|...I thought "Wow, that guys looks the part all the time." I watched him as he jumped into that cool truck and hoped he would drive past me so I could check out his license plate. The front plate, lo and behold, said 'Alan Jackson' on it. Hmmmm!
As he drove past I was wanting to get his tag number and try to find him on the Internet. I got friends that can do that sort of stuff. I was a little disappointed to see that his plate wasn't one of those vanity plates that said "Chattahoochee" or "Summertime". Actually, it was just a generic plate and I forgot to get the number.
Anyhow, I looked back into the store and around the parking lot and folks were gesturing towards the truck--was that really him? I immediately got on my phone and called Mom because she is a big Alan Jackson fan. I got her voice mail once again because she was at her Sunday evening bingo tournament.
Not to be deterred I called my sister to let her in on the details. She's a REALLY BIG Alan Jackson fan. I went on and on about how I held the door for him. How he nodded in my direction. I mentioned his hat and his white cowboy boots, the fabulous truck and the ripped jeans.
The one factor that made me question whether it was him or not was his height. I'm 5'7" and this guy was barely taller than me. My sister agreed that she thought he was a long drink of water and was about 6'4". No way was this guy that tall.
It sure did look like him. My sister was so excited. Did you get his autograph? Did he have his daughters with him? Don't you live near the Chattahoochee? As we continued to go back and forth about possible conversations that we would've had with Alan had he been able to stay and chat I received a text message from Mom. Check the TV, it said. My sister and I both flipped on the television and there sat the real Alan Jackson at a country music awards show being aired lived from Las Vegas.
Or was it? Maybe, the guy on TV was the impostor?