a dry martoni

some people are just born lucky. the type of people for whom the 2 is just always across the platform at 96th when they’re in a hurry and that wake up without an alarm when it matters. the type that the nevada gaming council does its very best to keep out of vegas.
i am not one of those people. but i wholeheartedly support having lucky friends if it’s at all possible.
i don’t think i’ve ever been to a professional sporting event and seen the team i was rooting for come out on top. when i was 19 i went gambling for the first time, lost five bucks in nickel slots (and that is a LOT of nickels!) and vowed to never go back. and the express train? if i’m running late, it’s running local. but! to my credit, i have never lost a cakewalk and i have fortunate friends. so when a particularly providential pal came into two tickets for the tonys—about three hours before we had to actually be in our seats in the first mezz of radio city—i just laughed in amazement. for about two seconds. then i sprinted to duane reade to buy a new pair of fake eyelashes and a bottled tan.
THE TONYS! how am i supposed to talk about 5,000 people that love musical theater so much they wear sequins on AND off stage (see: krakowski, jane; noni-rose, anika; and kurtz, swoosie) all gathered under the same roof to celebrate the genre?! it was four hours of pretending to be glamorous and important and fancying myself thisclose to being actually on the stage and bemoaning spring awakening’s domination and using pretension to mask giddiness born from nervousness born from oh-my-gosh-bernadette-peters-is-standing-next-to-me and carrying my judith leiber bag like it was necessary without telling anyone that it actually only had my lipgloss and literally nothing else in it because i gave my id and my credit card to my date and had to check my camera at the door.
at some point there’s a voice over in that movie match point where the guy says something to the effect of “i’d rather be lucky than good”. i think i’d rather be good, with a heaping helping of auspicious associates, a seriously stocked closet of sparkly dresses to wear to fabulous functions, and about a million blank thank you cards.