I waited in line for 5 hours at Something About Her, the new ‘Vanderpump Rules’ restaurant, but never even got a sandwich.

But much like “Vanderpump Rules,” the reality show that made Madix and Maloney famous, the opening day of their restaurant was exciting, tumultuous, and full of some surprising friendships.

Something About Her has been 2 years in the making

Maloney and Madix first announced they were joining forces to open a sandwich shop in 2022, joining the growing “Vanderpump” restaurant universe.

SUR, the Lisa Vanderpump establishment that the show once revolved around, is just around the corner from Something About Her in West Hollywood. TomTom — the bar Vanderpump launched with Tom Schwartz and Tom Sandoval, the respective exes of Maloney and Madix — is a four-minute walk away. Schwartz & Sandy’s, the Toms’ acid-dream cocktail lounge, is a 14-minute drive away, while former “Vanderpump” star Jax Taylor’s sports bar is in nearby-ish Studio City.

As with their costars, Maloney and Madix’s journey into the restaurant business is well-documented on the show, which has only become more popular on the heels of “Scandoval.” In the months after it was revealed that Sandoval had cheated on Madix with their costar and friend Raquel Leviss, Madix and Maloney made $200,000 selling Something About Her merchandise. The gigs have been flowing ever since for Madix, who has appeared on “Dancing With the Stars,” played Roxie Hart in “Chicago” on Broadway, and will host the upcoming season of “Love Island USA.”

The busy year has also included permit delays and a chef change at Something About Her, which was expected to launch in 2023. But the jam-packed opening day is clear proof that Madix and Maloney’s star power is stronger than ever.

Fans were willing to wait for Something About Her to open. And once it did, they were sure as hell willing to wait for a sandwich.

Hour 1: Busy from the beginning

I had expected a wait when I arrived at Something About Her, but my heart started to drop into my (very) empty stomach as I saw 100-plus people already lined up. It was just before 11 a.m. — an hour after the restaurant had opened its doors — and Madix and Maloney’s fans were already out in full force. One woman later told me her friend had been the first in line at 8 a.m.

I had vastly underestimated the dedication of Bravo fans.

But spirits were high as I took my place in line and almost immediately began chatting to the women right behind me. I instantly bonded with Kat, who was only in LA for 24 hours on a layover from Australia. A huge “Vanderpump” fan, she couldn’t miss catching opening day — even if it meant skipping some sightseeing in LA. We had no idea we were about to spend the next five hours together.

We slowly inched past the neighboring boutique and hair shop as the line behind us quickly multiplied, curving around the block and reaching as far as SUR (poetic). A sweet server in a black Something About Her shirt and matching combat boots repeatedly walked over to deliver trays of water to everyone. Kat and I happily chatted about “Vanderpump” and its new spin-off “The Valley” with the women around us, and waved as the first TMZ bus drove by.

Hour 2: Spirits still high

The line was barely moving, but no one around me was deterred. We chatted with the woman whose friend had come at 8 a.m. She walked by with her crisp white Something About Her bags, and told us all to get the Viola, the Reese, or the Meg (all nine sandwiches on the menu, which range from $14 to $18, are named after famous women in film).

“They were all really good,” she added, boosting our morale even as she explained that the restaurant’s POS system was down.

The crowd was fueling for the long haul, popping into Alana’s Coffee Roasters next door for caffeine and snacks. By 12:30 p.m. — an hour and a half into my journey — it had completely sold out of pastries.

There were some brief Bravolebrity sightings. Peter Madrigal — who appeared on “Vanderpump” for 10 seasons — waved to fans on his way to work at SUR, where he’s currently a manager. The crowd cheered as Madix came by to throw something away in a dumpster at the back of the restaurant. She waved and thanked everyone for waiting.

“You look amazing,” she told a man who had half of his beard shaved off.

At this point, we were deep into the part of the line that curved into an alley. It was far longer than it had looked. At the two-hour and twenty-minute mark, the smell of hot dogs suddenly filled the air, and I briefly wondered if I was hallucinating.

