Friday, December 12, 2003

Untitled #476

Last night the MTV party was pretty uneventful. I danced on top of some light up platform that probably wasn't intended for dancing. I used chopsticks to eat cooked sushi and mushroom tortellini that tasted as if it was filled with sweet potato.

It was so very crowded. It was loud with decent music and there were three shadow dancers that my branded ass could only think of as a live iPod commercial.

I ran into lots of good people I knew among the throngs, and we screamed in each others ears to catch up. Because everything had to be screamed, people got to the point quickly.



I went to the bathroom and ran into a comedian I love who happened to be working with catering. As we chatted two headphone decked women dressed in black frantically radioed for a female EMT. Jen said, "Someone's drunk." I did a sweep of my eyes to see what stall contained the PA on a bender, but no luck.

That's when Jen told me some guy had fallen earlier from the balcony. "How did I miss it", I thought. "Did he live?" is what I asked. She said he was so drunk he probably didn't feel a thing as he was on his cell phone telling someone about it as he was carried away on a stretcher.

All this and I left before 11PM.

Waiting for the subway, I find I'm on the wrong platform and I book light speed to the local track. There are four cops chatting. Two very fat and in uniform and two chunky but cute undercover cops. The undercover cops are relating how they were with Bloomberg on a subway journey. They speak of the secret service that were also there. One fat cop says awestruck, "I've seen those guys, they have their shit together." They go on about the secret service the way actresses I know go on about Emma Thompson, or comedians I know go on about Andres du Bouchet.

Then they get to talking about the Republican convention, and what a mess it'll be. Protesters coming out of the woodwork... from Seattle, even. Still, one cop points out how great the money will be, what with all that overtime they'll make. They agreed and this threatened to end the conversation.

One of the undercover cops looks worried. He says very ominously, "Oh but you know it'll be nasty."

What? My hackles went up. Will there be rubber bullets? Horses trampling people? Tear gas? I have great respect for the NYPD, but any hint of planned nastiness and I was ready to send Susan Sarandon packing for a trip to City Hall.

"You know those people. They won't have washed in days. They are going to smell. They are going to smell really really bad. And you know we're the ones who are going to hafta pick 'em up."

At that point I couldn't help but laugh. The undercover guy said, "It's OK, you can laugh. But it's true."

It was so cute.

The RNC at Madison Square Garden: smelly hippies vs. budget busting overtime pay. Tickets are on sale now!