This story comes from an online friend of mine, from a few years back. The local waitress still tells the story…

Keith Richards lives a good part of the year in Weston, CT, next to the town of Westport. There’s a mom-and-pop coffee/donut shop in town. Everybody goes.

One day around opening, like 5:30 a.m., Keith ambles in and orders takeout coffee and donuts. God only knows what he did the previous night, but he was bleary-eyed and dressed in his usual rags outfit. A local sitting at the counter noticed and insisted on paying. “Thanks mate,” said Keith, obviously thinking it was a Stones fan.

The exact same thing happened a week later. Same guy, same thanks from Keith. The owner goes over to the guy after Keith leaves and says something like, “Ya know, he can afford to pay his own way. The Rolling Stones make millions.”

“Ohmigod,” says the customer. “I thought he was homeless.”