My very small brush with Maggie

I have a lot to thank Maggie Thatcher for - my first job in advertising started just after she came to power and my career rode the economic wave of the booming 80's. In 1989 I started my own agency and in 1991 we occupied offices on the top floor of 30 Gresse Street, near Charlotte Street. 

It was mid-morning on a Monday in April and I was popping out to see our client Beefeater Gin in Kennington with art bag in hand. The building didn't have a lift and as I reached the last long flight of stairs to the ground floor, I became aware of several beefy looking guys in suits walking through the front door. Following on behind them was a woman in a bright blue suit and to my amazement I saw it was Maggie Thatcher.  Noticing me, she stopped at the bottom of the stairs and looked directly up at me, fixing me with those penetrating blue eyes. I froze on the top stair like a rabbit caught in the headlights, unsure what to do next. She spoke:

"Come down young man," she said, in slightly irritated fashion, beckoning me with her non-handbag carrying hand, "Don't you know, it's bad luck to pass on the stairs?"

Her command immediately unfroze me and I scuttled down the stairs at top speed as she waited at the bottom. 

"Well done," she said in motherly fashion as I reached the final stair.

And with that she disappeared upwards at full speed with bodyguards in her slipstream.

Not your average start to a Monday morning.