I can “trump” that, October 2001 just after 9/11, I’m in Barcelona on a golf trip with a group of friends. We are at El Pratt Golf Club and as we walked into the club a very stressed official told us we need to go into the bar and wait for our tee time. We go in there and a Swiss guy say “you guys with the President?” Na, we’re just a few todgers from Ashton. Anyway, a drink later and and me and my mate go to the office to get our handicap certificates which were being faxed from our home GC, Bill Clinton, surrounded by Security walks through the double doors dressed in a Hawaiian shirt, yours truly sticks out his hand and says “pleased to meet you Mr President” he shakes my hand and says “no problem”, his “people” made some dubious hand motions of their own and I was probably half a second away from being shot dead if my motive was anything other than a greeting.