Martha, Martha, Martha!

Two Saturdays ago I joined a gaggle of Seattle women (with a few men here and there) to have the chance to meet Martha Stewart.  Okay "meet" isn't the appropriate word, it was more like - be in her presence for a moment.  Apparently Martha adores Sur La Table and she contact the Kirkland (near Seattle) store and informed them that she wanted to arrange a book signing for her newest book, Martha Stewart's Baking Handbook.  This was not your average book signing, Martha had set up some very rigid rules for this particular event.  She would only autograph her newest book, no magazines or memorabilia.  No pictures were allowed to be taken.  As well, we were not allowed to ask Martha to sign anything other than her name.  And most importantly no touching Martha, no eye contact, and do not speak unless spoken to (clearly the last two were a joke, but you get the idea).

 

We arrived at approximately 8:45am and settled in for a long wait, the signing did not start until 11:00am.  The line was already around the block.  Standing behind me was an employee of Sur La Table, apparently even the store employees must wait in line.  It was a chilly morning and a nearby coffee shop decided to profit from our wait.  The shops employees walked up and down the line taking orders, then hand delivering the drinks so no one would have to risk losing their spot.  As I got to chatting with the women around me I learned that Martha would only be autographing books purchased AT Sur La Table.  I of course had not known of this particular rule and had purchase the book the week before at a local bookstore.  What's a girl to do?  My Mom (who accompanied me on this "experience") volunteered to go wait in a separate line to purchase a book from Sur La Table.  Apparently we were expected to show our receipt proof before we'd be allowed into the store.  Surprisingly the store employee standing behind me suggested I just sneak in, but I hadn't driven 90 miles and waited in line for hours to risk entry.  So the wait continued.  I got to talking with a couple girls standing in front of me, they turned out to be sorority girls from the University of Washington decked out in pearls and heels.  People were so concerned with their appearance that the fact that they'd be standing in the cold for a few hours mattered little.  Word spread down the line that we would not be able to hand Martha our books.  First the books would be handed to a store employee who would then hand them over to Miss Martha.  Eventually store employees came by and informed us that we'd be grouped into "teams" of the three.  From each group a team lead would be selected.  The team lead was given a bracelet, if you can believe it, and given the task of collecting everyones books and handing them over to the person who would then give them to Martha.  I was grouped with the sorority girls.  I was not the team lead.  Eventually as it neared eleven the line started to move.  Finally I got up to the door and shockingly no one asked to see my receipt.  So I bought a second copy of her book for NOTHING.  The line slowly wound along the exterior walls of the store.  Finally it was my "teams" turn to enter the room in which Martha sat.  She looked sensational.  Decked out in a shirt the same color as the cover of her book.  She was surrounded by an array of body guards, publicists and other people I assume were store employees.  Our books were handed over and we stepped up to her table.  She informed the sorority girls that she would be having dinner with their University president that evening.  She was busy chatting with them that all I got was a quick glance and a "Hello".  I must say that her skin looked magnificent.  After she signed my book I began to reach for it but it was snatched away from Martha by another woman who then handed it to me (I had momentarily forgotten about the no touching rule).  Oops.