When I was in 6th grade, Ted Kennedy shook my hand. He was running for president at the time, but I was more interested in one of my classmates who had just sprouted a pair of boobs, who was standing next to what I learned later was Ted's brothers grave.
In 2000, Eddie Vedder pointed out a shirt I was wearing to a crowd of probably around 30,000 people. The shirt said "Nader For President" (Special note to Al Gore: I'm sorry.......so so sorry. You have no idea how sorry.)
Those experiences pale in comparison to tonight though, when I filled a prescription for an honest to God famous person. HIPPA privacy laws work against me here, but I'm surprised there weren't paparazzi around trying to get a picture of famous cellulite to make the trailer trash feel better about themselves. While I was counting and pouring and licking and sticking, I thought of what might happen if I "accidentally" filled the Rx with some sort of poison. Sure I would most likely end up in jail, but my immortality would be secured as the answer to a trivia question. If I played my cards right, maybe I could end up with some sort of book deal. Then I would be famous! ME! People would be looking at ME when I went to the drugstore!
Fortunately for me, and the famous person, I saw where this cycle was headed, and meekly handed over a bottle of 30 hydroxyzine to a personal assistant.