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In this edition I:
1. Observe and learn the proper method of swiping the metro card.
2. I take some photos of the theater marquee proving that I can take an incredibly dull photo of an exciting event and I seize the opportunity to take a photo of the red carpet area which looks lonely and forlorn when not bedecked with movie stars.
3. I nearly lose my press pass twice and I become emotionally attached to the above nearly lost press pass.
4. I learn not to be so stupid as to take a cab.

I was running late on my way into the film festival. I wanted to, was determined to see Boy A and it looked like I wouldn’t’ make it. Against my better judgment I decide to take a cab instead of the subway followed by walking cross town. I like walking in the city. It’s just a great place to walk. But I feared not making it to the film. The cab got me as far as 14^th street and fifth avenue before I left it stuck in traffic and walked to the theater on 2^nd avenue and 12^th street. As I walked into the theater I was asked for my press pass. It was buried in my bag. I’m struggling to get it free while the big bouncer sized guys at the door say:

“It’s stuck?”
“Yes”
“Can you get it?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. It’s stuck?”
“Yes.”
“But you can get it.”
“YES…”

Finally it is free and I flash it and run in so someone else can look at it. Then I finally get to the table to check in.

“Boy A?”
“Your pass?”
“Sure.”
“Film School Rejects. I LOVE that name.”
“Thank you.”
“Boy A?”
“It’s a unique name.”
“Thank you. Boy A?” Interlude where check in person stops to talk to another check in person.

“BOY A” starting in like two minutes.

“Oh, Theater 2, downstairs.”

I run downstairs and am almost to Theater 2 when I realize I’m wearing a nice purple press pass holder, but no press pass is dangling from it. I turn and there is at the bottom of the staircase. I retrieve it and get on line. One of the film publicists takes my name, email and phone number so she can follow up to see what I thought of the film. Right at the door to the theater a festival volunteer takes info for the pass. Finally I’m in and ready for the movie which is pretty full. My review will be done soon!

I realize that I am becoming addicted to my press credentials. I wave them and doors open, angels sing and clouds part. It’s heady stuff. I can go to the press head quarters and get bottles of water, work on Macs, watch movies if I want, pick up press kits and even get Target bulls eye dog animal crackers which come in a silly little dog house box that you know makes you look like an idiot. It’s addictive to have people say “Press?” To which you reply with a cool knowing nod “Yes.” And they let you in to the movies. I’m afraid it won’t work at my local multiplex.

I have a camera with me and decide to take some photos. There aren’t any movie stars but I take a picture of the red carpet area which has no red carpet without the movie stars. It looks kind of tired and sad but I’m sure perks up considerably when the star power arrives.

As I descend into the subway I carefully observe the swiping methods of more experienced commuters. It’s a fluid motion where you don’t really stop at all but swipe and walk. I do think it’s risky especially for men who might walk into the turnstile and that could end in a bad bad way. But I’m not a guy and I’m brave and also the entrance on 14^th street has those metal revolving doors that look like they were designed from plans originally drawn during the Spanish Inquisition.

I swipe and it says go! YAY! I did it. But then I walk into the second opening in the revolving door that looks like a torture device or giant cheese slicer stops cold and the little message is:

“Please swipe again.”

I do the fluid swipe and get the “Go”. This time I use the correct part of the door. I wish I could just flash my press pass.