About 65 years ago, I played chess; so I drove into Santa Monica to see a mighty chess match between Bobby Fischer, perhaps the greatest ever, and Sammy Reshevsky. It took place in the ballroom of a giant hotel (I think), and during a break I headed for the men's room. When I entered it, I found myself alone with Bobby Fischer, who was using one of the ten urinals. He looked young, pale, slight, wearing a nice, loose suit.
I waited until he finished, then went to the same urinal and peed on top of his, making my mark.
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