“There’s a twenty-five year waitlist to be audience member at an SNL taping,” they said. “You have a one in a million chance of seeing that show live.”
Then it happened. Three weeks ago, I received an email from NBC titled “RESERVATION.” It said something along the lines of “congratulations … you and your guest won … October 4th … Sarah Silverman and Maroon 5 …” or at least that’s how I remember reading it before I blacked out from shock. So we did it. No second thoughts. I skipped school. My older sister Melanie skipped work and we flew to New York City to see our favorite show since we were kids.
These tickets were won in a lottery NBC does every August. In fact, my sister sent me the link as a total shot in the dark. I sent NBC my contact information – no age, ethnicity or even a photo. The winners receive an email three weeks before the show they were selected for. That’s it. Pure luck. Everyone has a fair shot.
We headed over to 30 Rockefeller on the night of the show, and while we were checking in we were sent to a shorter line than everyone else. At this point, my heart stopped. I knew right then Melanie and I were going to be seated on the floor. I’m pretty convinced that all of the luck for my lifetime was used in this single pop.
I had no idea how quickly a live show hauls ass when it’s show time. Dozens of technical directors and stagehands were running around, ripping sets apart and throwing new ones together in minutes. There were three stages. Around the floor, sets were built for more sketches. Most of the audience didn’t have perfect visibility of every set, so there were screens conveniently set up to watch the real deal as it aired.
As for the cast and guests, and even executive producer Lorne Michaels, they couldn’t have seemed more humble about what they do, always smiling and ready to go. As the stressed stage manager would yell “TEN SECONDS!” they would just laugh and say something like “alright, let’s do this!” I hope none of them saw me as they passed – I was visibly drooling.
If you haven’t seen it yet, watch it now. And if you happen to catch my sister and I for half a second as host Sarah Silverman begins her opening monologue – don’t look too closely. We were probably crying out with pure joy that our childhood fantasy was finally taking life: seeing “Saturday Night Live” LIVE.