Yes, I think so, too. But it got me thinking. So I wrote the following:
In 1979, shortly after I moved to Los Angeles to go to University, I started attending meetings of The Los Angeles Science Fantasy Society. The person in whose home I was renting a room was on the LASFS board of directors. His name was Ed Finkelstein. Between my first and second visit to LASFS, I went to a party with this house mate, Ed. After we returned from the party, Ed told me that Larry Niven had been at the party. Jeez, guy! Thanks for the heads up!
But Larry Niven was regularly at LASFS meetings, so no big deal.
This same house mate, as you might suspect, had taken me to my first LASFS meeting. The LASFS clubhouse has two buildings: the front building, which (in 1979) had couches for quiet conversation and the library. The back building is the meeting hall where the actual LASFS meeting takes place. When Ed Finkelstein, took me to my first LASFS meeting, he brought me into the front building and then he disappeared without mentioning that there was a back building. No one mentioned that there was a back building. So I sat in the front building, talking to various fans. I had a great time! After we returned from the meeting, Ed told me about the back building. Jeez, guy! Thanks for the heads up!
Between my first and second visit to the LASFS, I went to that party with Ed Finkelstein. At that party, I spoke to Marjii Ellers, the woman who was, at that time, the LASFS Registrar. It is the job of the LASFS Registrar to find guests, introduce them to the club, and show them around. Marjii was quite irate that I had gone to my first LASFS meeting without filling out a "Guest Card". I assured her that the next time that I make a first appearance at the LASFS, I will fill out the damn card.
But back to the original subject:
At a sf convention in the early eighty's, I got onto an elevator with a gentleman. We had a brief, but pleasant conversation. I later figured out that this gentleman was John Brunner. I had read many of John Brunner's novels at that point. I never got to talk to him again.
But actually, I think that my mother might win this "competition". My mother was invited by a young friend of hers to go talk to the young friend's boyfriend, Richard, who was in jail. My mother's young friend thought that her boyfriend needed sympathetic people to talk to while he was in jail. My mother, and her young friend, went to the San Francisco jail to talk to this guy. My mother talked to this guy there in the jail visiting room. My mother gave him her phone number so that this guy could talk to her regularly. After they left, my mother's young friend told my mother that her boyfriend was Richard Ramirez, "the night stalker", who was awaiting trial for the set of murders that he had committed in San Francisco. My mother got several phone calls from Richard before she stopped taking them.