Jo-Anne George was dragged out of Rod Laver Arena last week. The 57-year-old was bruised not only in ego, but up and down her arm, too.
Getting a little too into the musical stylings of the great Stevie Nicks.
What a monster. Lock her up and throw away the key.
You know what other event has a high possibility of going awry? The office Christmas party.
After throwing down $204 for tickets to Thursday night’s show, Jo-Anne rightfully made it her mission to get out of her seat and dance to all her favourite songs.
“The security came up about three times and told me to sit down,” she told the Sydney Morning Herald.
“The next minute three of them had me and were dragging me along the floor of the aisle. They threw me out of the stadium.”
“All I wanted to do was dance.”
When I heard Jo-Anne’s story I felt an affinity with this woman. What is this, that Footloose town with its knickers in a bunch over a little bit of boogying? Let the woman dance, for goodness sake.
And then a long repressed memory came bubbling up. Because I too was kicked out of a concert for dancing.
My crime took place back in the winter of 2010.