Ok, not really but kinda.
A few years back your family fave, Billy Idol, came to town. A large group of my friends bought tickets to go see the blonde Brit at the ol' Lady on Brady. It was a pretty good show until Mr. Idol starting playing music from his Christmas album. What?! Billy Idol Christmas music?! In protest, myself and m'lady April decided to walk around, get a drink, whatever, just get away from the holiday tunes.
During our jaunt, we ended up sharing air space with a rather loud, portly man on his cell phone speaking as though he were someone important. Once he hung up, I asked him (in a rather smart-ass way) if he were with the band or something. Turns out he was their bus driver. We all talked for a bit and he ended up swearing up and down, left and right that if we met him near the bus after the show he would introduce us and our other lady friends to Billy himself.
We returned to our friends and immediately told them about our fortune but nobody believed us and nobody was interested in giving the meeting a try...except for me. After the concert, the ladies headed to the buses where HUNDREDS of people were crowding around. The menfolk we came to the show with kept calling us over and over, ready to leave. We were beginning to get mighty discouraged when someone tapped me on the shoulder. It was the bus driver. Apparently we were looking for him on the wrong side of the bus. He had hunted us down and took us riiiiiiiight by Mr. Idol's chariot.
We waited a few more minutes when suddenly, the bus door opened and the short, ripped, blonde wailer appeared and came straight to us. He complimented my sister's and my teeth and then glanced down at my ladies and proclaimed "Those are nice!!!" in his perfect accent. I've never been more proud of my bosom ;) Between the four of us, we had one camera with 1% of battery left which left us with this glorious photo...with the bus driver leering in the background.
Immediately after the photo Billy went wild. With a Sharpie. He signed everything and anything that wouldn't run away. Any article of clothing near him, wallets, purses and I'm pretty sure he would have signed my 'teeth' if I had let him.
Long story short, er, long story longer, when he signed the back of my new but cheap tank top, this is what I ended up with. Chicken scratch. He signed my shirt with it allllll bunched up while standing behind me either before or after that picture was taken.
In a fit of crafting fury one night, I cut off the bottom of the shirt to use as a lining and have since been left with the illegible top and I just can't haven't been able to throw it away. Until now.
I decided that writing about the experience and publicly shaming Billy on his penmanship would be all the documentation I would need of the evening. So now, I can throw away the top half of that shirt that I *swear* was signed by Billy Idol...unless you have any better ideas...