It's 6:55. My friend Nikki and I are sitting in a cab between 6th and 7th Avenue and traffic isn't moving. Julia Roberts' Broadway debut starts at 6:45. Eh, the A-list celebrities that'll be there will be fashionably late — they won't start the show without people in their seats. But wait... we wanna see all the famous people on the red carpet. We tell the cab driver to go die. We jump out and start walking towards the theater because traffic is not moving. Nikki's wearing impossible heels so she's lagging behind me as I sprint towards the theater, which I can recognize before I even see the marquee. There are hundreds of people gathered next to it across the street. There are multi-shot cameras flashing left and right. I'm a little confused because there's such a big crowd — I don't quite know how to get into the theater. "People without tickets move over to the side! If you have a ticket, step down!" Yes! We briefly show the security guard our tickets (which I almost dropped) and he lets us go after a quick, "You'd better not lose that — that's a valuable ticket!"

Crap. We got here too late to see celebs arrive on the red carpet. But ooh! There's Marcia Gay Harden waving to the cameras. We walk inside the theater and they immediately snatch my camera. "Here's your number. Go down to the coat checkroom after the show and they'll give it back to you. Do you have a camera, Miss?" Nikki lies. The aisles and staircases are so crowded we don't even understand how we'll get to our seats. All the people who are seated in the mezzanine (the balcony) are lined up on the staircase staring at the orchestra (main floor) to scout out celebrities. Unfortunately, no one famous was visible, so we decide to take our seats. We walk upstairs, show the guy our tickets, and finally find our seats. "Uh..no! This is J! You're in G!" Whoa, sorr-ee. We move to the right seats (which by the way, were closer to the stage and more center, dumbass).

Suddenly there's a hub-bub in the mezzanine — everyone starts standing up to look down at the main floor. We see no one. Then a heavy-set Indian woman comes up to our row so that she can get in her seat. "Sorry", she says. "Oh, it's okay," Nikki replies, "we're just trying to see famous people."

"I JUST SAW OPRAH!"

"What?!"

"Yeah, on the way up the stairs, I walked by her."

"Where is she sitting?"

"Over on the right a few rows back from the front."

We begin the stalking. I go down to the front of the railing to see her, and get a glimpse of Ms. Winfrey herself next to her entourage of bodyguards and begin silently screaming and freaking out. Two German lesbians ask me who I saw but I can hardly understand them so I pretend I can't hear.