I met Dewey Cox once.
It was in the 90s when he was already an old man. It was at the Indy 500 (he was a big racing fan). He came out of the restroom with his walker and I went up to him & asked him for his autograph. He didn't acknowledge me even though I was standing right next to him. I thought maybe he was hard of hearing (as well as smelling) so I asked him again, louder: "DEWEY, CAN I HAVE YOUR AUTOGRAPH?" He finally looked at me & said "Get that *beep* pen outta my face before I shove it up your ass, you *beep* little *beep* I didn't know what to say as he slowly inched his way past me, dragging his feet as he leaned on his walker. Never meet your heroes.
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