Until Monday, I had never stood in front of a bikini-clad woman and screamed “YOU’RE A MAN!”
Yet there I was, one of 200 people doing just that in Stamford during a taping of the “Maury” show Monday morning.
I’m not really like that.
But at some point, the enthusiasm of an audience hopped up on adrenaline and caffeine gets to you — and you join the mob.
Lured by Connecticut tax incentives, Maury “MoPo” Povich has set up shop in Stamford, taping his show at the Rich Forum. He joins fellow hucksters Jerry Springer and Springer’s bald security guard, who recently got a talk show of his own.
I wasn’t thinking about the mob when I filled out a card to request tickets while at a concert in Stamford last month. I was thinking about the outrageous talk show guests.
Either way, I’ll admit it — I wanted to go.
Last week NBC called and offered me “Maury” tickets for 8 a.m. Monday.
I jumped at the chance, and my brother and I became “Maury” audience members 163 and 164.
By 7:50 a.m., the line to get in wove around the exterior of the building. To get in, audience members passed through a metal detector and had their bags searched. Security is tight, though if you’ve ever seen an episode of “Springer,” you know why.
For a back-to-school-themed special that will be air next month, host Maury Povich took ten women and paraded them in front of the audience in bikinis, cheerleader uniforms and risqué, athletic-themed costumes, inviting the audience to guess whether the “cute college co-eds” in front of them were born male or female.
As we entered the studio, the staff seated us and handed out promotional items –megaphones, pompons and “Maury” pennants. We practiced cheering, going wild each time Maury came out. We also practiced cheers for (a) when the women entered in their skimpy outfits and (b) when they revealed at the end whether they were genetically male or female.
No matter the result, we had to act surprised. In the end, the shock was more genuine than we had anticipated.
I won’t ruin the whole surprise, but a few owned up to having Y chromosomes. The Adam’s apples were dead giveaways on a few, but with others it was a toss-up.
Audience members sitting next to each other, including my brother and I, often had conflicting ideas — and tried to shout each other down.
I was the one in the third row with the promotional red mini “Maury” megaphone, yelling “No dice, Maury, that is definitely a man!” along with the crowd.
As we filed out of the studio after the taping, we were still amazed about who turned out to be what during the “reveals.”
We had been so sure of their sexes.
Now all my brother and I are sure of is that we want to go to another taping.
Aly Shea, a 2009 graduate of the University of Connecticut, is a freelance writer for the Valley Independent Sentinel.
