The CMA Awards - the Inside Scoop!

The Canadian Marketing Awards were handed out on Friday and yours truly was on hand as a CMA volunteer at the Westin Harbour Castle Conference Centre when It All Went Down.

Read on for the REAL-LIFE STORY of a volunteer who got the TRUE BEHIND-THE-SENES SCOOP…

4:30 pm – I meet in the lobby with all the other volunteers and CMA staff. We congratulate ourselves on how good we all look in our formal wear. I’m wearing a black pleated dress with teal trim I bought for Doug’s brother’s wedding. I have a matching teal rose in my hair. I’m also wearing a sweater because a) you never know if they’re going to pump up the A/C to arctic levels at these things and b) I got a flu shot in one arm and a tetanus shot in the other a few days ago and it looks like I’m diseased.

5 pm – My first duty as a CMA Award Show Volunteer is to guard the doors to the upstairs venue (where dinner will be served later on). Cathy from the CMA tells me that whatever happens we’re not to let anyone go into the dining room yet. I’m on the job! I ask her how far we’re allowed to go to enforce this - a mild beating with a sock full of quarters or can we go the full 007? She laughs uncertainly but doesn’t answer the question. I’m going to assume we should use our best judgement. I’m paired up with Mary, a marketing student and we chat about Other Industry Events We Have Attended. Mary agrees that if someone does try to slip past us, she will hold them down and I will work them over. I’m uneasy about this plan as Mary is about 100 pounds soaking wet. I’m not sure she can hold up her end.

5:30 pm – People are really starting to arrive. We watch them go down the elevator to the reception. A few stragglers have tried to get past us, but they’re mostly looking for the bathroom. After we point them in the right direction, they turn around quite affably and leave. Our mad crowd-control-ninja-skillz are proving to be unnecessary. Pity. We check out what people (women) are wearing. There’s a lot of black and charcoal grey. We see sparkles, spangles and many, many sequins. My dress is so last season! I know this because I bought it at a “Last Season Sale”, so it’s not like it’s a shock. Still, I long for sequins of my own. Sigh…

6 pm – Guarding the upstairs doors. My feet are starting to hurt. Mary is graduated to guarding the downstairs doors. Lucky! No one tries to get past me so my assassination attempts remain at zero.

6:30 pm – Still guarding the upstairs doors. Feet are hurting abominably now. I try smiling and nodding at people, but I stop because they’re giving me queer looks because they can’t figure out if the know me or not and it’s freaking them out.

7 pm – I’ve been relieved by another volunteer! I go down to the actual awards ceremony and sit in the back row. Everyone is having a good time watching the show and plonking away on their Smartphones. The show is very fast-paced and fun. We watch clips of the winning campaigns and people go up and accept their awards. There are no speeches, thank god, or we’d be here until next Tuesday.

7:15 pm – I’m back outside again, but this time I’m guarding the downstairs doors. Promotion! A guy comes up to me and asks if I can “hold this” for fifteen minutes until he gets back. “This” turns out to be a silver CMA award. I say, sure. He takes off. Fellow CMA volunteer Sarah C. was super jealous.

7:30 pm – FEET. ARE. KILLING. ME. Still guarding downstairs door. The euphoria of having upgraded doors is wearing off. Fifteen minutes are up and I’m still holding the silver CMA award that guy gave me.

8 pm – The show is almost over. It’s now my job to assist in handing out magazines. I grab a bunch and brace myself. Am still holding onto silver CMA award. Feet still hurt like I’m stepping on razors.

8:05 pm – The doors open and the crowd stampedes past us, eager to get up to the dining area (and the bar). I hand out magazines. People thank me. I preen like I actually made each and every one of them out of my own belly button lint.

8:10 pm – Everyone has been magazine-ed and there are no more doors to guard. I head upstairs with the unclaimed CMA award. I spot Geoffrey Roche from Lowe Roche chatting with a bunch of people. I freelanced at Lowe Roche a while back on the Audi account and sat next to Geoffrey’s office for four months. Unable to resist, I saunter slowly and casually past him, a confident and carefree smile on my face, with “my” award prominently displayed. My theme music swells in my head (You’re The Best, by Tina Turner). This would probably have been a far sweeter moment if Geoffrey Roche had actually noticed or had any idea who I am. Still, you take your halcyon moments any way you can get them. I reluctantly track down the true owners of the award (Bos) and drop it off at their table.

8:15 pm - I find my own table and sit down thankfully. AHHHH. It’s the best sitting down I’ve ever done. The screaming pain in my arches recedes to a dull roar. Dinner is served and it’s very tasty. Everyone at our table is from the CMA except for Mike Arlotto from Steam Whistle and “Jeff” (if that is his real name) who disappears mysteriously before dinner is served claiming babysitter issues.

9 pm – Start a lovely chat with Mike Arlotto, AKA The Steam Whistle Guy (HI MIKE!). He encourages me to have my first ever Steam Whistle beer, which I enjoy very much. We continue to chat and…

Midnight – Holy crap, look at the time! I tearfully hug Mike good-night, as he has pretty much had to listen to my entire life story, the poor fellow. He’s a good sport about it and does not call security. People are still boogie-ing down on the dance floor, but it’s past my bed time. Time to wrap it up and catch a cab.

1 pm – Home! Doug refuses to give me a foot rub, which is grossly inconsiderate of him. I de-spackle my make-up and go to bed.

Thanks VERY, VERY much to the CMA for a great event! It was a smash! However, I will be sending you my podiatrist’s bill.