The moment I nearly played leap frog with a movie star.

Off the back of the fact this story – of my humiliation – is apparently “hilarious”, I thought I’d better write about it as quickly and painlessly as possible (like ripping off a plaster.) It’s taken a week to get over it – but now I’m ready.

So I’m on the BAFTA red carpet.

It is bedlam.

From what I’d seen on TV I thought these affairs were rather formal calm events. Nothing can prepare you for the heightened atmosphere, the deafening noise and screaming of the press, papparazzi and autograph hunters either side of the carpet vying for the attention of the A list as they come down the carpet. It’s hard to think straight (my excuse and I’m sticking to it.)

There are also a hell of a lot more people who jump out of cars and walk down the carpet than you think. It all happens so fast and there’s so much commotion – you can start to see what a hazardous journey trying to get from one end to the other might be…

First there’s the whole getting out of the way thing so you think you could stick to the sides of the carpet. But then there’s the whole issue of not blocking a photograph being taken or preventing someone who’s camped out for two days in the freezing cold from getting an autograph. It’s a tactical nightmare.

So you kind of end up in an “every man for himself” sort of situation.

As I darted my way through the obstacles I came across the really awkward situation.

Brad Pitt being interviewed by the BBC.

From previous experience there is nothing big nor clever about being spotted in the background of an interview, especially when looking ever so tired, grumpy and stressed. (Exhibit A)

So I decided to just duck behind Bradders and did what I can only describe as a ‘comedy scuttle’.

Sadly – little did I know that Brad had just finished his interview and had turned round to walk away, and ended up walking into my back and practically folded over upon impact like he was going to go over the other side (oh god…!)

“WOAH!” Brad yelped as he – luckily – regained his balance.

I – did what any typically British person does who is hunched over in a ball underneath Brad Pitt – turned the colour of the carpet, popped back up, squeaked “I’m terribly sorry!” and ran away on tip toes as discreetly and quickly as possible.


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