Back in 2000, I was a 12-year-old uber-wrestling dweeb. I had the posters, action figures, VHS videos; any WWE (then the WWF) offering from my local Wal-Mart, I was spending my allowance on or planning on buying. One day I noticed there a sign stating Mick Foley and Hardcore Holly would be doing an autograph signing in the toy aisle of the aforementioned Wal-Mart. My heart skipped a beat as Mankind/Mick Foley was not only my all-time favorite wrestler but also a guy I aspired to be like (I really like red flannel). His autobiographies were among the first "grown up" books I had ever read and his story of hardship coming up through the independent ranks and onto the WWE championship had inspired me someday pursue becoming a professional wrestler myself.
I waited a shade over two months for the big day. I barely slept the night before and the internal debate over those 60+ days was whether to wear my Mankind shirt or my WWE Attitude shirt (as to not offend the other person at the signing, the wrestler formally known as Sparky Plugg). I eventually settled on my Mankind shirt as a way of hopefully attracting a little more attention from the "hardcore legend". When we arrived, there were about 150 other wrestling fans that arrived before us. Some in the front of the line had even slept overnight beside Wal-Mart's front door for the opportunity to be the first people to shake hands with and spend a few moments with the wrestlers. Undeterred, we got in line and began to wait. My mother (who is NOT a professional wrestling fan) was gracious enough to spend the three hours in line with me. Keep in mind, that this was a time before smart-phones so my mother had to spend those 180+ minutes reading soup labels and staring at what had become a shytshow of heavyset and pimply faced wrestling dweebs in their best wrestling shirts (other than Mankind shirts, I mostly saw Stone Cold, Sable and Hardy Boyzzz tees).
We finally got near the front of the line. My mother, who at this point was bored to tears and complaining that her feet hurt, had told me several times to speak up when introducing myself to the "wrestling men" and smile for the pic she was going to take. I only could shake my head as I had already played the entire scenario out in my head a million times in the months leading to this encounter.
I began walking toward these massive men sitting at a white table with black and red Sharpies, and I went completely blank. Holly was closest and was the first to introduce himself. He could tell I was nervous and a little intimidated and told me not to worry. He asked for my name and asked what grade I was in. Through my peripheral vision, I could see my mother mouth the words "thank you so much" to Holly. The thing is, I wasn't nervous about meeting Bob Holly. I mean, I was, but that was nothing compared to meeting my idol.
I shuffled over to the left and there I was: standing in front of my hero, Mick Foley. I had already been trained by my mother to stick out my hand for a shake so I nervously stuck my hand out. But nothing happened. Mick didn't grab my hand and make nice with me like Hardcore Holly. Instead he leered over at my mother (who was standing over my left shoulder) and made no attempt to cover up that he was obviously disrobing her with his eyes. He says to her "Cute kid. Was his father too busy to bring him here or ...?" I didn't realize it at the time but Mick Foley was hitting on my mother.
I vividly remember my mother snapping back that my father was a staff sergeant and he was temporarily on leave. I didn't understand her dissonance but I did note that Mick did not make eye contact with me one time during our 30-second interaction. He signed his 8x10 without breaking eye contact with my mother, who was quite obviously peeved now. Mick finishes signing the 8x10 but not before he whispers something to one of their handlers. He silently hands me the photograph and I make my way around the table to take my picture. In a haze, the picture was taken (I forgot to smile) and afterwards we started our trek back to the car.
Before we could get to the Camry, a bald man with a ponytail runs up to us. He hands my mother a business card. When we got inside the car, my mother reads the card out loud and shows me the card. It read "Lonely? Mick" along with a phone number. My 12-year-old brain still did comprehend. That is when my mother spoke to me as an adult for the first time ever. She explained that Mick was looking to "go out on a date" with her. It didn't register until years later the Mick Foley wanted to bone my mom but what I still find eerie/humorous is that Mick signed the note to my mother with his trademark smiley face. He didn't even do that for my 8x10!!
mode 
you just knew he wanted bone melinato me. Dude sounded like a creative writing major.
at the Virgil stories
i woulda wilded out like a muuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuhfukkka like we bought to get drunk with the Mach homies!!