OT: the strangest/most bizarre encounters of your life

One time in 2005, I thought I saw a defensive coordinator call an all out linebacker blitz with the score tied on 3rd and 4 from their 35 with a minute to go in the 4th quarter against an all-run team on Homecoming.  
 

And then I woke up and it was all a dream…. Or was it?

Prediction: At least a few readers are going to conduct a WWW search with disgusting results.

- - -

EDIT: Here's a strange encounter that came to mind. I'm sure other people have seen this happen.

One morning in Chicago I was riding the outbound CTA Pink Line train. I was leaning against the conductor compartment in one of the middle cars. A guy gets on at 18th Street, sits down, then gets back up as the train starts moving. He says "Excuse me," walks by, opens the door, steps outside, and stops. I'd assumed he wanted to switch cars.

Nope -- he just needed to urinate. It was impressive enough on a moving train because those things sometimes shift sideways quickly. He also had to navigate the curve between 18th and Damen. He nonchalantly stepped inside after he was done.

Ohio State assistant football coach Zach Smith sent a picture of his penis from a White House bathroom among other locales and had more than $2,000 worth of erotic toys, apparel and photo equipment sent to his office at the school in 2015, according to a published report Friday night. 

I was not present BTW.

A drunk lady in Florida saw me sitting with my brother and his family, she said that I look like Paul Rudd. I told her I never heard that. She goes no waaaaaaay that's not right.

I go up to use the restroom and she follows a short time after me. We are both waiting in our lines, and she said, "OMG, there is a guy that looks like you here. Does anyone tell you that you look like Paul Rudd?" I said, "All the time." She said, "Well, can I give almost Paul Rudd a hug." And I did

Strangely, I get asked that I look like someone more now and when I say Paul Rudd they go, "That's it."

Not really an "encounter", but here goes:

In October 2001, I had just graduated from college.  I was back in Detroit.  My brother was living on-campus at Oakland University, I picked him up on a Wednesday night, I needed an extra (fish) for me and my buddies' late-night poker game.

So, anyway, 9:30 at night.  I'm dead sober.  Driving down the rural dark section of M-59 between Rochester and Dequindre toward Utica, I hear a LOUD and DISTINCT voice in my head out of nowhere: "slow down, it's deer season, go 55 instead of 70."  So I did.  30 seconds later, there's a deer carcass in the middle of the right-hand lane.  I swerved left and missed it.  I took a deep breath and was about to pull over to the shoulder and call the police, when in my rear-view mirror I see the car behind me hit the carcass and barrel-roll into the ditch.  Both people in that car died.  The scene was awful and brutal, terrible.

I've never ever heard a voice like that again.  Anytime I think about it - it scares me a bit.  Was an angel looking out for me and my brother?  Or just my intuition that simply "voiced" itself?  If it was the former, why not look out for the other folks?  What was that all about anyway?

One summer in college, I was working in NYC. I was a huge Robert Palmer fan so I went and saw him in concert at Radio City. After the concert, I went to the side door, hoping to spot him as he left. A big black dude came over to me and said, "My name is Cookie. You want to go backstage?" I said of course. He gave me his backstage pass and told me to tell the security guard I was a "secretary with the label." So I walked up to the guy at the door and said, "I'm a secretary with the label." He looked me over and then let 20 year old me inside. I was now backstage, by myself, at Radio City Music Hall. I had no idea where to go but then I heard some voices coming from a staircase. I walked down the stairs and into a room filled with businessmen. I nonchalantly joined the group (all men in suits). I must've looked so out of place but no one questioned me. I spotted Robert Palmer sitting on a couch so I moved towards him, eventually sitting down next to him. He was talking to one of the musicians who played in the Saturday Night Live band (I knew this because that's what they were talking about). Palmer had his young son with him. As soon as the musician walked away, I figured this would be my only chance to talk to him so I said, "Is that your son?" ("Is that your son"????? What a dumb thing to say). He said, "Yes, this is my son." "Oh," I said. And that was it, my big moment with Robert Palmer. A minute later, he got up and left, and left me sitting there on a couch in the bowels of Radio City Music Hall with a bunch of record executives. I eventually got up and walked out. Cookie was waiting for me. I gave him his backstage pass, he asked for my number so that he could give me more info on where Robert Palmer would be for the next couple of days. He actually called me the next day and told me that Palmer was going to a party at some club that night and I could go but I declined. After my brief encounter with him, I knew I would probably keep my distance and have absolutely no story to tell for it. 

Years ago, I was about 18 years old and I was arrested at the border coming back from Canada as a kidnapper and considered "armed and dangerous".

A couple of days earlier I was driving in Detroit and saw an old man chase down a woman and had her down on the sidewalk slapping her.  I knocked him off of her and my girlfriend helped her into my car and we took her home, Woodward & 6 Mile area.  That night when I got home I had a message to call a sergeant at the Detroit PD.  He said that a witness said I had kidnapped a woman that night and called in my license plate.  Two female officers came by and picked me and my gf up and we went back to Woodward and 6 Mile to find the house and the girl to confirm our side of the story.  Fortunately, we found her, and we were cleared, or so we thought until we got to the border couple of days later.

Border Patrol drew their weapons on us, searched us, cuffed us, and took us into some interrogation rooms.  As an 18-year-old kid from suburban Detroit, I didn't really fit the profile of a kidnapper.  Also, luckily I was able to remember the names of the officers that picked us up that night.  After about a half hour we were cleared again.

And now you know, the rest of the story...

Last year at the corner of Fountain and Highland in Hollywood while waiting for the light to turn green, some guy comes jogging by completely naked - not even wearing shoes.  It was about 8PM.