Doru:Yes, please do post a paragraph or two. I think I can speak for most of us here when I say we love original contributions. And if/when you have the story posted on a web site somewhere, please give us the URL.
Helen, aka Imelda II:I hate shoes.

But to each her own

Be that as it may... during the 3 years I lived in NYC (1995-1998) lots of people I knew enjoyed frequent celebrity sightings, perhaps the most common of which was JFK Jr. (may he RIP). I blithely went my way, not seeing anyone even remotely famous, that I knew of, anyway. On my next-to-last night there, a group held a farewell party for me at a sushi-
cum-karaoke dive somewhere around 3rd Ave and 42nd or so. As I was sitting in a window seat, wondering whether I should regale 'em with "What's Love Got to Do with It" or "I Will Survive", a photog friend pointed out a limo that had pulled up at a deli across the street. "It's her" he whispered." "It is not!" I replied. We went downstairs, camera in hand (his) and sure enough, it *was her.
I approached her plethora of bodyguards and asked if it was OK if I approached her. They nodded assent, so I went into the deli (she was choosing from a wide array of DeGaulle's cheeses at that point) and asked if she would mind having her picture taken with me, and told her, straight-faced, even, that I'd always admired her and her shoe collection.
Some people have close encounters with the great and near-great; my only experience was that with a foul despot's widow. Wonder whatever became of her?
Meanwhile, as soon as I have the photographic evidence scanned, I might replace my picture in Max's Gallery with that one.

And y'all get to guess who's who!
Forgive me, I'm not usually given to long non-word posts! Chalk it up to the moving stress....