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madonna's child

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Is this woman a PLEBAn or what? :D

Just Another Day - With The World's Biggest Rock Star

USA Today, September 16, 2003

Whitney Matheson


Two days ago I met Bono.

Yeah, it was no big deal. I was totally cool about it. We spent an hour in the same room, just three seats down from each other, chatting and laughing and catching up on old times. Nothing to write home about.

In the days before the rock star arrived at the USA TODAY building - he's in town this week discussing the AIDS fight in Africa - I barely thought about him. I mean, he's just a regular guy, you know?

Unlike some people, I didn't rehearse what I was going to say. I'm the kind of woman who figures the right words will come to me in the moment - none of that girly, neurotic nonsense ever does any good. Besides, I had better things to do with my time than dwell on some guy in a band.

And I barely put any thought into my outfit, which may have included a new, ruffled button-down black shirt, a pair of well-worn jeans and some black Chuck Taylors. I'd had a pretty big time at IKEA and Whole Foods the night before, so when the next morning rolled around, I just got out of bed and threw something on.

If this were 1988, back when I was a completely psychotic U2 fan, I might have spent some time daydreaming about this whole experience before it happened. For instance, I'd probably imagine Bono looking me in the eye, losing all ability to speak and, through a series of rapid hand movements, declaring I was the most beautiful creature he'd ever seen in the known world.

But not in this millennium. I hate to sound so square, but as a mature and cool adult, I seem to have lost all ability to fantasize about rich, attractive and exotic celebrities. I guess fame just doesn't impress me anymore.

Bono and his posse were scheduled to arrive at 10 a.m. Since I had quite a bit of work to catch up on, I got to the office three hours early - with no time to spare for staking out Bono's limo or testing out his swivel chair, of course.

When the singer finally entered the room, I didn't think about how short he was in person or how he smelled like the Irish countryside. And when he gave the woman seated across from me a kiss on the cheek, I didn't even come close to having a panic attack, despite what you may hear from the guy standing next to me.

In the end, I decided not to take up too much of Bono's time by offering my own cheek for a kiss. Instead I would offer a simple, sophisticated greeting. After all, the guy had a long day ahead of him - if he kissed every woman in his path, it would put him hours behind schedule.

So I said, "Hi."

His reply: "Nice to meet you." And later, when I looked back on this conversation, I certainly didn't submerge my head in dishwater and call myself a loser.

In case you were wondering, I think Bono was wearing a green army-style cap, green sunglasses, a black V-neck T-shirt, a faded black jacket, black pants, a pair of tennis shoe/boot-type things and a USA TODAY name tag that read, "Mr. Bono."

But don't quote me on that - at the time, it just didn't seem that important. I also barely noticed his stubbly chin, his small hands and the gold pinky ring on his left hand. (Hey, doesn't Bono usually wear a wedding ring? Could this mean I might have a chance at being Mrs. Bono? Would anyone notice if I followed him out of the building and back to his hotel?)

None of these questions ever crossed my mind; nor did I contemplate sneezing to see if Bono would bless me, or screaming, "Encore!" after his question-and-answer session was over.

However, I did cast an evil glance at the hordes of women who emerged after the meeting, CDs and notebooks in hand, prepared to do anything for an autograph. I mean, come on. How old are we here?

Instead of begging for Bono's attention, I stood at the back of the room, arms crossed, and started thinking about my schedule for the rest of the day. This meeting was cool and all, but it had taken up way too much valuable work time.

And speaking of valuable time, before I get back to work today, I just want you to know that I didn't curse the woman who pinned on Bono's name tag, nor did I run to the window to watch him leave the premises.

Most of all, I did not take Bono's drinking glass after everybody had left the room.

I, of course, am way too cool for that.

? Copyright 2003 USA TODAY.
 
madonna's child said:
However, I did cast an evil glance at the hordes of women who emerged after the meeting, CDs and notebooks in hand, prepared to do anything for an autograph. I mean, come on. How old are we here?

Haha, this reminded me of last December in Lincoln. People can be so annoying sometimes. Here we are - Laura, Eep, Lindsay, myself, and a few others - chatting in a completely civil manor with Bono and John Sampson, and within seconds a swarm of greedy shameless fans decend upon him until John has to pull him back. I'm talking about mothers and full grown women pushing and pulling at other people, even kids. I was ashamed to be a Bono-girl. Sometimes I wonder.....

Anyway, enough ranting. Great article! Thanks Emily.
 
Yeah, I want that drinking cup she lifted. ;) My friends would never let me live that down, they already think I'm a stalker. :D
 
She should just admit it, she wanted him! :lol: ;) Nothing uncool about that!
 
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