I’ve Met Norah Jones

“I always take two cameras and a pen with me each time I leave home,” he said. “I do this because I want to be ready the next time I meet Norah Jones​.”

“You’ve met Norah Jones?” I asked him, incredulously.

“Yes.”

“The Norah Jones?”

“Yes, no other. I sat next to her on a Ceres bus to Dumaguete City a few months ago. She wore a baseball hat and dark glasses. No one recognized her, except me of course. She was alone. I was so stunned that I nearly fainted! But there was no mistaking it, it was really her. I said, “You’re Norah Jones.” And she smiled that sweet, faint smile of hers. “You’re Norah Jones,” I repeated. She asked me, “How did you know?” And I replied, “How could I not know?” She told me to keep my voice down because she wanted to travel anonymously. We talked throughout the trip and I told her how huge a fan I was of her, and how I loved each of her albums, especially the first, and how I adore her voice and music. I could see that she was a bit embarrassed because I knew so many things about her. It was so surreal. We rode on the boat together and we even had dinner together.”

“You sure it was really her and not some impostor?”

“Of course, it was her. It only took me a few seconds to be absolutely certain that it was her. After we ate I asked her for her autograph, but I didn’t have a pen with me. She didn’t have a pen, either. No one in the restaurant had a pen, can you believe that? I didn’t want to go looking for a pen outside because, well, I didn’t want her out of my sight. I took out my camera, but the battery was dead! Can you believe my luck? It almost drove me mad. After a while she said, “I’m sorry, but I have to go. It was really nice meeting you.” I told her that no one will ever believe my story that I once met Norah Jones. She just smiled, said good-bye, and we shook hands.”

I shook my head. “And that was that?”

“That was that. Crazy right?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I said. “Have you told anyone about this?”

“Who would believe me? You do believe me, don’t you? Why would I make this up?” He patted his pocket. True enough, it was bulging. “I have them all right here. I’ll be ready the next time we meet.”

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