When I was in school at Hopkins, I was in a band called uberWENSCH and some sweet little boy who handled bookings for student events booked us to be one of the opening bands for fIREHOSE. It was the thrill of a lifetime for me; I had been a Mike Watt fan since I was a wet-behind-the-ears punkass around the D.C. scene, early 80s.
The big night dawned and I was hanging around the stage they were going to play on, and some other bass player was moving in on Watt (who had clearly been to Providence because I could smell it on his clothes). They were talking about their faves, and Watt asked after mine. I told him that, present company excluded, my gods were Jaco and Tony Levin. I spoke with Mike Watt! He told me I had highbrow taste (which was actually a bit lowering; I had always assumed I was anti-elitist).
Then he wandered over during our soundcheck and played my BASS! It was a crappy Cortez from Sears that my little brother had given me one year when he had nothing for me at Christmas (and has subsequently tried to reclaim without cease). Watt said 'Fuck the hardware!' I was over the moon!
When we played, he sat in a little chair and watched us. I had to pretend he wasn't there to rip through our set (including covers of famous blue raincoat and Neil Young's powderfinger). When he had to go get ready, he called me over to the edge of the stage and let me know he was leaving and he'd enjoyed it. I thought my life had peaked for sure.
When we finished, I ambled over to the other stage to watch their show. It was great and I was ecstatic. After their encore, I went to grab some water from the water fountain. Watt came over, all sweaty, and said I'd inspired HIM. HE HUGGED ME!
I got dumped that night by my boyfriend. It was the easiest break-up of my, and probably his, life. Fuck the hardware!