My first of several celebrity sightings came last night at around 6, in the near-empty entrance to the Fleet Center, where I tried but failed to avoid an erratic little man who was accosting people like a drunken hobo. "Hey," my acquaintance whispered. "That's Father Guido!"
Just then, the Ashtabulan masturbator wheeled on me with a wild glint in his eye, and said: "Hey! It really smells in here! Do you know why it smells so bad? Some people say it'sa McDonalds!" I mumbled something neutral about FishMacs, then he moved along.
"He's not really experienced with the whole man-on-the-street thing," explained a half-apologetic clearance-obtainer from (I believe it was) Comedy Central.