I know, I know. This clearly does not qualify as abroad, although considering I live on the East Coast, it may as well be. Since I don’t have a blog entitled, Domestic Adventures: Culture shock from all over the States, this one adopted the orphan post.

So my friend and I caught a lucky break and got to attend the Red Carpet Arrivals @ the Prime Time Emmy’s this past September. It was cool. It was fun. It was all that. But there was a catch. The procedure we had to go through was like something out of the Twilight Zone. For starters, we had to get up really early on a Sunday morning and get dressed up. The coveted seats were on a first come, first get basis for all 200 ticket holders, and since the die-hards camp out before daybreak it’s not the time to dick around having Sunday brunch. After arriving at the designated spot on the USC campus we stood in the sun waiting to be herded with the masses to the sacred locale (The Shrine Auditorium) across the street. Where we waited. Some more. In the sun. After several hours on our feet in the heat we were at last deposited under a sanctuary of shade where we then sat in rows of uncomfortable seats crammed sardine-style among the many other celebrity-worshipers.

Thinking that sitting was going to be a welcome relief, I was disheartened to discover just how little time is necessary to develop a painful case of bleacher butt; it was the one and only time in my life I have wished for more junk in the trunk. I know I shouldn’t have, but at that moment I sinfully envied the few individuals that were hoarding all of the cushion, if you know what I mean. As we patiently sat as one big congregation I continued to remind myself that I would be rewarded for this later.

Admittedly, the initial novelty of watching the behind-the-scenes activity involved in airing the live footage for the many networks covering the Emmy’s was relatively entertaining; I certainly can’t deny an element of intoxication in the air. Yet, there was an abundance of celebrities, paparazzi, and crew members, so it’s quite possible the aura of intoxication had nothing to do with a level of excitement. On a positive note, we the congregation were provided with refreshments and a goody tote nearly brimming with what I suspect were the same effects given to the stars. The contents included (and were limited to) an OK! magazine, an Emmy’s ball cap & t-shirt, Maybelline mascara, AND (hold on…..let me build some suspense): a bag of chips. As if witnessing this star-studded event wasn’t enough, I was privileged to receive, first-hand, a gift so special that a phrase in its honor has been popularly coined. The expression I’m referring to obviously originates from this red carpet event, whereby the audience gets all that the stars do and a bag of chips. Cool Ranch Doritos to be specific.

One by one, the stars eventually began trickling in to make their way down the red carpet. Some were friendlier than others, and I was disappointed that Steve Carell was the least personable. To his credit, he did arrive and enter the Shrine Auditorium in the same manner as the rest of the garden variety stars. For some celebs (one in particular) were simply too famous for all the fuss and had to be privately escorted through a hidden trap door. It’s actually quite understandable, as in all likelihood Mr. Baldwin would have been recognized and, chances are, ended up in the tabloids–again. Of the oodles of celebrities on site (Dr. McDreamy, Kevin Bacon, Michelle Pfiefer, to name a few), Alec knew he would have shone brighter than the rest causing unfair press and attention, and was therefore unable to walk the red carpet due to the unfortunate curse of super-stardom that has befallen him.

All in all, I am glad I had this experience to add to my collective memories, yet once has been enough to serve that purpose. Being an unseasoned bleacher creature, I saw many things for the first time that day, but none of them as odd as the moment the paparazzi standing about 3 feet in front of me unexpectedly turned and snapped my picture with his mammoth camera. Although his objective is still unclear, I am fairly confidant that exclusive shot didn’t score any front covers.