Fully prepared to smell like marshmallows
I just got home from... wait for it... meeting Mariah Freakin' Carey (yes, that is officially her full name now). That's right, six years later, I finally got to tell my Glitter story to the one person who wouldn't laugh in my face (I hoped... and I was right), but more on that in a minute.
So, I get to Macy's around five for an event that's supposed to start at seven, knowing full well that Mariah likes to make an entrance and had to tape Ellen and then some promo interviews first. Though I figured it wouldn't start on time, I thought I should still get in line then to get a good spot... and I was right: there were already about 100 people winding around the store in a line waiting to get her autograph, and there were dozens more off to the side, pretending to shop for leather jackets and underwear while secretly holding cameras poised and ready by their waists.
I got some pictures, mostly from standing behind dozens of other fans (and some lucky shoppers who just happened by at the right time and didn't have anything else to do for the day, so they hung out for a few hours, guarding their coveted front-of-the-barricade position. In retrospect, I didn't have anything else to do today either, and I really should have gotten down there earlier... oh well, next time... next time.)
Long - and I mean long - story short, in line I met some cool people who might (but probably not) be bigger fans than me, and we laughed and reminisced about past concerts and such while we waited. One girl was the one from the Staples Center concert last fall whose baby Mariah named (she was eight months pregnant at the time and had a sign asking for Mariah to name her baby, and she suggested Roy after her recently departed father; the girl chose Jesse Roy in the end). Another woman there named her eleven-year-old daughter Mariah, and she said both her kids grew up listening to Mariah 'cause it's what Mommy liked and had on in the car and in the house. I totally know how that goes! My kids will definitely be dragged with me to concerts and signings just like this one.
So anyway, Mariah came downstairs about half an hour late, and the Macy's people really pushed the line through so you only had a chance to say a few words while she signed her 8x10 (the ad from M) for you. You couldn't bring anything up with you when you met her, so I couldn't get my Glitter CD signed or get her to pose with my book. That would have been the best Celebrities Who Love My Book picture ever! But next time... next time.
I really should have brought her the "Pseudonym" manuscript, but (say it with me: next time... next time). Besides, you had to hand any gifts to the employees, and they'd pass it to her people, but I don't really believe they didn't pick through the good stuff first. I did, however, get to go up to the stage (it felt kind of like a graduation when you cross to get your diploma, though how would I really know, considering I skipped mine?), and I basically gave her the nutshell version: "So I just wanted to tell you, and I waited six years to do so, that I bought the Glitter soundtrack at 8:45 am in the Borders World Trade Center on September 11th."
The Macy's personnel were acting as security, ushering people on and off the stage, and they were pretty much pulling on my arm at this point, but she looked up and stopped signing to ask me what happened. She actually looked really concerned, and it threw me, though I don't know why. I guess I half-expected not to be heard over the screaming of the dozens of fans behind me. So I didn't really know how to answer her; I hadn't expected to have time to say anything else, and I just kind of laughed and made a joke of "Well, I got out." I didn't think I should mention she probably never got her fifteen percent from that CD considering the computers shut down and the cash, if it wasn't swiped off the counter as people ran out, probably burned, too. I did tell her I brought the CD for her to sign, and she said she totally would have if Macy's let her.
She was super sweet and gracious, and she shook my hand as I was led off the stage. I was kind of bummed we couldn't choose the one thing she signed for us, but again: next time... next time. And even with the chaos (paparazzi, cameras from Extra floating around, random fans screaming even more random things, Macy's employees shoving your purse, cell phone, and camera into a giant plastic bag and holding it for you while you walked across the stage), I couldn't help but notice, as I watched all of those frazzled employees run around with Walkie Talkies, quite possibly for the first time ever, that if I had sucked it up and taken a retail job months ago like my bank account screamed for, I could have been on the front-lines at such an event. But again, I guess all I can say is: next time... next time. (Danielle Turchiano - Mariah Daily Journal)
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