Last week whilst stumbling along to work on Tuesday, I noticed a ginormous queue in the Trafford Centre, but could not see the start of it, nor the end of it, and couldn’t even tell which way it was going due to people talking amongst other queuers or sat down in order to make their wait more bearable.
I thought back to my activity books as a child, and the activities I would do where I had to trace a line to take the rabbit to the carrot with my pencil, and I thought, I want to see what this carrot is. So I followed the line. I walked past such a varied mix of people, some mothers with buggies and small children, young boys and girls flirting and chattering to each other, dads on their way home from work, teenage girls in brand new Ugg boots, and whole families altogether. The queue was giving nothing away about what these people were actually queueing for. I trailed past them, my imaginary pencil in hand, and followed this line that wound up and down gold bannistered staircases, and along shiny marble floors. Past Faith Shoes, past New Look, past Selfridges, and past a lot of red coated official Trafford Centre personnel who I assume were placed there to keep some order.
Finally, the line burst into some sort of crowd, and they were outside a shop. WH Smiths to be precise. Oooh, a celebrity book signing! And yes, I was right. And not just any old celebrity, oh no. The Trafford Centre had pushed the boat out and got in the amazing Sir David Attenborough. No wonder the queue was so huge, I thought. Anyone within their right mind would want a chance to meet this amazing man who has accomplished so much, and is still doing so.
The following night, whilst stumbling to work, I noticed there was again, a huge queue, but this time it was even bigger and wider, and with more red coated people keeping order all along it.
With excitement, I, once again, followed the queue, although this time, I struggled to do so. It was too wide, and I ended up being diverted around it due to winding barriers to keep people in line (haha – gettit?).
I thought to myself, who could it possibly be tonight to top Sir David Attenborough? What person could people want to meet more than him in this country?
When I reached the bustling and throbbing WH Smith’s, I felt the crowd’s excitement, and felt a part of it, dying to know who it was. And then, there it was, the name of this person who thousands were desperate to meet. I saw the sign on the window that read this:
“Wednesday 20th February 2008 – Katie Price”.
Oh dear.
