Donald Trump is the bull in a china shop, and I mean that in the nicest way. His competitors, delicate breakables, are lined up on the shelf, concerned that any bold move could topple them to the ground.
If Cinemacon was an essay, I was a measly comma. The fourth day of Cinemacon was my new beginning, a rebirth for the sassiest party-crasher on the strip. I hoped to wiggle into VIP areas with my usual poise and brashness, but I was unsure whether I could succeed.
I applied to be a seat filler with hopes of learning how this highly unusual profession works. Could this be the key to unemployment? Could filling seats fill bank accounts? It turned out the answer was no because the salary is zero.
Europeans outperform Americans on "historical facts about the world." Since Americans start the race 200 paces behind Europeans, why try in the first place? As a nation, we feel disadvantaged historically-speaking, so why further embarrass ourselves?