(Br)Usher with Greatness

Last Friday, on our way home from Atlanta, I found myself one of the last people to get on the plane. As I was standing on the sky bridge, dispassionately preparing to board, I gazed at two guys who walked up at the last minute. One of them looked very familiar.

So I went through my usual "how do I know this guy/girl" routine, where I check my mental rolodex of work acquaintances, college classmates, and random people who are friends of friends. I came up with nothing, but thought certain I'd seen him someplace before.

Suddenly it occured to me who it was. And the place I'd seen him was the Grammy's, magazine covers, and on my iPod. It was USHER.

Oh, friends, that boy is even prettier in person.

I guess he felt me staring, because he looked up at me and realized I recognized him. We had a few seconds of nonverbal communication, with him wondering if the crazy white girl was going to start singing, taking pictures, or just generally busting him on his attempt at flying incognito and me trying to keep from drooling or making a fool of myself.

After a moment of considering whether or not to whip out my camera, I decided that he was entitled to his privacy. So I just smiled. Understanding that I was going to leave him alone and allow him some peace, he flashed that trademark beautiful grin and winked at me.

So yeah, I came home from Atlanta without a picture of Usher and me. Instead I granted him a papparazzi-free flight, and he granted me a private and grateful smile.

I hummed "Confessions" all the way home.