It’s not everyday that I get asked to sign books inside of an airport — much less the Raleigh-Durham International Airport (RDU), which has 10 million visitors per year. But I’ve been asked twice: once this summer and once last week — three days before Christmas, to be exact. I was at Hudson Booksellers, a prime spot in Terminal 2.

If you think people-watching is best at Wal-Mart, think again! Though it’s awful fun when hub-Russ and I do go there on our regular Saturday night date — watching families of ten, or more, filling up buggies faster than you can say “Sam Walton.” I once talked to a friend, Vicky, so long, that someone finally brought us our own air mattresses and pillows. What can I say? It’s a 24-hour store and we probably looked a little bleary eyed, discussing recipes, especially the holiday cocktail weiners that you mix with chili sauce, peach preserves and — something else, something else? Dang! What was it? (That’s why I stood there so long; I kept forgetting the “secret” ingredient.)

But at the bookstore, Russell and I felt like dignitaries. The manager, Buzzy, met us at the airport entrance with his hand-truck, packed our books and then sent us through security. I didn’t mind removing my many silver bangle bracelets to keep the alarm from sounding, but my shoes? Y’all, that floor was C.O.L.D. We cleared for take-off — oops, I mean, security. And then, at the end of the conveyor belt and just beyond the sensor, Alton with NSA, said, “Hello, Ann!” Geez, this was eerie. How did he know my name? I proceeded to smile and say, “Merry Christmas” to the group of three that he was a part of. They all grinned and one woman said she loved my pocketbook. See? Security is/are people, too!

When I commented to Buzzy that it was odd how that man knew my name, he pointed to my large poster, which was lying upright on top of the cases of books. Fair enough.

Since Russell and I are old pros at this airport thing, we knew the drill. We HAVE to stay within Buzzy’s eyesight for the entire signing. He’s responsible for us and our safety (or is that the passenger’s safety?) every moment and I am not kidding! So, you guessed it: when Russell (or I) had to go to the bathroom, Buzzy escorted us, individually, because mother nature does many things, but it does not align our kidney, etc. functions.

Doing a book signing at the airport is unlike any other venue. There’s no readings and there’s no talks — but thank goodness, there’s autographing: “Dear Aunt Ludie, Merry Christmas from your nephew, Bubba. P.S. This ditzy blonde talked me into buying this book. I hope you like it because she said you would.”

I did a lot of hand-selling (but happily, no hand-shaking). And if I say so myself, I did a fair job greeting the masses. Some were rushing to a plane, probably minutes from their departure. Others were returning home and were busy talking on their cell phones. I saw a lot of babies in strollers, young families and older couples (that would be Russell and I) but surprisingly, very few business travelers. I also saw scores of pilots and attendants. But the largest group by far was the NSA employees who seemed to have impromptu meetings, fairly frequently, not unlike a football huddle.

On this particular week, the airport was having many festivities: wine sampling, music, and of course, book signings. Though I didn’t make it to the wine sampling (darn!), when the Razzama Jazz Dixieland Band came strolling by, I stopped them and asked for a photo op. They gladly obliged. And then, out of nowhere, this voice asked if she could sing with the group! Y’all, that voice was me. Not only did they say, “Yes!” they handed me some mariachis. So, there I go, singing, shaking and laughing. I begged Russell to take a photo and although he shook his head and smirked, he complied.

But I saved the best for last: a reporter from WRAL-T.V. approached and asked me about an interview. I NEVER decline a T.V. interview, so I cheerfully said “yes,” with a flashy smile. A lady was buying my “Life is Short” trilogy and we re-enacted the scene. I thanked her, wished her a Merry Christmas and signed the book. Man! I couldn’t wait until the 6:00 news. I told all of my friends and family to watch the news that night.  Uh...I had a MAYBE, two second shot of this: only my hand, the ink pen and the title page. I hope Aunt Ludie hung in there longer with her reading!