Then a murmur rippled through the museum. There was a Beatle in the house. The woman giving the looming demonstration asked, "Is that George Harrison?"
"I thought, 'Is there a gas leak in here?' " Biesen said when I phoned. What was wrong with everybody? A Beatle wouldn't be here, in Joliet, without fanfare or protection, in an old green Ford "pre-SUV," not to mention George Harrison is dead.
But then Biesen walked into the gift shop. And that guy looked up and said in that unmistakable English voice, "Well, hello."
"And it was Paul McCartney," she said. "I froze. It was like seeing Bigfoot."
Biesen didn't know then that a guy who looked like this one was spotted at a Springfield Circle K last weekend too. All she knew was that she felt she'd found a lost member of the family.
"The Beatles have been in our psyche forever," she said. "And when you're standing in front of someone who has been a part of your life forever, it's an overwhelming feeling. Warm. Like, 'Finally. Finally, I get to meet you.' "
She wanted to make the moment perfect.
"I really just wanted to be polite," she said.
"No. I really just wanted to lick him and say, 'I love you.' "
She sighed.
"But I kept thinking, the poor guy can't have 10 minutes of being normal. I'm going to give him 10 minutes of being normal."
So she walked away.
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