Yesterday, I was sitting on a New Jersey Transit train in Penn Station, tired and anxious to get home after a day at work, and I heard a voice talking about the increasingly heated conflict between Israel and Palestine. I couldn't make out full sentences, only a few words, but I heard enough to know that I recognized the voice. It was the voice of Ezra Koenig. I looked slightly behind me out the window of the train, and sure enough, there was the Vampire Weekend frontman standing there in all his preppy glory.
None of it felt real. This man, whose music I had listened to on my family trips to Cape Cod as a tween and whose songs have been in my earbuds on multiple mornings as I walked across Columbia's campus to get to class, was standing just feet away from me. I felt slightly embarrassed asking the singer for a picture right after he was having an intellectual discussion on foreign politics, but this spotting seemed like fate, so I couldn't help myself. I ran out of the train as he walked away and stopped him, saying I was a huge fan and asking him for a selfy, which any true Ezra Koenig fan and loyal Twitter follower would know is the proper spelling of the word. He kindly said yes and threw up a peace sign as I snapped the shot. I said thank you, ran back on the train and instinctively turned on Modern Vampires of the City on my phone, completely shocked by what had just happened.