Flying to Costa Rica from New York is surprisingly easy. It was about two and a half hours to Miami and another two and a half to San Jose. The flight to Miami had a secret bonus. Sitting across the aisle one row ahead of me was Chris Rock. It was funny. Of course it was funny. It was Chris Rock.

It didn’t dawn on me that it was Chris Rock until the end of the flight. He was in the very front row in the first class section in the window seat. He was just another passenger and I didn’t pay any more attention to him than any other passenger although he was sitting in the one section that was clearly visible to me as I sat back in my seat.

He was somewhat in disguise, dressed down so as not to attract attention like most celebrities I have seen traveling in public. It’s a standard ruse. They must learn it from other celebrities. The front row window seat must be the standard placement for celebrities. Maybe he bought the whole row. He certainly had it to himself. He was wearing a duck-billed hat and thick horn rimmed glasses. He looked like he had a couple days growth of beard.

At one point during the flight I subliminally noticed that the passenger bore a resemblance to Chris Rock, but the thought barely emerged onto a conscious level. It was barely even a thought, just a fleeting impulse. “Hmm, that guy looks like Chris Rock,” then gone from consciousness again, replaced by some other random thought.

Then half-way through the flight I went to the lavatory in the front and when I returned, the passenger in the front row was completely covered with some kind of raincoat or something so large it looked like a tarp. It was as if he had disappeared into a tent to get some sleep without being disturbed.

CAUTION: Non-Work-Safe language in the video below (obviously)

It was only when we landed that I realized it was really him. At that moment when the taxiing stops and the seatbelt sign switches off with a “bong!” and the whole cabin population rises simultaneously to its feet, he stood up and looked right at me. For a second we were looking right at each other. I realized for sure that I was looking at Chris Rock, and I smiled affectionately. I do really like Chris Rock, but I didn’t want to be the dopey fan that blows his cover and disturbs his hard-won privacy.

Just beyond the door a small entourage of three people was waiting for him. They greeted him deferentially and escorted him to one of the little vehicles that drives around inside airports beeping at pedestrians in the way. And off they went. I don’t think anyone else even noticed him. His cover held.

Chris Rock. Cool dude! It was a pleasure to see him in person.