It was 1981. You were sitting in a bar with a friend and talking about something while drinking beer. "My Sharona" was playing loudly from somewhere on the radio, and you involuntarily danced to a cheerful tune. While you were talking, you noticed a long-haired, curly-haired young guy looking at you playfully and sometimes winking at you when you meet his gaze. At some point, your friend needed to move away, and this stranger immediately took advantage of the situation. He quickly plopped down in your friend's seat, grinned at you and looked into your eyes. "Hey, beautiful!" he said. "Lemme buy you a drink. My name is Robert, by the way, but my name is usually Robbie."