The tickets said "An Evening with Oprah". But what exactly did that mean? Would it be a live version of her talk show? A theatrical revue?
No one seemed to know.
As Oprah herself joked in her opening address: "You honour me when you buy a ticket to Oprah - and you're not even sure what that is."
Such is the power and popularity of Oprah that 11,000 people filled Vector Arena knowing little more than the fact she would be there.
So just what did this evening entail?
Talk. There was a lot of talking. Oprah regularly jokes that she was "a talking child" and she's certainly never grown out of it.
She talked for close to three hours, with no script or autocue, without ever pausing for so much as a glass of water. It was a curious feat to behold.
There were stories about her life, accompanied by photos and old video clips. Stories told with humour and humility that highlighted Oprah's everywoman-ness, while still acknowledging this is OPRAH WINFREY.
There was a great story about her partner Steadman and a goose. And another about imitating Barbara Walters.
This was the evening at its best. Ordinary insights into an extraordinary life and personality.
But then there was the rest of it. When the stories gave way to searching for a greater meaning. Oprah declared she was there to help "turn up the volume" in our lives.
There was talk of sacred trees and a prayer chair. The words authenticity and destiny were repeated at length.
In the words of my Aussie companion, it was all "getting a bit Hillsong".
Talking turned to preaching - complete with schmaltzy piano music and graphics that came straight from a cheap karaoke video.
It was a struggle to concentrate.
At the start of the evening, Oprah shared her impressions of New Zealand, proclaiming we have a "sense of contentment" that she hasn't seen anywhere else.
Perhaps that was the problem. I am too content to need Oprah's life lessons (which ultimately, are just common sense. Don't like your job? Get a new one. Don't like your life? Change it.)
In fact, I suspect that anyone who buys tickets to an evening with Oprah has already figured this stuff out. The people who really need this advice would never think to go.
Next time, I might take a leaf from Oprah's book and give my ticket to someone who really needs it. Someone who's yet to find their authentic self. Or just someone I don't like very much.