Ringo! Come on man, move it!

A tour manager lost my passport in London and it was a big hassle to get a replacement. It had been a long tour and I really wanted to make the plane in time for Xmas in Australia.
After many complex and tedious machinations, it all boiled down to the fact that I had to be at the Australian High Commission in Covent Garden before they closed and it was already late afternoon.

I leapt into the first available cab and told the driver to step on it. We were making good time until we got to the High Street in Kensington and there was a couple sauntering across the road, causing a bit of a disturbance in the flow.
The driver said something like, "Cor Blimey, That's Ringo Starr over there and 'is Missus, Barbara Bach!"

And so it was. A Beatle in real life.
For some reason I wasn't as amazed as the cabby.
In the same way that some English people expect to see kangaroos hopping through the streets of Sydney, maybe I always expected to see a Beatle walking across a London Street. I mean look at the Abbey Road cover.

No, I was so caught up in my own petty world that I let the auspicious and momentous occasion pass with out due reverence. The Fab Four changed not only my life, but also the course of the whole world. Here was a once in a lifetime opportunity to acknowledge that influence by dint of proximity. I should've crossed myself or bowed, or at least tipped the cap.

What could I have been thinking when I yelled out, " F'Godsake!... Ringo! C'mon man, move it!"