Harry Potter does too travel by airplane

Last night at about 7:00, I sat in the airport terminal eating a McDonald's sante fe salad and people watching. I love that hour before boarding the airplane. There is just something so great about sitting in the airport and knowing that in a short amount of time you will be home.

I swear to you that while I sat there, an airport personnel called out the name Daniel Radcliffe over the intercom. I waited with bated breath to see if Harry Potter would stroll over to the ticket counter, but he never came. Alas, that is not a very entertaining story to tell. So, I have decided to tweek it a little bit:

Sitting at the airport, comfortably taking about three seats with my oversized carry-ons, I crunched on my zesty-salad peering out at the travelers making their way to their various destinations. I leered at the teenage girls talking in their obtrusive voices and cooed at the tiny baby sleeping in her father's arms.

Then, I noticed him.

At first, he appeared like everyone else, dressed in travel clothes and a bag slung around his body, until I saw what he clutched in his hand. It was unmistakable, though it was only visible for a split second before his hand quickly flicked inside of his coat pocket. He glanced around to see if anyone noticed. Then he saw me, my eyes refusing to look away. I gave him a defiant glance, asking him to prove me wrong. But he didn't. He walked away in the opposite direction, and I continued reading my People magazine, Sexiest Men Alive issue.

A few short minutes later after reading the article on Sexy men of the Supernatural, the same boy sauntered up to me and sat a few chairs away. I couldn't help that my eyes wandered to him every couple of seconds. There was just something so inimitable about his presence. His round glasses sat slipping down on the bridge of his nose and when he went to push them up, he brushed his tousled brown hair to the side, revealing a scar in the middle of his forehead. He caught me staring and quickly fluffed his hair back over his face.

My heart began to race a few beats above its normal pace, and I felt the rush of heat arise in my cheeks as the blood pooled giving rise to a noticeable blush. He grinned nervously at me; I just stared open mouthed back. We sat that away until the plane began to board. I watched him get on with the first-class passengers. And shortly after, I followed. I gazed at everyone aboard the plane, taking in their ordinary faces. When I reached the last row, it was obvious that he was not there.

I took my seat, a bit chagrined and disillusioned. Did I really see whom I thought I saw? It was impossible, but yet... Once the seat belt sign went off, I pulled my computer out of my bag to work on some writing. As the screen transitioned from black to lit-up, a document came into view. It said nothing but three simple words, "Enjoy your flight ~HP."

So there you have it. Last night at the airport, I saw Harry Potter. The unmistakable flash of his wooden wand, the round glasses, the lightning bolt scar, and the magical message. I saw it all because from over the loud-speaker came the name, Daniel Radcliffe.