I don't think you're ready.

A couple of weeks ago we had an email go around at work about some upcoming shows that Beyonce was doing at Roseland Ballroom for which we could request tickets. The shows were billed as An Intimate Night with Beyonce, and given that B is used to selling out arenas like Madison Square Garden, this would be a pretty unique opportunity.

I immediately texted Karrie, knowing that she had been planning to take the bus home to Virginia that weekend but also convinced that she was the perfect guest for this event.

L: So you are like definitely definitely going to VA next week right? Because I just got Beyonce tickets from work for Thursday.
K: Omg. Wait. This changes everything.


Soon after that, her original plans were canceled and we were composing outfit ideas. Karrie's main strategy was to "sparkle like a sexy baby on Toddlers & Tiaras" which, I think, was both wise and appropriate. I briefly considered wearing a sequined vest that I had borrowed from a friend at work, but in the end I just couldn't pull it off.


We got to the venue around the time the doors opened to see a line snaking around the entire city block. Eventually we made it inside, got our VIP wristbands for the mezzanine (perks!), and staked out a pretty great spot with a nice view of the stage. A few minutes before showtime, the peasants down on the floor started making excited noises and pointing their cameras toward the part of the mezzanine near the side of the stage. We squinted through the darkness and Karrie nearly hyperventilated, pointing out the be-headdressed figure of Lady Gaga being escorted to her seat.


Beyonce herself came out around 10pm and did her thing for a solid hour and a half in a sparkly gold minidress (proving that Karrie had the right idea all along). She did little snippets of all the old favorites from Destiny's Child (which took me back to memories of junior high and high school) and then moved on to some of the solo hits before focusing on stuff from her new album.




We sang along and pondered the meaning of "Bootylicious" and danced until our little high-heeled feet felt like they would fall off. And for the record, Gaga was dancing and fist-pumping with the best of them.