Awkward Around Actors
Last Friday Clare had a meeting with Katie Holmes in the Polo Lounge at the Beverly Hills Hotel. As far as meetings go, it doesn’t get more Hollywood (unless, of course, you’re meeting her hubby).
Mere mortals would be on the verge of paralysis at the prospect of hanging out with Mrs. Tom Cruise but, ever the professional, Clare took it in her stride.
Clare had no idea what to expect. Would there be an entourage… bodyguards, nannies, stylists, bum wipers (believe me, they exist)? Or would it just be Katie, alone and ready to talk business? Refreshingly, it was the latter. Clare found Katie down to earth, friendly and easy to chat to. I find this remarkable considering the life, I can only imagine, she leads. I mean really!
All was going well until the iced coffees arrived. Somehow, while stirring hers with a straw, Clare managed to flick a solitary drop of milky froth onto Katie’s jet black top. Time stood still as it flew through the air on its date with destiny. Clare was mortified but accidents happen and Katie laughed it off. Divas take note. This is the correct way to behave.
An isolated incident? No. You see, my lovely wife has previous when it comes to clumsy celebrity encounters.
A couple of years back she was introduced to Goldie Hawn at a premiere. They shook hands but as Clare pulled away she somehow managed to get a nail caught in Goldie’s dress… it was some weird crochet number. For a few hideous seconds they were conjoined. On the surface it was all smiles and laughter but lurking beneath both women were desperate for freedom. It eventually came but at a cost. As Clare finally managed to de-tangle herself a few woollen threads came with her. To this day she doesn’t know if Goldie noticed. Nothing was said. She was probably too busy calling security.
I’ve saved perhaps the best till last. It took place in Tom Hanks‘ production offices. Clare was meeting the producer who runs the company but halfway through, the great man himself bounded in with his pet dog. Introductions followed and keen to make a good impression Clare made a fuss of the dog. Stroking what she thought was the dog’s pelt an unexplainable sense of foreboding began to grow. Looking down she realised with horror she was actually caressing Tom’s hand! Once again nothing was said but Clare still laughs (and shudders) at the memory, dining out on it regularly.
At this point I think it’s important to stress that none of these shameful bumblings would ever happen to me. Oh no. I’m always in control. Always!
