the waitress at perkins led us to a table. mom was trailing behind dad, i behind mom, hans behind me. then he poked me. he said, "hannah, look who it is!" i turned around. a couple of tables away, they were there. the all-american rejects. in that moment my heart leaped and i didn't know what else to do but make sure i didn't leave that restaurant without their autographs. so pulling out a little notepad from my bag, i went up to their table and asked, "excuse me, are you guys from the band, the all-american rejects?" i knew they were, of course, because they aren't a group of guys that are hard to identify. but i wasn't sure of what else to say.
tyson ritter said, "yeah, we are." and smiled his crazy-awesome smile.
i got to talk with them forever and ask all the questions i've ever wanted to. i got to tell them how much their music had impacted me. i got to tell them how much i loved to sing. always like i've dreamed of doing.
and finally when i had to go, i told them how much their song move along had helped me through some of the roughest times of my life, and how thankful i was that they wrote it. and tyson ritter started crying.
it was the bestest dream.
with hugs and kisses,