Just another day on the job — and the day Mick Jagger opened the door himself.
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Working at the hotel, you see a lot of celebrities. You talk to them, help them, sometimes just pass them in the hall.
At first, I’ll admit — it was exciting. But after a few months, it stopped being a big deal. You stop seeing the celebrity and just see the person.
One day, dispatch called me over the radio:
“Roberto, we need you to go up to the top suite. Tell his assistant we need to speak with her right away.”
That suite was on the very top floor — the kind of place most people never even see. The celebrity had rented out the entire floor for his crew.
I didn’t even ask who it was. At that point, it was just another call.
So I head up. Knock on the door.
And who opens it? Mick Jagger.
He’s taller than I thought — about 5’11”, super slender, with that calm, unbothered energy that only comes from surviving decades of chaos.
He leans against the side of the doorframe like he’s done it a thousand times before — casual, composed, curious.
I say, “Hey, do you mind if I ask you a quick question?”
He goes, “Yeah, mate, what’s up?”
“I need to talk to your assistant. Dispatch said they need to speak with her right away. Do you mind going to get her for me, please? I’d really appreciate it.”
He nods, “Yeah, sure, mate,” and walks back in.
You can hear that unmistakable voice echoing through the suite as he calls for her.
A few seconds later, he comes back with her and says,
“Here she is.”
I thanked him — “Appreciate it, Mr. Jagger.”
And that was that.
Cool, polite, zero attitude.
Just Mick Jagger — leaning on a doorframe, opening the door, fetching his assistant — like it was any regular Tuesday.
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