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.