It was an odd feeling to be made-up and mic’d and then walk off the set of a TV show.
I had just rushed (on a Citibike, no less) from AP’s studios on 33rd and 10th (for Dutch TV) to midtown. It’s a studio I’m very familiar with (though not the show). I was rushed on and given a seat before it became clear that the subject was not the S.C. police-involved shooting I signed up for, but the Boston Bomber verdict. I’m no lawyer. I wasn’t there. I got nothing to say. Hell, I don’t even care if the guy is given life or death.
You gotta know when to say no. So I wished them well, and they wished me well, and that was that. We weren’t live yet (thank God).
Leaving, I heard a tech guy said into his mic, “we got a dead guest.” That’s a new phrase for me. He then looked at me sheepishly and say, “uh, not literally.”