Earlier today, I penned a post about a number of problems that have arisen at the Festival grounds in Newport Beach, and proceeded to publish the article to my blog this morning.
Shortly thereafter, a PR woman - by the name of Saba Shirazi - appeared at my side at the computer I was using and demanded that I leave the festival lounge.
"Fine," I said.
When I stood up to leave, she screamed at me.
"Why would you do that?"
By "that" she meant write the negative article about Gregg Schwenk, his incompetence, and the shoddy way filmgoers, pass-holders, and the press have been treated the past few days.
As she escorted me toward the open door, suddenly and without warning, she grabbed the glass door and proceeded to close it in my face before I could step outside.
Odd behaviour, wouldn't you agree, for someone who desires that I leave?
One minute she was asking that I leave the premises, and then - when I attempted to do so promptly - she tried to prevent me from stepping outside.
At this juncture, I pushed the door open and started to slip through an open crack.
The bizarre mentally-ill woman then proceeded to grab my body and prevent me from exiting!
So, as best I could, I pushed her away in an effort to free myself from her uninvited clutches.
When I freed myself, I started to walk off.
Now, she screamed after me.
"Stop him! He pushed me."
What a bunch of nonsense.
She asked that I leave, and when I attempted to do so in a professional manner, she instigated a confrontation by grabbing onto my body and trying to hold me there against my will in the lounge.
It was obvious at this point that she had a few screws loose - and was an extremely dangerous person - so I started to dash off down the mall to my car.
She yelled to passers-by:
"Stop him! Stop him!"
Wacko, man!
At the parking lot I ran into a security guard I met earlier today.
As I explained what was happening, another employee (who had been following me!) dashed up and told the guard to hold me.
"He took something," he exclaimed out-of-breath.
I held my hands out for him to see. I didn't take anything.
What about your press pass?
Oh, I have that, I responded. She didn't ask for it.
He shook his head in disbelief and appeared to realize that I had been wrongfully accused and in the process had my rights violated!
He left.
The, on the heels of his departure, the woman I had the tussle with at the door ran up.
"Hold him," she demanded of the guards.
"We can't hold him, ma'am. We aren't police officers. Do you want to bring charges?"
"I want you to keep him here 'til my boss comes (Mr. Schwenk)."
"We can't Miss," he responded matter-of-fact after accessing the situation.
"But, he pushed me," she screamed.
"I was exiting the door when she tried to close it in my face. When I managed to get through it, she grabbed me and tried to detain me," I noted exasperated.
"I was trying to hold him there," she screamed.
A-ha!
She just admitted the bald-faced truth in front of two security guards.
"She admitted she was trying to hold me against my will, " I pointed out to the officers who appeared to agree with my own account of the distressing nightmare I'd just been through.
If I decide to file a criminal complaint, I will have the security guards appear as my witnesses.
So, I left as she stewed there in the hot afternoon sun, waiting for Mr. Schwenk.
I've heard of actors, directors - even producers - getting upset over a bad review, but this was downright shocking and disturbing.
Were they going to hold me there at the computer and force me to delete the negative post?
If not, spirit me away? Dump me in a dumpster, somewhere?
Avoid the Newport Beach Film Festival like the plague - and in particular Ms. Shirazi - if you value your peace of mind and sanity.
These folks are bonkers, dudes!
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