So I'm wandering through O'Hare last Saturday morning and I bump into a recognizable, but mysterious face.
For a moment I couldn't figure out who the man was. Dressed in an expensive Italian knit suit that was a reasonable Armani knockoff, the squinting gentleman was a tad harried as he searched for his gate number, but still stopped to say hello.
Bingo. THAT'S why he looked so familiar. Senator Joe Biden was alone and headed for the airport in Newark when he paused to shake hands. No carry-on luggage, no entourage, no Secret Service. Lisa looked over and winced along with the Senator as we male bonded with a word or two while I tried not to squeeze his surprisingly small hand into oblivion. Guy stands maybe 6-1 and has the paw of a 12 year-old. "Friend of yours?" she asked when I returned to hover around her chair. Nah, not really. I explained to whom I had been addressing and she nodded before going back to her book. No harm, no foul. I don't sit around awaiting planes but sort of go into a continuing roam so it's not surprising that when in large airports I happen to run into the rich and famous.
Little fingered Joe, the ultimate politician. Tossed out a million watt smile and a "Great to see ya, have a good flight."
You too, Senator Joe. Sorry about the hand.
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