Not many people can say that Emma Watson was among their first memories.
I can't totally say it either, since I was already nine when I first met her. But that was among the first memories of my real life, nonetheless.
Before then, me and my parents lived anonymously in America, while my father worked on movie crews. Yet when he got himself on the crew of something called "Harry Potter" in 1999, we lived anonymously in England. And unlike other kids settling into a new home, I got to visit a huge movie set in the meantime.
It didn't escape me that the three kids starring in this thing were about my age. Including the girl with the bushy brown hair.
While meeting that little girl was one of my first memories of England, it was too long ago to remember specific details. The gist of what I remember is that she was nice to me, and it helped me feel more secure in this strange set land. And it was pleasant enough for her to keep talking to me when I visited the set of the next seven sequels.
After over a decade, everyone on the Harry Potter series was finally out of a job -- my father included. By the time the final film came out in America, I had finished college in London, leaving myself in need of a job as well. But I couldn't find anything for the next several months -- yet had saved enough money to fly to America in spring 2012.
I needed some time away to clear my head -- whether visiting my first home for the first time in 13 years would help or not. I arrived in Los Angeles in early March 2012, eager to see the sights although I was the furthest thing from star struck. After all, I somewhat knew certain stars before they were famous.
In fact, someone walked down the street that kind of looked like one of them. It was a young woman, so that narrowed down who it might be.
She was wearing sunglasses, so I couldn't tell if she had the star's distinctive brown eyes. Her hair was a little long, or at least longer than when the star famously cut it two years ago. She had a white shirt and a medium sized skirt that still showed off a trim, lovely figure -- but I couldn't say for sure if it matched up to the star's figure.
I got those thoughts out of my head and did the one thing that would solve the mystery -- talk to her. "Excuse me?" I asked as the young woman was going by.
She stopped, so it seemed she'd be polite enough to answer -- and if she answered in a sweet English accent, I'd have my own answer.
"Robert? Is that you?" she answered. Well, the accent was only the second biggest giveaway.
Once I shook off my shock to smile at her, Emma Watson broke into a bigger smile and added an all too brief hug. "What are you doing back here?" she asked afterwards.
"I haven't been back here in this century. This is more your home than mine," I pointed out. "I'm just passing through here. Are you doing the same? And who's filming you in the meantime?"
"Sofia Coppola, actually," Emma answered. "I get to play with and pretend to steal starlet's accessories for research. I just came out of an exhausting session now."
I resisted the urge to joke about what Hermione Granger would say about stealing. At least one person would in front of Emma. "Are you already shooting? I'm here for the week, so if you are...." I hinted.
"Damn, it's next week, actually," Emma sighed, which disappointed me despite her amusing cursing. "Maybe I can get you a pass into the pre-production. Your father did it all the time, how hard can it be?"
"You don't have to find out on my account," I assured, halfway to be nice.
"Nonsense. With everything you've seen, you could probably teach the regular crew a thing or two," Emma commented. "Wait, are you actually in the....family business?"
"No. Not in any business at the moment," I admitted before I knew any better.
"Really?" Emma wondered. I supposed if I'd made myself look like a bum already, there was no point in not going all the way.
"Yeah, I don't have anything in the non-movie world yet. Just here on vacation to forget about it, but I guess that's hit a snag," I said with unplanned sarcasm.
"We trusted you and your father on one of the biggest film sets ever, and no other employees trust you?" Emma recapped. "Seems a might peculiar, doesn't it?"
"I've told myself that, trust me," I semi-joked, less eager to talk about me at the moment. But Emma hadn't hit her limit.
"You're really sure you're not interested in being a crewman?" Emma asked. "I could....ask around and see if something's available on the movie. There'd be a bunch of technicalities to get through, but we could take care of all that."
"Whoh, who said....whoh," I stammered. "You can't just offer me a job. I have no experience. And I'm technically a foreigner."
"You had 10 years to observe how the job is done. And you come from a pretty solid legacy, and you already have an in with the star. Jobs have been secured here with far less," Emma joked. "Really, just tell me where you're staying, and I'll get back to you with any updates."
I was half incredulous that I was even talking to Emma, half overwhelmed to actually get a job offer, and 90 percent in disbelief that this was serious. "Well, I mean, if you have spare time," I gave my permission.
I gave her my motel address, and exchanged more contact information and a few other words before she took her leave. I watched in awe, both from the situation and on how she was walking away from me in those heels.
But this was surreal enough without me secretly checking her out -- as if my small but long history with her didn't make it creepy enough. Still, nothing would come out of that, just as nothing would come out of her supposed talk with her new movie crew.
So when Emma visited my motel two days later and told me I had an interview to be part of "The Bling Ring" crew, I really should have seen the rest coming.
At that moment, however, I was just overwhelmed by the good fortune up to that point. It continued when Emma stuck around and we actually kept talking.
