The only time I have ever hit anyone was the loud American who decided to add his own appallingly crass commentary to Ninigawa’s version of A Midsummer Night’s Dream.

Yes of course it was in Japanese. But the rest of the audience was either Japanese and understood it or an averagely educated Brit who was willing to rely on whatever they could recall of Shakespeare’s plot without recourse to discussing it with their neighbour.

Anyway at the risk of coming over as excessively violent on my blogging debut, this story always comes to mind whenever I’m next to someone who insists on talking through a play, concert or film.

Even so, the etiquette of gigs is a tricky one. They’re clearly more informal than Covent Garden or the National Theatre.

But if you pay £50 for a couple of tickets to see one of your teenage heroines – as I did with the fabulous Melanie at the Shepherd’s Bush Empire on Friday night – then having some really talkative middle-aged bloke booming in counterpoint to Tuning My Guitar is a real downer.

That said, when I pay £50, I don’t expect to be seated in front of the gents’ loos with banging and squeaky doors either. Venue managements may find it tricky to do anything about their more irritating ticket-holders. They can do something about their doors.