Yup, there he was, a short guy with short dark hair, maybe around 40 years old, leaning against one of the mirrored walls, not 12 feet away from me, looking lonely.
Paul Simon. All alone. Probably thirsty. Maybe he wouldn’t snub me, I hoped. I grabbed my drinks tray and rushed over to him.
“Er, excuse me, can I get you a drink?”
“Uh, sure. Do you have a Perrier?”
“Will do.” It took me less than a minute to get back to the bar, grab the Perrier, open it, fetch a glass with ice and a wedge of lime. Back to his side, I offered the drink, saying, “Hey, I’m also from Queens, and I’d like to thank you for the music you’ve made because I really like it.”
Simon smiled, accepting the drink, and nodding assent. I didn’t really expect a response other than that, and the music and talking in the background made it really too loud to chat.
But, at least HE was nice. And toward the end of the evening, Colin Blunstone (Ex of the Zombies, another one of my favorite bands), interrupted me, washing glasses at the bar (as usual) to ask me for a stick of gum. He seemed mildly intoxicated, and when people drank & drove, they needed something to mask their breath -- like gum.
Other than looking tipsy, ol’ Colin was nice enough, too. So, at least a few people who made music I admired seemed to be cool. But, at the end of the party, as the crowd thinned out, my last table of drinkers really topped the list of nice celebrities/rockstars I’ve ever met. . .