The first U2 fans to grab hold of a vantage point on the footpath outside Eason's in Dublin on Saturday were so early that the burly security men dressed in regulation black, chewing regulation Wrigley's, outnumbered them by two to one.
A few hours later, word had it, the flagship store on Dublin's O'Connell Street would play host to all four U2 members, there to sign copies of their new book, U2 by U2. The crowd mustering in the morning drizzle cannot have expected much, for Saturday's party was an exclusive one, limited to the 250 wrist-banded winners of entry tickets given away on radio and online last week. For its part, Eason advised the rest not to waste their time queuing, but placing a front-page ad in the national newspapers, it turns out, is not the way to keep things low-key.
By 11am about 100 people had ignored the advice. The crowd was young and swelled by the dozens of tourists delighted to have come upon the chance of an archetypal Dublin photo-op.
The rumoured hour closing in, the skies taunted the crowd with heavy, slanting rain, and still no one seemed to mind. The throng held firm, eyeing the minutes ticking by on the clock overhead.
Then, just after 12.20, the crowd hoisted its right arms in unison, the signature salute of the digital age. Phones aloft! The black cars pulled up, black boots emerged with a firm splash, and Bono, The Edge, Larry and Adam emerged into the downpour.
If you don't want to know the rest, blink now. The yelling and screaming ushered the four towards the door, where Bono then turned, waved, gave us the two fingers (in reverse) and slipped from view. They were gone. Forty seconds, door to door. The yelling levelled out and left behind it what can only have been the sound of the same, single phrase being uttered in 15 languages in the same instant.
"Is that it?"