I force my way through the humanity to chat. To my amazement she hands me a ticket. I'm in the main ballroom with a few privileged others. I thank her for the third time and then make a beeline for the nearest bar stand. Somehow the rest of the crowd is now managing to make their way in.
Disgruntled remarks punctuate the air as the crowd converges on the main bar.
I wander, seeking familiar faces for the obligatory schmooze. More rumors circulate regarding Bill Evans and the evening's disorganization. It's well past the time presentations should have begun. Finally, audience attention is drawn to the stage as the band strikes up a tune. The dapper fellow behind the podium is not Bill Evans, or for that matter, anyone recognizable.