True story:

I was playing a gig in Brooklyn the other week. There was nothing out of the ordinary about the gig until our break in between sets when I noticed one of my drum heroes was in the crowd, hanging out. (I won't mention names, but trust me, he's a heavyweight in the NYC jazz world.)

Immediately I went from Mister Relaxed Happy Funtime Drummer to Mister Freaked Out Nervous Don't-Fuck-Up Now Drummer.

As we began the next set, I looked around the room and didn't see the drum hero around, so I began to relax a bit. Verily, the band rocked the next set.

After the gig ended, the band was just hanging out together, chatting, shooting the shit. Drum hero was there after all, and came up to me and said, "Hey EJ!"
"Hey _____!"
"Still playing the drums I see."
"Trying to!" (Or some other such sheepish response.)
"You sound great, man."

Still floating along on that one!