Fame and Frozen Yogurt

As I watched their interactions, my hunger faded. I thought the man looked a lot like my grandpa.

The old truck had been giving us problems. We decided to take it in for service before work one morning, but we had to get a rental car at the airport first—it was the closest location for my partner and me. So off we went, extra-early, so that we could maneuver through the traffic on the roads and the traffic of the business travelers hoofing it through the wide hallways of the terminals, and still get to work on time.

Imagine our annoyance (understatement!) when the truck wouldn't start for us as we tried to leave the airport with the rental car and get to the repair shop! We canceled the car—we couldn’t leave yet, so why pay? We called a towing service, whose dispatcher informed us it would be three or more hours until someone could get to us. We called the new boss to give him the sob story. Then we sank into the uncomfortable smooth gray seats in the hollow-sounding terminal to wait.

Time passed, yet the morning seemed as though it would never end. Frustrated and stomachs rumbling with hunger, we decided to stroll down the halls and tried to focus on people-watching. I noticed a man eating frozen yogurt. He held a small cup in his hand, casually chatting with his companions between bites.

As I watched their interactions, my hunger faded. I thought the man looked a lot like my grandpa. Then I noticed that the group was dressed in identical black jackets. When we looked closer at the red guitar logos on the backs of the jackets, we realized they were tour jackets for B.B. King! I could not believe we were walking past the same gate where this legendary musical genius was waiting!

My partner decided to ask for an autograph. When we approached Mr. King, handing him a scrap of paper and a pen, my cohort voiced our request. He smiled and said it would be no trouble to sign something for us. Then Mr. King asked me to hold his cup of yogurt. He said gently, “Don’t spill it, now!” I laughed quietly, nervously. When he was done, we thanked him and walked toward the doorway to continue our wait.

That meeting was the silver lining of what had been an extra-cloudy day. I wish I had asked him about his songs and his guitars. I wish that we had sat and talked like he was my grandpa, and that we had planned this visit. I wish I had given him some pleasant conversation to remember, even talked of his resemblance to my grandpa or shared my own favorite frozen-yogurt flavors.

While it was a fabulous surprise I will never forget, I know that all I really did was giggle and hold a legend’s frozen-yogurt snack!


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