Sat next to Carol Channing at a performance of The Glass Menagerie with Maureen Stapleton at the CITS. She did not look up from her playbill at intermission. I assume she just didn't want to deal with people coming up to her. She wore a down to the floor white fur coat of some sort, which really took over part a lot of my seat, but I was cool.
Sat across the aisle from Richard Burton at, of all things, a revival of The Desert Song at the (then) Uris theatre. He was very gracious to all who approached him (I did not, being a super-cool New Yorker).
Sat in front of Warren Beatty at Torch Song Trilogy.
Sat two rows in front of Jack Nicholson at BP Gypsy. Maybe the best. The audience in the orchestra was cool, left him alone. Then just before intermission was about to end, someone from the mezzanine yelled out 'hey, Jack', at which point the audience in the orchestra broke into applause, at which point he stood up and did a comical bow.
Sat directly next to Jackie O at the Met for a performance of the Bolshoi Ballet (Spartacus) many years ago. It was my 10th or 20th anniversary and was a real splurge in a Parterre Box. She sat in the next box, right next to me. Got a lot of eye strain trying to look at her while remaining a cool New Yorker.
Was standing very close to Paul Newman at a City Ballet Gala Performance, and was absolutely shocked at how small he was (but just as handsome as expected). HE was drinking beer out of a can.
Saw Angela Lansbury (5 or 7 rows ahead of us) at Fences. My wife was not as cool...stood near her (her seat was right by the start of the stadium seating at the (then) 46th Street Theatre. My wife loves to tell how a woman finally approached her and said she never made plans for Sunday night because of Murder, She Wrote, to which her response was a very gracious 'thank you so much, dear.'
Saw an early performance of Equus in the 70s; I remember paying $8.00 for a seat in the 8th or so row of the orchestra. Right in front of us were the weirdest trio one could imagine: Andy Warhol, Paulette Goddard and Anita Loos. My wife only recognized Warhol.
Sat behind Jane Seymour (who, at the time, I thought was the most beautiful woman alive) at Les Mis in London, Christmas week 1986. I remember the huge smile she gave me when her fur head band fell on the floor at intermission and I retrieved it for her. I remember her gorgeous smile probably more than I remembered the second act of Les Mis.
Was on the line for the rest room behind Robert Redford at some Neil Simon play in the early 70s (I think it was Plaza Suite). A couple of women came onto the line to ask for his autograph, which he graciously signed.
Yul Brynner (at Follies). I was in standing room. Follies was intermission-less, but he got up from his front of the orchestra seat and walked up the aisle incredibly slowly to I assume visit the rest room. Lots of heads turned.
To show that he has always been an a**-hole, we attended a performance at the Met, which happened to be a gala for about a quarter of the audience. Over 40 years ago, in walk Donald Trump and Ivana (hatchet-faced, but in a gold fairy princess dress) and tit was like the Red Sea parted. People literally moved out of the way, as if they were royalty. I thought it was disgusting then, and I didn't even realize how much worse he would become over the years. HE was always a genius at self-promotion even if he is otherwise special needs.
Saw a performance of The Norman Conquests last time on Broadway. Sigourney Weaver was a few rows in front of me (in the center section). No make-up, looked as patrician as ever. Also saw Jonathan Groff at intermission.
All of those performances were pre the introduction of premium seating, and back when every orchestra seat was pretty much the same price and it paid to get tickets in advance. I rarely sit in seats as good nowadays. Even if I have good seats in the orchestra, they are never in the first 10 rows center or off the center aisle. But I continue to believe that the best seats to a rotten show don't make the show any better and the worst seats to a great show usually result in my loving the show (even if I would rather be a lot closer).