All the single ladies

A friend, who shall remain nameless, is a fan of, likes, loves, worships Beyonce. Eh, what the heck. She needs a name. We'll call her "Wiggy."

"Wiggy" just returned from New York City. She went with me and our friend Rachael. "Wiggy" had never been on an airplane before so I thought airport security would be the most interesting part of the trip but no. No, no. No, no, no.

Long story short. "Wiggy" discovered Beyonce's NYC apartment address. I may or may not have enabled this...or actually Googled this.

"Wiggy" insisted we "stop by" the building while in the city.

We did.

The chances Beyonce would be home while we were there? Or that she actually lived there? A million to one - easy. We should have purchased lottery tickets.

The incident involved an Escalade, a bodyguard and Beyonce herself. It was something.

For the record, her bodyguard is scary. He's clearly very good at his job!

I am just thankful we weren't arrested. Though I wouldn't be surprised if poor Beyonce has restraining orders out for us...