J & M (my brother & sister-in-law respectively) were out from NZ for Chrissy. We’d all traveled to NYC for a visit and were on our way back to Cali. M had free miles on United, while J & I were doing the Jet Blue thing. As such we were leaving from different terminals & M was flying out before hand (being on an earlier flight). So prior to heading over to the Jet Blue terminal at JFK we were seeing M off.
The snow had (finally) finished coming down – the air was so clear and crisp – our breath was billowing around our heads in steamy clouds. We’d gotten out of the taxi, bags in tow. As we neared the terminal doors, a black sedan and a black hummer pulled up to the sidewalk in front of the terminal doors.
M was immediately sure it was a celebrity – and wanted to stay out in the zeroish temperature to see just who was flying out from JFK that day. J not being the type to get particularly celebrity struck was not amused by this idea. Myself being somewhat the type to get celebrity struck elected to stand with M to see just who was in the vehicle.
After about 4 minutes, the sedan ejected a couple of very large men who walked back to the hummer, and one opened the door.
“It’s the Duchess of York!” M squealed. She had a better vantage point that I did to see just who was in the vehicle. J was suitably unimpressed and took himself off into the heated terminal. On the other hand M & I were beside ourselves – so we were quite content to wait in the cold until Her Grace alighted from the vehicle.
And what a production that was – from my vantage point I was able to first see a hand extend from the back seat with a purse held out – one of the large men took it and handed it to a smaller guy who’d exited from the other side of the vehicle. He then disappeared to the boot of the vehicale where additional bags were collecting themselves. Next one leg (ending in a very fashionable black boot) swung out, followed by its mate (also in the same fashionable black boot) – and then Sarah, Duchess of York exited the hummer.
I will say this – she is much prettier in person than you’d expect. Really.
The big burly guys were looking at M & me a bit askance, so when Ms. Ferguson was in front of me I said, “May I have your autograph?”
To which Fergie replied, “Yes you may, and it’s so nice to be asked.” I guess crude Americans use "can" rather than "may" - I'm thanking my NZ education at this point.
Now the only bit of paper I had on me was a free post card from Tower Records advertising Rice Krispies – Snap Crackle & Pop. The post card has bubble wrap on one side, for you to pop (snap & crackle) or send I guess.
Sarah turned it over – a look of perplexity across her face. I explained it was the only “paper” I had and offered my (nice) black ink pen. With a slight shake of her head she extended her hand, and thin point sharpe was placed into her open fingers. She didn’t even have to look – the men just knew.
As The Duchess was signing my postcard, M let her know she’d stayed up all night to watch her wedding – and it had inspired hers – and she just thought she was tremendous and a great role model.
Sarah was quite taken and asked if M was from Australia. M politely corrected her letting her know she was from New Zealand. Fergie was most apologetic and mentioned how much she enjoyed visiting New Zealand and wonderful the people were.
During their conversation my postcard had been signed and handed back to me – I think I mentioned that I thought she was fantastic or something equally banal – the pen had been returned to what everplace the security guys secret those things in and then in a whirl wind of commotion they were headed into the terminal. I guess I hadn’t been allowed to use my pen as it may have been poisoned, or I may have tried to hawk it on eBay.
In any event, I had my royally signed postcard.
M & I were quite taken by her service – she hadn’t had to even think about wanting something, the guys had it for her before she’d even had to ask.
As a lark M & I began to play princess (duchess) and server – it soon grew old.
Anyway, we joined J in the heated terminal and breathlessly related out royal experience. J wasn’t impressed, and this being post 9/11 herded both of us to the screening area where we’d need to separate from M.
We saw M up to the checkpoint, where the security guards pulled her aside. That’s when we heard from the VIP line Sarah, Duchess of York shout “Let her through, she harmless, she’s from New Zealand!”
I always knew I liked her.
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