80pts: I’ve worked with enough “famous” or “powerful” people to not get that worked up about meeting them. Sometimes to my detriment.
December 2006. It’s Yahoo!’s Year-End-Party and I’m leading a presentation up on stage as the lead of YEF, the Yahoo! Employee Fund, recognizing some great donor teams and wrapping up the silent auction. On stage with me is this dude named Daughtry. He finished somewhere in the top five on American Idol earlier that year and his eponymous album had dropped a week or two earlier. I was a 10% fanboy since I was a 100% American Idol fanboy and we had a nice light about the Red Hot Chili Peppers while we waited on stage together to give out some awards.
Fast forward to August 2007 and I’m hitting the head between the VMAs and the after-parties. I push through the Men’s door (for some reason it had a couple of stars on it) and as a man on a mission I strode right up to the only open spot on the wall. I started taking care of business and glance over to see that Daughtry is at the urinal next to me. This is a slightly different Daughtry. He was in week 29 at the top of album charts, riding his way to #1 for the year. Violating all dude-bathroom-protocol I said “Dude, you and I awarded an annual ‘Park next to Jerry Yang’ parking spot just 10 months ago at the Yahoo! holiday party!”. Two hands grabbed my shoulders and pulled be back from the bald vocalist at just short of 10,000 miles an hour and a very deep voice suggested I stop talking to Mr. Daughtry and make my way out of the VIP washroom.
I like him less that Dave Grohl.