My group’s hopes were starting to dim as we questioned whether there’d even be enough sandwiches by the time we got to the front. I took a peek at the back of the line, which had significantly dropped off. It seemed people were starting to give up.

But still, we trekked on.

Hours 3-4: Sold-out sandwiches

We had now been in line for the length of an average Martin Scorsese movie. The absurdity was not lost on anyone around me, most of whom had skipped breakfast.

“This is like ‘Survivor,'” one person nearby joked. “Day 50 on the island.”

“It didn’t take me this long to give birth,” added podcaster Sarah Fraser, who had become part of my impromptu line crew. “I had a whole child by now.”

We all discussed what we wished had been done differently. There seemed to be a lot of missed opportunities to turn the opening into an event. Put James Kennedy out there on the decks and distract people! Have your “Vanderpump” costars make guest appearances! Set up a merchandise table outside! Pass out samples!

Nevertheless, it seemed everyone around us was making a valiant effort to entertain themselves. I was touched to see so many people just chatting with each other instead of staring at their phones.

At 2:30 p.m., it was announced the store had sold out of three sandwiches — the Cameron (a trifecta of salami, soppressata, and mortadella with homemade balsamic onion marmalade), the Kate (burrata, tomatoes, and shallots on rustic ciabatta), and the Nancy (a sourdough BLT). A server also revealed that they were no longer offering to-go as an option — you could only dine-in. I assume the decision was made to try to keep up with orders as supplies began to dwindle, but we were still a bit baffled knowing it would slow down the line even more.

As the sun came out and the California heat hit, everyone began taking turns buying water bottles for each other. One girl offered us snacks as she asked, “Is anyone getting hangry?” A third TMZ bus drove by. It had been four hours.

Suddenly, there was a shift in front of us, and a sea of cameras shot up. Madix and Maloney were at the entrance, waving and greeting the cheering crowd. Then Madix started counting down the line, stopping right after us. Everyone else was (kindly) told they wouldn’t be able to get sandwiches that day.

I have to commend Madix and Maloney, who spent over an hour talking to everyone in the large group of people who didn’t make it inside. I saw them snapping pictures, giggling with babies, and truly taking their time to hang with all their fans. Many people left still smiling, excitedly showing each other their selfies with the stars, even as they walked away empty-handed.

Hour 5: Mission Impossible

I have never waited in a line for five hours (or four hours, or three hours, or two hours…) so I wasn’t prepared for the wave of exhaustion that hit me as we entered the final stretch, not yet knowing there was nothing waiting for us at the end. Kat and I prayed that we wouldn’t be stuck with any of the tuna sandwiches and dreamed of the Meg, a veggie Greek-salad sandwich with tzatziki and feta.

We were finally at the entrance and I could see into the restaurant’s large windows, where I spotted Maloney’s mother taking orders and bringing people boxes for their leftovers. We started chatting with one of the staff members working the door, who told us the Cameron had been the most popular sandwich of the day. When we asked why the line had been moving so slowly, she revealed the kitchen was small, and only one of the nine sandwiches was pre-made.

As we predicted, service had also been hampered by the people dining inside the restaurant. She told us that there had been customers who would finish a sandwich at their table and then decide to order more on the spot.

Mere minutes before the clock struck 4, our friend at the door told us the kitchen was closed. I had been just two people away from getting served. My group groaned. We’d officially been there for five hours and wondered why they hadn’t just told us to go home earlier.

They still let us step inside and grab some pastries and chips. I walked through the small but charming 15-seat restaurant, painted in a lovely shade of teal and warmly lit by candelabra chandeliers. People were still finishing up their sandwiches, and one girl told me the Reese was the best chicken-salad sandwich she’d ever had. I grabbed a bag of chips and a pretty solid chocolate-chip cookie.

My five-hour wait had finally come to an end. Was it chaotic? Absolutely. But what stood out to me even more was I had never seen anyone in line get mean or angry. As we walked away from the cheerful yellow and white striped awning, I watched multiple people hug and exchange Instagram handles.

It later struck me how ironic it was that a show centered around tumultuous friendships had peacefully brought so many people together. My stomach was empty, but my glass was half full.

And don’t worry, my sandwich review will still be coming soon.