This story reminds me of something a Simpsons writer said on one of the DVD commentaries. Paraphrasing, he said, of all the people, cultures, ethnicity's, whatever they had made fun of over the years. The Irish were the only ones who never contacted them and complained about it.

The magic "IF," probably not what Stanislavsky was thinking...

I just realized the brilliance of this idea. O.J. could write a whole series, taking unsolved murders and describing how he would have murdered the victims. Bravo, scumbag.

Celebrities I've Waited On.

Celebrity: Robert Plant

Date: 1998

Location: Mity Nice Grill, Chicago

Robert Plant came into my restaurant and sat in my section. I was rather excited, this being the first celebrity I had ever waited on and no minor celeb at that. He was curt, but polite, ordering a salad and coke, meeting my gaze with his own. Our mutual respect was obvious.

"Good choice, that's what I had today."
"Great, uh...thanks."

People began to realize who he was, creating an audible stir throughout the restaurant. One of my tables passed me a hundred, ordering me to pay for Robert's meal with it. Taking some pride in my new position as guest artist/collaborator on Robert's lunch; I told him I had to ask Mr. Plant. He rejected the offer out of hand. He seemed to find it silly. I silently agreed with him. This lunch didn't need guys like him, Robert.

After he had finished his meal and paid, I found myself in the bathroom with him. This being before the days of widespread cell phones, he was using the payphone. Later in the day we found he left his glasses resting on the phone. Trying them on I was a little put off by how dirty they were. How could he see out of these, I asked myself. I wear glasses. A single speck of dust on my lens will drive me insane. His had multiple thumbprints, entire areas light would have trouble passing through. How would I ever listen to "Physical Graffiti" again? He had tipped 20%, but I couldn't shake the feeling that I'd witnessed the dirty side of Rock & Roll.