go on television!
We had to send someone from our mag to appear on a breakfast show yesterday morning, and it just so happened a colleague and I had ‘pick me pick me’ flashing in bright neon above our heads. Yeah, right.
Okay, so it wasn’t all that bad. We were only expected at 8.45am (which means my bathroom mirror saw me trying to do decent mascara at 8 in the morning) and they fed us yummy coffee right away. While coffee doesn’t do a thing to me, it made my colleague a very happy person for the rest of our time at the tv station. Which was great.
Despite our best efforts to paint our face however, we were still ushered into the makeup room upon arrival to ‘touch-up’. In other words, they gave us more and brighter makeup in the name of harsh camera lights. Then it was on to mike-fitting, where someone mixed things up and everyone thought they’d lost the sponge of their clip-on mike on my colleague’s person. (They didn’t; she checked.)
Then it was on to the set. Commercial break, go on, get comfy, introductions all-round, the fleetest of chit-chats and we were on. Except… they didn’t tell us which camera to look at so we ended up sort of staring at each other or into nothingness. No matter, it was just a simple chat and all over so quick I don’t even remember what questions we were asked. (I know there were at least 3.) We suspect someone forgot about us or we were slotted in at the last minute because of some scheduling changes. Or both.
Then it was ‘thank you for coming’, commercial break, scoot scoot off the set, return their mics while they continue to scratch their heads over the missing sponge, say our goodbyes and leave. The most important parting words had to be those by the sound guy: “If you find our sponge, please bring it back.” Errr, okay.
Just in case you’re wondering, no one saw me on TV. I didn’t tell anyone but Y and he was fast asleep at home throughout. My colleague didn’t tell a soul.
