This year, for the first time since I was a little girl, I was unable to finish a season of Real Housewives of New York City, largely due to the behavior of Ramona Singer, a woman I once considered The People’s Princess. Born in dysfunction to parents who lived in the knot of a freakin’ tree surrounded by 70 acres, Singer worked her way out of the woods and into the buying department of Macy’s, her inspirational rise reminiscent of the life of Lady Diana Spencer, for the purposes of this blog post.
It’s no surprise, then, that Singer was moved to attend the premiere of “Diana the Musical” on Broadway this week, which reviews have since described as “tabloid trash,” “a royal mess,” and evocative of the “car crash” that famously took Princess Di’s life. Fittingly, Ramona felt right at home. According to Page Six, she shirked mask protocols, placed her drink on the stage, and arrived late to the second act after grabbing a drink at intermission.
Look at this poor little usher who was seen holding up a sign to remind her, specifically, to keep her mask on:
The joy I derived from this little Page Six item was like nothing I’d felt since I watched this “Andy Cohen being Messy/Shady: Reunion Edition” to fall asleep last night. I relished in the quintessential Ramona behaviors of unearned and unmerited disrespect, tiny-brained elitism, and wide-eyed gall — no one does it quite like her.
I live for this freak of nature, even though I no longer want to watch her on my television. While I don’t think Ramona should return to Real Housewives, I’d love if Page Six or perhaps an enterprising intern of Sonja Morgan’s could follow her around to shows, or to Mar-a-Lago, transcribing her conversations with servers, valets, men under 30, and men over 65 for Bravo-heads like me who have been pushed to the brim of freakin’ out by her antics.
For her part, according to her reps, “Ramona loved the play and thought it was an amazing night.”