The 2002 Emmys are over. We all remember that last year the Emmys were postponed. Twice. I don’t remember the 2000 Emmys, I sure as hell have already forgotten this year’s show but the 1999 Emmys will always be unforgettable.
I was sitting at home with a bag of potato chips watching the post-ceremony party coverage. Sarah Jessica Parker and her hubby Matthew Broderick were arriving at Spago for the HBO party. Celebrity after celebrity walked down the red carpet. The media was swarming and it was better than the actual awards.
I can’t adequately explain what happened next or why. I went into my closet and found the Donna Karan gown I had bought on sale a few years prior and never had an occasion to wear. My hair was dirty so I piled it on top of my head with a few hair pins, applied some lipstick, black eyeliner and walked out the door.
In my gown I pulled off the targa top and headed towards Spago. A few blocks away the traffic was backed up…they had closed off a bunch of roads to “non famous vehicles and their drivers.” An SUV full of guys shouted at the blonde gown-wearing girl in the silver Porsche, “hey gorgeous…can you get us into the party?”
Holy shit! That was me. Having reached the police check point the cops stopped the SUV full of guys and told them to get lost, while waving me through the barricades. Seriously folks, I almost peed my pants. One challenge down, two to go.
I relied on my full faux confidence and pulled up to the curb. Three valets scrambled to eagerly open my door; they took my hand and assisted me in getting out of a car I successfully got out of unassisted everyday.
Not even thinking I went right over to the table at the start of the red carpet. The ladies smiled at me and I smiled back,
“I’m Moxie,” I said without a quiver.
“Glad you could join us Moxie. Hmmmm, your name isn’t listed, are you a guest of someone else?”
“Yes, I’m embarrassingly late, look under Jonathan Tsen” Great, I have to make up a name and instead of picking something Jewish and successful sounding I pick that.
“I don’t see his name either. What’s the name of his company?”
“He does PR for one of the HBO shows, but I don’t know the name of the company” I lied.
“What was your name again? Roxie? Maybe I missed it.”
“MOXIE. and I just completed filming a pilot for HBO.”
A tuxedoed security guy complete with headset walks over to me and asks if he can help. So I launch into this diatribe about how I was supposed to meet John here over an hour ago, but my hair and makeup folks were running late and I had to make an appearance at the NBC party first. And how Jon’s listed under his company’s name, which I don’t recall. I said all that without taking a breath.
Calmly, he suggests I wait a few minutes outside here, because he assures me it will be harder to find him inside. So I stand there and people are taking pictures of me while I scan every face for the fictional Jon Tsen.
Five minutes pass, then ten. Mr. Headset walks over to me and touches me gently on the elbow. “Why don’t you go on in, I’m sure he figures you bailed on him for those NBC types.”
And I walk down the red carpet next to some celebrity I recognized but couldn’t name. My heart was pounding, I had been focused so long on the “I’m meeting someone here” that being thrust into this bevy of beautiful people it really hit me. I didn’t know a single person here. I wasn’t meeting anyone.
Camryn Manheim walked by smiled at me and told me I looked beautiful. I told her she did too.
So I head over to the food table thinking I might as well eat. Robert Wuhl was just in front of me. He turned and introduced himself and we started gabbing. I told him I was meeting someone but appear to have been stood up. He suggests that he introduce me to a guy he knows who won an Emmy and was also dateless.
It wasn’t a love connection but he introduced me to loads more famous people and invited me to the after party.
At the end of the night as we were leaving my “date” was tired of holding his Emmy. Oh cry me a river. He asked if I’d carry it out for him on the red carpet. Of course I would! I winked at the security guy who let me in as fans behind the barricades screamed, “we love you!!!” Once again multiple flashes were blinding me as people photographed the mystery woman holding the Emmy. I bet that caused some confusion for the photo editors the following day.
“Huh? Who the f*ck is this?”
Since I was probably the only one who didn’t arrive by limo the valets knew exactly which car to retrieve. We hopped in the Porsche, threw the emmy in the back and sped off to the after party at the Four Seasons.
written by MoxiePowered by Sidelines