I used to be friends with the guy who stood on my corner in the Village (NY) handing out flyers for a jazz club. One evening I said hello as usual and he told me to turn around. A gigantic black gentleman was standing there; they'd been talking. My friend asked if I knew who it was, I didn't, and I didn't like not knowing, as this was clearly a person one would rather not insult. "This is the man who knocked out Mike Tyson in 10 rounds," said my friend. That was impressive, but didn't give me a name. "Wow, that's impressive," I said, shaking the man's hand and feeling like a complete idiot. He seemed vaguely interested in me, probably only because he wasn't used to people being so ignorant. I lamely wished the two a good night and went home. Some time later I learned that it was Buster Douglas, though half the time I try to tell this story I still can't remember his name.
