Ever wonder what it's like to go to a movie premiere? What about going to the New York premiere of Sex and The City at Radio City Music Hall, one of the city's oldest theaters, where the Rockettes strut their stuff? That sounds pretty glamorous, eh? Yeah, that's what I thought too.
When my husband brought home that invite to the Sex and The City: The Movie premiere last week, I was not only giddy about it, I literally jumped for joy. Like every other big-time fan of the HBO show, I've been looking forward to May 30, the movie opening date, for months. I watched the Oprah special two weeks ago. I recorded Sarah Jessica Parker's appearance on Late Show With David Letterman last week. I am a huge dork for Carrie Bradshaw and Co. This doesn't embarrass me.
What did embarrass me, however, was attending this premiere.
The ticket said the screening would start at 6:00 pm, but encouraged "arriving early" to see celebrity arrivals. OMG. Would I get to see Sarah Jessica step out of a chauffeured Bentley? I planned accordingly, to arrive at 4:30 pm. That way I'd only have to leave work a little early, and I would definitely get a seat inside the theater.
When I got out of the Rockefeller Center subway station at 4:30 pm (which lets you out literally in front of Radio City Music Hall), a full hour and a half before the start of the event, I was feeling pretty good. Then I saw the line that jutted out of the side entrance of the theater. I walked more, and the line went on, and on, and on... past St. Patrick's Cathedral, around 5th Avenue and back around to nearly the entrance of Radio City Music Hall.
You know what's not sexy about New York City? Waiting in a line for an hour and a half all dressed up for a big event, and not knowing if you'll get in. I wasn't even dressed up, but there were tons of groups of girlfriends that were. Many a strappy sandal and cute summer dress turned the corner at 51st St. There were sexy single ladies, a few couples, bands of twenty-something girlfriends ... even some Cougars in evening gowns (which was weird). We were all lined up looking like we were waiting for a gala event. If I had a dime for every person who walked by and asked "What's this line for?" I'd have a pile of dollars.
My favorite part of the waiting was when a man with uber fuzzy eyebrows, wearing a massive fanny pack, and with a hot-pink sticker that read "Vibrator.com" on his shirt, walked at a snail's pace towards me and then asked if I had an extra ticket. Then he asked me what the line was for. Before I could answer, he said with the self-assurance of a sage, "The line is so long, it must be for something religious."
I wondered if he was right. To the girly-girl-hopeless-romantic-fashionistas of New York, was this a religious experience? Well, if this was heaven, then I got shooed away at the pearly gates. Ten minutes later a security guard yelled out that the seats were full. The line had only moved about 100 feet the whole time we waited.
So, I go home to my computer to see how fabulous Sarah Jessica Parker looked at the premiere. Apparently, it was a dazzling Nina Ricci gown. Apparently, the fabulous four ladies walked down a pink carpet covered in 10,000 Swarovski crystals. But I didn't see that either.
The New York Daily News ran a piece about how pissed fans were at last night's premiere -- 2,000 were turned away. The article highlights how some even paid $500 for a ticket and didn't get in. Yikes. That's more than embarrassing, that's just wrong.