The Day I Kicked David Lee Roth’s A**
I was a courier in downtown NYC in the early 90s. One day I had a few drops at One Rockefeller Plaza, and was just finishing up there on the fifth floor when I spotted a guy who looked very familiar. As he got closer walking down the hallway I saw it was none other than rocker David Lee Roth of the band Van Halen. He had this funny duck like heel-toe walk, and he had what I thought might be two bodyguards or assistants on either side of him.
He passed me, his thinning blond mane kind of trailing and bouncing along with his odd walk. I’ve always been a prankster, and was seized with the urge to do a little good hearted miming for a few laughs. So I turned and began following him down the carpet path through some office cubicles. I mimicked his duck walk, bouncing my shoulders up and down in a satirical, exaggerated piston motion, accented with crossing my eyes and hooking my tongue up around the corner of my mouth. It was working because I heard a little tittering and softened laughter from the office workers we were passing. I upped my game by quickening my pace to get really close to him.
As I gained and found myself literally only a few feet behind him, I was struck that the assistants didn’t notice or try to get me to step back. Emboldened I rolled up right behind him and was suddenly impelled to do something I had never done to a human being before – land a hard kick in his a**. I paced my steps to match his, then launched into a soccer powered instep kick right to his a**. It was a perfect, solid connection. Woomf! It was so hard it shocked even myself, and I swear it lifted him a few inches off the ground. He spun around with a sort of dazed look like he couldn’t believe it. Hell, I couldn’t believe it! Then my fight or flight thing kicked in and I started quick stepping backward, comically putting my finger to my lips for added effect. He suddenly snapped out of his deer in the headlights thing and his eyes locked on me like a lion spying his lunch. He sprinted at me, mouth in a teeth gritted grimace that would have killed many small animals. I turned and ran like my life depended on it, and the chase was on.
We zipped in and out of open cubicle spaces, people gasping, yelling at us to stop, knock it off. That guy was fast! I could hear his breathing and sneakers slapping the floor in hot pursuit. A few times I thought he was going to catch me. As I spun around a corner, in a truly Hollywood move I snagged a coffee cart into his path trying to trip him up or slow him down. He smashed into it full on and I heard glass and cups clattering in all directions. A little further away but still onto me he screamed “Motherfuckerrrr!!” which coaxed from me the most bizarre Riddler like laugh I thought I’d lost my own mind.
I ducked into a stairway exit, and started vaulting down the stairwell switchbacks. About four floors down I ducked back into the building and flattened myself against the wall, listening for footfalls in pursuit. None. I lost him. I propped myself up against the wall and caught my breath for a few. Calming my breathing, I started leisurely sauntering my way out of the building, watching for Mr. Roth like a hawk.
I often wonder if he remembers this incident, and has shared it with any friends or family. Dave, if you are reading this, it was all in good fun.
