A friend of mine told me this story a while ago. I have no idea if it's true. A friend (or possibly a friend of a friend) of his was a big Eric Clapton fan, but lived out in the boonies far away from any potential tour stops. But eventually he learned that Clapton would be playing at a (relatively) nearby city, and started saving his pennies so that he could go.
He managed to gather together enough money to buy a beaten up old car which (he hoped) would hold together long enough to get him to the city and back. After an epic journey he arrived in the city on the day of the concert and started trying to buy a ticket - only to find out that the show was completely and utterly sold out. Some tickets were being scalped, but for much more money than he had left. Dejected, having got so only to be foiled at the last hurdle, he wandered to a nearby seedy bar to drink himself into a stupour.
The barman asked why he looked so depressed, and listened with a sympathetic ear as the fan related his story.
Some hours later, the sounds from outside the bar suggested that the concert had ended and our hero decided that he should get back to his car to sleep off the drink before the long drive home. The barman enigmatically said "just stick around a little longer".
And he was right to - because shortly after that, Eric Clapton himself walked into the bar and proceeded to jam for the small audience there until the early hours.