That's what happened to me when I met
Davy Jones at the Gulfstream Race Track here in Florida. (It's in Hallandale.) Though Mike is my favorite Monkee, I had been a long-time fan of The Monkees (all of them) - including Davy - since 1987 (I've been a fan of Tiny's longer, though - since 1985.) Anyway... After the concert, it was customary for the crowd to be able to get autographs from the performers.
Well, here I am, I'm second in line, had already purchased one of his t-shirts and had it on over the shirt I had on at the time, etc. Mind you, I was also letting my hair grow out because I had cut it really short and hated it, so it was black at the roots, and blonde at the tips. I didn't act all excited and stalkerish or what-have-you... Other than my hair, I was pretty normal. All I said was, "It's so nice to finally get to meet you! I've been a fan since 1987." I then handed him a lunchbox that featured all the Monkees on it for him to sign. He was ignoring me, but I thought perhaps he just didn't hear me, so I repeated myself. He gave me that look like you described, but he stared and stared at me for a solid 15 seconds. I just gave him a look like, "Yoo-hoo? Are ya with me?" (I didn't say that out loud, just kind of gave him a look because he was making me uncomfortable the way he was staring at me, as though I were an alien.) He said rather snottily, "Yeah. Well, here we all are," and signed my lunchbox, but I was absolutely heart broken. I was in tears! I then looked over and he was being all cheery with another female fan, who was a lot better looking that me. I knew right then and there that he was all about what people look like. I took that t-shirt off and asked for my money back. I threw the lunchbox away, and I don't care if he saw me do it.
PS: Davy and I saw eye-to-eye because we're the exact same height!