My dad asked me to go down to the lobby of our hotel and get him a newspaper. I got him the wrong paper or the wrong sections or something so he made me go back.
I took my brother Quinn with me, who was just a wee baby at the time.
When I was walking to the elevator I saw a bunch of teenagers getting in and I was like OHHH GREAT I'M AN EMBARRASSING PRE-TEEN. But they were really nice and held the door for me and errthang. The elevator was crowded, though.
I heard a voice. "What floor?"
"7." I think it was 7.
It sounded like Aaron Carter, and I knew he had a concert in the area that weekend so being the optimist that I am, I gave him a second glance. Yes, the pimply greasy boy wearing a t-shirt and flannel pajama pants was, in fact, Aaron Carter the boy wonder.
I stepped out of the elevator, turned back, and said "Are you Aaron Carter?" as the doors were closing. His friend did a dramatic karate kick to keep the door from closing, and Aaron stepped out. He said, "Want a hug?" And hugged me and kissed Quinn on the head (I tell Quinn that's why his hair is red) like he was Prince William or something. We saw him a couple of times again because he was obviously staying in out hotel, and my mom inadvertently photobombed a picture his parents had taken of them on the beach. Good times.