I’ve been to Tesco loads of times. Seriously. I’m not bragging, but I mean loads and loads of times. In fact, I’ve been so many times I know that if you were to live your life sequentially, rather than chronologically, then the time spent in Tesco would take up a 64 day stretch. That’s bonkers really. 64 days. Two summer months and two days. 9 weeks and a day. 92,160 minutes.
But I’d never been with Launch Group. Not for one second.
I am new at Launch Group, coming to the end of my third official week. It’s been great: really cool. What I have particularly responded to, and talked about at home and on the phone to my mother, is the immediate sense of cohesion. I never felt like the ‘work experience’ kid, I never felt like the ‘tea-mule’, rather a legitimate member of Launch Group. Sure, the most inexperienced member, but a member none-the-less.
This sentiment is no better explained than on my second day. I was at home, talking about how much I was enjoying Launch and eating a Solero, when I receive a text asking whether I would like to attend a photo-call in the morning at a nearby Tesco to launch the Together for Trees initiative. I didn’t expect that. It wasn’t necessary to extend a professional olive branch. I was grateful enough, as I should have been, to be on work experience with Launch Group, let alone be allowed to attend official business with our CEO Johnny and an important client. But then again, I have been in Tesco loads, so maybe they have spotted my retail nous. ‘I’d love to’. ‘Great news David, see you at 8am’.
It’s 8am. I enter, what is a very large Tesco near Earl’s Court, and bashfully ask whether a PR event is being hosted. The gentleman didn’t know, but pointed me to an aisle that had been turned in to a “rope bridge or a jungle or something”. I’ll give that a try. I walk down the central reservation, no real jungle in sight, but there is a group of people at the very far end. As I get closer and closer, what unravels is both surprising and charming. The aisle isn’t an aisle any more, it is closer to an installation: lined with looming plants, and a wooden bridge on the floor held together by rope. Two colleagues are being directed by the photographer. I stand, reticent. Not only do I not know how to help, but I don’t know what I could even do to enhance what is an impressive display of PR imagination and implementation. In the meantime, Kevin is still being told to hold the hose higher above Harri’s umbrella while she peers out looking delicately affected by the fake rainfall.
I turn around and am suddenly shaking hands with Ed Stafford. I know of Ed Stafford. It was a real pleasure to meet him, and he put me at an ease I didn’t realise I needed. He gets called to position by the photographer. “Here?”. “Yeah that’s great”. Immediately, and with consummate ease for an explorer not a model, he looks like he is back walking the Amazon. Except for the trolley of food. Although I wouldn’t put it past him to walk the Amazon again with a trolley full of food, that’s for sure.
The photographer is done. I look to my colleagues. “Right, back to the office’. That’s it. This magnum PR event finished. Except of course it isn’t finished. It is just the spark that starts the day’s work.
