Confessions of a Struggling Actor

Yesterday we received an email (in strictest confidence) that we were to meet the King of Pop himself, Michael Jackson.  He's in town for the WMAs at Earls Court, but stopped by our offices as part of a PR junket.  But no-one could know in advance due to security.

Originally we laughed at this - a security team to sweep the offices, the diggers in our road had to be moved for his entourage of vehicles - you couldn't make it up!

At 1.45 we were herded into a our coffee area with Michael due to arrive for a Q&A session, award presentation and a photo shoot.  We weren't allowed to leave the room as we waited...and waited...then we were told that he was half an hour away, then the Q&A session was cancelled and craig would just give a quick chat about his achievements, then some quick snaps...then he was trying to lose photographers...we started reading papers, getting bored and making teas and coffee. then he was 3 minutes away, then one minute, then three again, until we heard a bit of a commotion coming from the reception area.  We still couldn't see anything, but then one of my colleagues said he was now in the office and was walking towards us.  We'd been sitting there for over 2 hours, but the excitement suddenly became palpable.

He came into the room to a round of applause, sat down and Craig listed his achievements and presented him with some goodie bags for his kids.  MJ then thanked us, told us how much of a dream it was for him and went for the photos to be done.  We all lined up and got some group shots done.  As we went up for ours, Craig stepped out, leaving me next to him holding his certificate.  Afterwards he shook my hand warmly and thanked me again.  He was much taller than I was expecting and extremely gentle, though he had a good handshake.

As he was leaving we got a glimpse of what it must be like for him day to day.  We looked out the window and there was a mob of papparazzi and fans waiting for him - some with toys for him, some with a banner that I couldn't make out and as he became visible at the bottom of our stairwell, the screaming started.  It took around 5 minutes to get him 5 yards into his car and even once he was in, it took another 5 minutes for them to pull away as fans kept throwing themselves in the way of the door, while his security wrestled them away.  Even as he pulled out, they stood in front of his car, faces contorted in a strange mix of adulation and agony.  They eventually started off, with people running like Olympic sprinters to keep up and then the lights went red and they surrounded the vehicle again.  You felt quite scared for him and his fellow passengers as the car started to rock, but after the lights changed, they were on their way, with the paps in the car behind.

Obviously afterwards, the office was buzzing and as i write this, several have gone down the pub to reflect on the madness that had just ensued.  We should get the photos by the end of the week hopefully, so will email them around then...

To misquote Sir Alex Ferguson, "Entertainment eh, bloody hell!"