She was a Superstar and I a simple ticket taker at Circle Star Theater. Ann-Margret kissed me on the cheek in front of her husband Roger Smith,. He didn't object. He was oblivious. Mr. Webb, the theater manager escorted them to their seats half-way across the round theater that sat 3,300 patrons.
During intermission, Ann-Margret, maybe 5' 5" and 110 pounds with fabulous red hair, tapped me on the shoulder from behind. She was alone without her husband, except for a thousand or so theater patrons wandering about.
"Thank you," she said.
"For not slobbering all over me when I kissed you on the cheek."
"My pleasure," I said. "Why did you kiss me?"
Her beautiful gray-green eyes narrowed, her gorgeous red hair glistened under overhead fluorescent lights.
"I kissed you mostly because you're handsome. I appreciate beauty, and I knew you wouldn't object."
"Object? Why would I object?"
She shrugged her delicate shoulders, kissed me on the cheek again, and walked back into the theater. I was in heaven with the sweet lipstick and taste of Ann-Margret on my left cheek.
She had already starred with Elvis Presley in the movie Viva Las Vegas in 1964, and supposedly had a brief affair with him, and she had kissed me, too.