manifold ways.

If I feel like I’m being ignored in a shop, I’ll say something like … “What am I? Chopped liver?”

I was in a taxi the other day and the driver was beetling along at a snail’s pace for no apparent reason and I said … “Could you go any slower?” It was meant to be under my breath but he obviously heard me.

Taxis often make my inner monologue spill over … “Could you go a longer way?” or “Have you ever considered using a deodorant?” Just saying.

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