While en route Monday from Chicago to San Miguel de Allende, Mexico, my husband and I were standing in a long line waiting to go through immigration at the airport in Monterrey, Mexico.
I saw several guys (a couple of whom were very tall and wearing very tight jeans) get in line behind us.
I see the immigration guy approach one of them and quietly ask for his autograph. The guys are clearly in a rock band but I can't figure out who they are.
"The Keelers," the immigration guy says to me. The Killers???? Right here??? In line??? Behind us???
Some older woman in line asks the lead singer to pose for her with a photo. He smiles and does it. She later confesses to me she has no idea who the Killers are. But she's super excited about her photo.
The line isn't budging, so the immigration guy comes back and discreetly motions for one of the Killers to follow him -- he'll let them go through the line reserved for diplomats and crew (and famous rock stars, apparently).
The band slips off the back of the line and moves into the new one. As they're moving into the fast lane, my husband turns to them and says (in a joking manner), "Hey, you guys are killin' us."
One of them turns back, smiles and says, "That's what we do." Another one of them raises his hand in a wave and says, "Sorry, man." And he wasn't saying it in a jerky way.
I'm one of those people that hates it when other people cut in line. But these guys were acting so normal and down to earth as they waited with the rest of us, I'd let them line jump any day. Posing for photos. Signing autographs. Better yet: not using their rock star clout to demand preferential treatment. The immigration guy offered; they didn't demand. And they were really humble about moving into the diplomat line, too.
Rock on, Killers.