Congratulations to MontuckyDude for sharing his celebrity encounter
As the toothy, spectacle wearing, late night show titan ends his three decade long reign on the boob tube I thought it may be appropriate to share my one and only David Letterman story.
It was the late 90’s and I was driving down two-lane blacktop in central Montana bored out of my mind after an hour of watching nothing but rolling prairie farmland. I’ve had to pee for the last half hour and figure a pit stop would be a great way to break the monotony of my drive. I see a crusty gas station up ahead, glance down at my gas gauge and see a top up of petro would not be a bad idea. I pull into the gas station, hook the hose to my pickup, and start the pumping process. After I have determined the gas is going where it needs to I began to survey my dismal, dusty surroundings.
Standing at the pump next to me, doing exactly the same thing is David Letterman. Now Dave is one of those famous folks that is easily recognizable. I am not sure he could blend in with the common folk if he tried. He is tall and with his trademark glasses it was obvious that it was the late night, funny guy.
Now I have to admit I am not easily star struck. Montana is full of stars. One thing I believe stars like about Montana other than the scenery is the lack of paparazzi. Plus most Montanans really could not care less about famous people. In fact in the pretty parts of Montana it is actually quite common to see famous people. But out here on the barren, wind swept prairie I was quite shocked!
I also have to admit I have probably never watched an entire episode of the David Letterman show. Sure Dave is funny, but late night shows are not really my thing.
So Dave finishes gassing and heads into the dungy station. I finish my pumping a couple minutes later and follow him into the small store seeking a desperately needed bathroom. Hearing the gas flow into my pickup’s tank had not helped things with my bladder at all.
Perhaps five minutes elapses and I honestly did not try to make the logistics work out, but I end up in line behind Dave. Dave is paying for his large, takeaway coffee and without even thinking about it, I look the cashier right in the eye and state, “You better check this guy’s back pocket, I think he is trying to steal a Hershey Bar!”
The cashier gives me a dead stare and if I could have read his mind I am sure it would have went something like shut the hell up dude!
Dave turns around and flashes me his famous toothy grin, grabs his coffee and walks out of the store.
As I am checking out the cashier tells me that Dave has a big ranch on the eastern side of the Rocky Mountains and stops into this gas station often for the coffee. I quickly survey the run down store for the hidden, Seattle based, coffee bar I had missed on my initial walk through and see nothing grander than some drip coffee in a pot. In fact I don’t even see any creamer or sugar.
As I walk outside to my pickup I literally watch Dave drive away into the sunset.