I guess I'll hijack this thread to relay an encounter with Lynch (sparked by pic's run in with Kaufman):
This happened on Saturday, Sept. 12 - the opening of Lynch's art show at the Griffin in Santa Monica. My friend (shameless plug alert: star of my short film, Autology, now available), her boyfriend, and myself attended the opening of the show. Wall-to-wall hipster douches were there too, looking more like they want to be seen than seeing the artworks. We tour the gallery and take in all paintings, agreeing that we like his paintings more than his photographs (we all went the Sparklehorse gallery a few months prior). She's not an actress or part of the whole Hollywood scene, so she gets a little star struck (got tongue tied when Alfred Molina attended a gathering as part of her work), and I usually play a game with her (think of the bar scene in Kiss, Kiss, Bang, Bang) where I point out people who look like celebs. "Oh, look, there's Shia LaBouf," "Leonard Nimoy," etc. So to my surprise, I'm the one flabbergasted when I see the white hair of the man himself, surrounded by throngs of people. When I told her, I had to preface it with, "I'm being serious. I'm not kidding, but David Lynch is over there." We all saw him and freaked out. We wanted to approach, but what would we say? I didn't want to just say the cliched comments about loving his work, etc. That's what everybody else was kissing his ass about. He seemed very approachable because all the fakers were glad-handing him and waxing his car. Then, she comes up with, "I should just tell him how much I love his coffee." Light bulb goes off. I tell her, "You should. Everybody else is telling him how much they love his paintings and films. Guaranteed no one else will comment on his coffee. He'll remember that." But she's hesitant to. Patricia Arquette and Thomas Jane hug him and talk to him. Roger Corman shakes hands and pictures are taken. Lynch's people start taking him away. If she's going to do it, she'll have to now before he gets away. We follow him out to his car, like we're part of his entourage. On his way towards the door, he's met with a procession of people complimenting him; one man Pakistani asks if he's be to Pakistan. He's at his car now, and he's met by a couple ladies. His car door is open, ready for him to get in. Then... My friend got some balls and actually cut in front of the blonde as she was talking and told him, "I love your coffee and art." The master replied, in his distinguishable voice, "Thanks a million." He was about to get inside his Scion when I shouted out, "Get a picture of you two?" He obliged and posed with her. I shook his hand and thanked him. And like that *poof* he was gone.