The case of a celebrity's purple track jacket

When I agreed to help out a friend and shoot an interview for Emerson's WEBN Emmys show, I realized that it was going to be my first experience with Hollywood. The girl that we were interviewing use to be a dancer on Dancing with the Stars. My friend was going to interview her and I was going to set up the camera and shoot it. I wasn't even sure how to work the camera but I needed to fake it since my friend said that we were not suppose to let these people know that we were students. "Just tell them we are from WEBN in Boston. They don't know that we are still in college." Wonderful, I thought to myself. How would I act like a professional when I didn't even know how to use the freaking camera? 


Chelsea, the dancer who we were interviewing, agreed to let us film the interview at her house that sat on top of Beverly Hills. If you haven't driven up Beverly Hills then I highly suggest you should but just let someone else drive you. Tiny, curvy roads with huge, gorgeous houses is kind of a bad combo since looking at these houses while driving is impossible without plummeting to your death down the mountain side. 


Once we arrived at the house we introduce ourselves to Chelsea and her manager. I guess I would have been star struck if I had watched Dancing with the Stars before and knew everything about the dancers, but I didn't thus I wasn't nervous when talking to this girl. I was more nervous about not blowing our cover as students. As we moved into the living room I started to set up the camera and tripod. While doing this I tried to maintain a professional conversation with the dancing star and her manager. 


As I take the tripod out of of the case I noticed that the tripod is wrapped in every different type of Emerson purple shirt one could own. I nudge my friend and gesture to all the clothing stuffed in the case. He whispers that they forgot to take out all those shirts after the plane ride. I quickly pull out the piles and piles of Emerson t-shirts and place them by the coach, which now looks like we brought a pile of our dirty laundry. Real professional, I know.


After I figure out how the camera works, I strap the mic on Chelsea. "Here take this," Chelsea says as she unzips her purple track jacket and gives it to her manager who is sitting on the coach. I place the mic onto her glitter covered tank top and we are good to go. As my friend interviewed Chelsea for the next half an hour and realized that she was the definition of a Hollywood B-lister. Long, fake blond hair extensions, overly tanned body, and that high pitched. Don't get me wrong though, she was a nice girl and did have some interesting stuff to say. I guess if I was a Hollywood B-lister and could afford blonde extensions I'd go for it. It's not until one is a Hollywood A-lister when they can afford the fake boobs I don't know if I would go for that though.


Right after the interview finishes, Chelsea whips out her guitar and begins to sing for us. Five minutes into listening to her high pitched voice squeal out notes, things began to feel a little awkward as we just stood there and watched. I discreetly began to pack up the camera and tripod. I go to the coach and start to stuff all the clothes back into the tripod bag, with my eyes still fixed on the singing blonde. When the pile of laundry is back in the case I try to zip it up but of course it won't zip.


My friend comes over to help me and as he unzips it a little he notices a purple track jacket buried in the bag. "Christine," he whispers. My eyes are still politely on Chelsea who is at this point is singing a song about shoes. "I think this is Chelsea's," he said. I look down and see him holding the purple sleeve of the track jacket. "Shit, well get it out," I whisper. Since accidentally stealing this girl's track jacket would look highly unprofessional, we yank out the jacket before Chelsea or her manager notices. We throw it back down by the coach and quickly leave.


Overall, my first encounter with a celeb is somewhat of an embarrassing fail. But it could have ended a lot worse. My encounters with the Hollywood world can only get better from here. Right?