We can think of at least two people who probably weren't terribly perturbed by the chaotic crush of people at Bebe on Tuesday afternoon: NBA stars Chris Bosh and Ron Artest, who are so tall that they we assume they can just sort of step over anybody in their paths. Bosh brought his fiancée, Adrienne Williams, and Artest toted a white trucker hat and a sports jacket in L.A. Lakers yellow with stripes in what looked like Boston Celtics green. Isn't the attempted union of those uniforms some kind of technical foul in the game of life?
Also technically foul: the experience of attending the show for just about anyone who wasn't escorted in by security with five minutes to go. The line outside was so long, and the entrance so narrow, that it took over an hour just to get inside. The show was slated to start at 6 p.m., but at 6:20 p.m., people who had been in line since 5:15 were still tapping their toes, checking their watches, and stressing about whether getting a seat assignment would happen before or after the apocalypse.
Inside, front-row seats were double-booked, PR people who were asked for help either vanished into thin air or vaguely murmured, "Just sit somewhere else then," and then vanished into thin air, and in the Bosh-Artest neighborhood — where, for a long moment, neither athlete had a seat to call his own — everyone stood around for ten minutes frowning before someone dragged an extra folding chair out from the netherworld backstage so that they could manage to seat all the people they'd invited. The entire place, with only two visible aisles and at what we'd guess was twice its safe capacity, was a fiery death trap waiting to happen. Maybe this accounts for the quizzical facial expressions of everybody in the front row. All we know is, we hope those gift bags came with coupons for free Botox, because we haven't seen that much facial furrowing since our last high-school math test.
Our one consolation was that Bosh and Artest might be able to hurdle the theoretical deadly flames and carry everyone outside to safety, should an enraged standing-room denizen whose feet demanded justice after standing outside for hours decided to torch it. Presumably they would have started with surprise front-row staple Denise Richards, then continued down the line to Kat Deluna and Louise Roe, but we're sure they would've gotten to us eventually. Maybe Artest could snuff out the flames with that infernal jacket. We're pretty sure both fan bases would be glad to see it burned, anyway.