My toes too numb to step

I met Bob Dylan when he was 18 or 19 in college. I was in Minnesota prospecting for iron ore on the plains, back before they put roads everywhere. At night I liked to slip out of my heavy ram's wool jacket and wet my whistle at a watering hole. I was walking down the street one night near the college campus and there was Bob with two other guys stumbling around up ahead and drunk off their asses. It was before he got famous, but already he was known around town.

I walked up to him and said, "C'mon Bob let's get you back."

And he said, "Get the hell away from me," so I hung back and followed from a distance.

We got back to the dorm, where they'd let me a room, and I got on the elevator with them, and then I followed them back to their suite to make sure he was okay. He swerved into a common room and laid down on a work-out bench.

I thought, well I guess he's okay like that. I went back and talked to the two other guys. Dylan came out and looking at me pissed off he said, "I'm gonna kick your ass."

He took two swings at me and I easily blocked them both because he was so drunk. And I got a little mad so I said, "Alright then come on," and I grabbed him and steered him into his room. Then I yelled at him "Is that the way they treat samaritans in this town? You remember that line, motherfucker!"

I left laughing sure that will appear in one of his songs someday.