Dementia provided decent loot: The "King Harvest" CD, so I can listen to "Dancing in the Moonlight" any time I want to, Gary Gygax's "Gord the Rogue" books from the '80s, and "Babylon 5" on DVD.
Yesterday I was making conversation with the chiropractor's receptionist yesterday, and mentioned that today I would be one card short of a deck, and her eyes got huge; she was truly shocked. "You're FIFTY?" she asked; I nodded and asked how old she thought I was; she sheepishly admitted she thought I was in my late 30s. I smiled and suggested she was reacting to personality rather than appearance, but thanked her anyway.