I first met Rob Reiner on a red carpet, back when I was brand new to celebrity journalism and painfully aware of how easily I could embarrass myself.

I was young, underqualified and convinced that everyone around could see straight through me.

The publicist chatter, the flashes, the shuffling reporters clutching recorders and notepads - it all felt overwhelming. 

I was still learning how to stand, how to ask a question without my voice cracking, how to pretend I belonged there.

I was expecting the interview to be no different from the interactions I'd already had with celebrities: Answers in platitudes and their eyes looking anywhere but into mine -ready to walk on and forget about my interview.

Reiner was making his way down the line to promote Alex & Emma, the 2003 romantic comedy he directed, starring Kate Hudson. When he stopped in front of me, my brain short-circuited.

I was standing barely two feet away from an actor I'd grown up watching.

Someone whose face and voice were baked into my childhood television memories. My mind went completely blank. 

Rob Reiner attends the Los Angeles premiere of 'Things Like This'. The Daily Mail's Steve Helling remembers interviewing the Hollywood giant, and being flawed by his humanity 

For a terrifying second, I couldn't even remember his real name. I had to physically stop myself from calling him 'Meathead.'

What came out of my mouth instead was worse.

I stammered out a rambling, awkward question that had nothing to do with the film he was there to promote. 

I remember realizing halfway through that it made no sense, and being unable to stop myself anyway.

He didn't look annoyed. He didn't glance past me toward the next outlet. Instead, he smiled - genuinely amused - and placed a heavy, reassuring hand on my shoulder.

'There's no reason to be nervous,' he said calmly. 'This isn't surgery. Nobody's going to die.'

Then he looked down at the handheld tape recorder clutched in my palm and chuckled.

'Also, your tape recorder isn't rolling,' he added. 'You might want to turn it on before we go any further.'

I wanted the ground to swallow me.

The Daily Mail's Steve Helling was a young journalist when he had an encounter that changed his career... and his life 

But here's the part I've never forgotten. He didn't move on. He didn't wave me away or signal for the next reporter. He stayed.

He showed me how to switch the recorder on. He waited. He walked me through the interview like a patient teacher guiding a nervous student.

When he finally shook my hand and moved down the line, I was left standing there with usable quotes, a working recorder, and the quiet relief of having survived my first real red-carpet moment.