In the future everyone will be famous for 15 minutes.
“The plane! I see it!”
Okay, it is a private jet. A Learjet 60XR, brand spanking shiny new, and it is definitely on the approach to the Atlanta airport. Los Angeles airport, LAX was booked, so they had to hold the event in Atlanta, Georgia this time. Hundreds of adoring fans and hangers-on crowded the tarmac as the Learjet approached and the engines gradually powered down. The former US Navy pilot made no effort to taxi towards the airport but merely turned around in a circuitous route towards the mob gathered at the end of the runway.
The marching band filed out, four abreast, playing the Beatles song, “Yellow Submarine”, and spelling out a cursive capital letter “G” for all to see. Flashbulbs popped randomly in the crowd as the most eager onlookers traded in the last of their patience for anticipation and exuberance. Airport security personnel moved the portable stairs near the hatch as it slowly opened. A quiet hush swept over the crowd as they held their collective breath in anticipation. A uniformed member of the official welcoming committee fell over backwards from having locked his knees back, and was quietly carried off and replaced with another of his colleagues and came to attention. He locked his knees back, too.
A man in a very conservative business suit and full wrap-around sunglasses stepped out of the aircraft, looked around, and descended the stairs. He mumbled something into his collar, and two more similarly attired but more muscular men repeated the first man’s entrance. The first bodyguard mumbled something else into his collar.
Finally, the guest-of-honor apparent looked out from the doorway at the top of the stairs. She looked left, paused, then looked right. Carefully, she stepped out onto the platform and the crowd could stand it no longer!
Balloons and doves were released, flash bulbs went off in a gratuitous storm of light, and everyone cheered for all they were worth. Confetti flew everywhere as the lady descended the stairs. She blew kisses and waved in all directions just as a super-sized white limousine pulled up near the Learjet. The replacement member of the welcoming committee on the end fell over backward as she got into the limo. The throng of admiring fans burst forth and chased the car all the way to the gate, screaming and singing loudly and badly all the way.
The car stopped. The crowd caught up, and someone opened the door. Gwen got out of the car, and gushed, “Okay!! Who wants to go next?”