U2 tomorrow, and an embarassing story

Yep, I'm going to the U2 concert tomorrow. I'm supermega excited. I'm no groupie, but I have always liked them and the last concert of theirs I went to when I was in college was incredibly fun. Just the whole atmosphere was fun—hearing the music, watching the band perform, seeing the spectacle. It was well worth the ticket price.

The memory from yesteryear is magical, but it also calls to mind a pretty embarrassing story. A couple days before the concert, I was even more excited than I am for this one—giddily excited. We had been blasting U2 as much as we could in my apartment and Bono was on my mind. I was at the grocery store with my sister, in the midst of all the U2 fever, and I saw a man that looked quite a bit like Mr. U2 himself.

I looked a little closer, following him from aisle to aisle, and the more I looked, the more convinced I became: It was Bono. And Bono was at Smith's in Provo. I dragged my sister over to look at him and confirm my suspicions. She was skeptical, wondering what in the world he would be doing there ("Seeing how the locals live . . . or just seeing if he could get away with it," I rationalized). Despite her skepticism, I still could not quell my girlish fancy.

I walked past him and checked out the contents of his cart. I remember noting some sandwich makings, specifically, and it seemed like everything else in there was totally suitable for someone on the road.

I don't know if I REALLY thought it was him or if it was the fear that maybe I would later hear that Bono had been sighted in Provo and I hadn't done anything about it that was driving my fascination with this man. But after making such a big fuss about it and stalking him for several aisles, my sister finally made me go talk to him. I made her come with me, as backup.

I think I started out by asking his name. He said "Gary" in such a way that I was sure he was hiding an accent. His voice sounded weird. (I'm really so ashamed of myself. It seems so silly and juvenile now.) Anyway, I chatted with "Gary" for a few minutes, and then it became apparent that middle-aged "Gary" was a little too flattered by the attention of two 20-year-old girls, so we high-tailed it out of there, giggling all the way.

So I can safely say that it was NOT Bono that day at Smith's. Embarrassed as I am about it now, I'm glad I checked so that I could put my doubts to rest. And who knows, maybe I'll run into him today or even tomorrow and maybe this time at Albertson's.