better late than ...

My bf was running late.
He wasn't supposed to leave work early, but he thought he could sneak out for us to catch the 5 p.m. taping of The Late Show with David Letterman. Getting tickets wasn't easy. I registered online weeks ago, then got a call saying we were in -- IF I could answer a trivia question about the show. Which I promptly fumbled.
Thankfully, the bf was able to recoup our loss and answered his question correctly.
The truth is, I haven't watched Letterman since I was a kid. My father and I had a few years there when we'd sit up to catch it almost every week night -- one of the perks of having a hippie family that didn't believe in bedtimes.
But all those years of Dave left a mark on me, and it had been a minor goal of mine to see a live taping since I was 9 or 10.
I stood out in the blowing cold waiting for the bf's arrival. He was just two blocks away, but pushed it to the last possible moment for us to make the 4 p.m. cutoff to claim our tickets. Finally, he powered-walked right past me, his face pale white and his nose running. We were going to make it after all.
After showing our IDs, we were given two yellow tickets and instructions to come back in 45 minutes. Doh!
We killed time in the Starbucks across the street and then joined the hordes of people shivering along Broadway. The yellow-and-black jacketed Late Show staff -- mostly awkward kids in their early 20s -- kept the lines orderly, and finally a raspy-voiced redhead with multiple earrings gave a rehearsed monologue to the crowd. It was a heartfelt speech about how important it is that we be an enthusiastic audience, repelte with yells of, "I can't hear you!"
We were told that an opening comic would come out to warm up the audience, and that Dave would be backstage listening to our response, judging if we were a good audience or not. If we were loud and laughed a lot, well, then he just might pull out his best material for us. If not, he'd save it for another night.
I was like, WTF? Are we talking about David Letterman or Santa Claus? He knows if you've been bad or good, so be good for goodness sakes?
The redhead went on to demonstrate the sounds that we were absoltely not to make during the taping. No "woo" sounds of excitement. None. And no "awww" sounds to show pity. She reiterated that above all else, we had to laugh. Lots and lots of laughs. Even if we just think something is borderline funny, laugh anyway. And laugh loud.
The speech ended and we stood in the cold wind for another 15 minutes before finally being escorted into the theater, with more of the Late Show SS clapping and cheering us.
God, I hate forced gaiety.
The theater itself is gorgeous, of course, and the show's actual set is smaller than I expected. It's always like that. Soon enough the show had started. Dave came out, smaller and gray than he seems on TV, and told a few borderline funny jokes for the intro. I found myself laughing harder than I should, which scared me. The crowd completely disregarded their earlier instructions and "woo"ed plenty.
Kirstie Alley plopped her fat ass in Dave's chair and said nothing interesting at all. Dave was kinder than I expected.
The highpoint of the show for me came when Kathleen Edwards peformed, working her powder blue pumps and skinny girl jeans. Dave, meanwhile, sat at his desk with his head down. I'm not sure if he was dozing, reading or praying.
Other than that, the show included a lame stunt segment (dog sledding on 53rd St.) and several digs at The Gates, which were amusing at first but lost their zing quickly.
The show ran like clockwork, with only one retake on Dave's part. We exited the Ed Sullivan Theater back into the freezing wind of Times Square. I was glad to have had the experience, and I'd certainly do it all over again.
But I had a stabbing realization at one point that maybe I was seeing the show too late. Had I caught Letterman on my first trip to NY, back in '95, I would have done backflips over the opportunity. Now, it was fun, but nothing extra special.
As we were leaving, my bf turned to me and said, "Maybe Dave's really not funny after all. Maybe we just laugh because we know we're supposed to laugh."
Maybe so.