An old friend of mine -- I'm talking way back to elementary school days -- got the chance to attend a taping for tonight's Late Show with David Letterman. And since I, too, got to see Letterman a couple of years ago, I thought I would re-run this post from July 12, 2007 about my adventures in attending the show in a post that was originally entitled Adventures With Linsday Lohan.So, as promised in yesterday’s
Coming Attractions post, I am going to be on
The Late Show with David Letterman tomorrow night.
Yeah, I know, but I promise not to forget about all of you little people when I’m famous. No. Really. I mean it.
Here’s the deal. I went from a little vacation time in Toronto over the weekend to a trip to New York City for a little work related function. I’ve just checked into my hotel – the New York Hilton on 6th Avenue – and I’ve unpacked and I’m roaming the streets. Actually, I’ve kind of meandered over to Broadway and I see the crowd standing outside of Letterman’s studio. It’s about 3:00, so I know that it’s the crowd waiting to go in for the taping of the Monday night show. I take a left and start heading down Broadway to 42nd Street. I’ve walked about 2 blocks when I hear this guy asking if anyone’s interested in
Late Show tickets.
I’m thinking, there’s probably some scam going on, but I’ll bite. The tickets are supposed to be free, so if he starts asking for the credit card, I’ll just split. Instead the guy says that I’ve got to answer a trivia question: “
who is Rupert?” When I say the guy from the Hello Deli, he says that I’ve got a ticket for a show taping tonight.
Now, I’ve just come from the studio, they’re getting ready to tape the thing. So I ask about that. He tells me that Letterman likes his three day weekends, and that to have one this week, he’s taping shows on Monday. The show that I will be attending is to start at 7:00 and it will air on Friday.
I pick up my ticket, and picking up the ticket involves standing in a long line for about half-an-hour. While I’m waiting, there are
Late Show ushers standing outside, keeping order, and telling everybody that though the temp outside is about 100, it’s a nice chilly 52 inside and that we should all bring sweaters or sweatshirts to keep warm.
I haven’t packed any of this, so I hit the CBS store, right next door, and I buy a
Late Show sweatshirt.
I’m told to return at 6:00 and that the seating will be random. So, I return and at 6:00 me and my group are squeezed into the lobby where we’re given all kinds of instructions, like no wolf whistles, no woo-woo’s, that kind of thing, because the microphone’s pick up every noise. We’re seated at about 6:30, and a stand-up comes out to get the crowd warmed a bit, then the band members are introduced one-by-one followed by Paul and the announcer Alan. Then, five minutes before the show starts, Dave comes running out and starts chatting with the crowd.
I’m about six rows back, about 4 seats inside the row, sitting in the section on the band’s side of the stage. Letterman looks around and goes: “Hey, you, in the blue shirt.” Now, my sweatshirt is blue, but I don’t think it’s me, then he says it again, and points in my direction. I look down at my shirt, and he says, “yeah you,” and has me stand up. We chat a bit, and he asks me about the cost of the shirt. I tell him and he makes a big deal about how expensive it is. Then he has the warm-up comic come down into the audience and pay me for the shirt.
So, things are going great. I’ve just talked with Dave, and I’ve gotten a free
Late Show sweatshirt. Then it’s time for the show to start.
Dave comes out and starts in on the monologue. He does some Friday the 13th jokes, then some Harry Potter jokes. Then he’s on about how hot it is in New York. About how it’s so hot that people will do crazy things, like spend $45 bucks for a sweatshirt. As I’m laughing, I notice the monitors overhead and I see that there’s a shot of me up there.
So, I’m going to be on national television on Friday night.
Watch.
Oh, and the guests, besides me, are
Queen Latifah,
Alan Zweibel, and
Smashing Pumpkins.
Oh, as to the Lindsay Lohan reference in the title, one of the ushers with whom we spent time while standing in line, inside and outside, was a dead ringer for
the blond-era Lohan. Except that she wasn’t
Nicole Ritchie skinny, and she didn’t appear to be drunk or high. But she did have freckles.