I have a close friend (friends since Little League, lived together for a while, we went to law school together, I was in his wedding, helped him find his birth father, etc. etc.) who is a reasonably accomplished musician; at one point, before his daughters were born, he tried "one last shot", joining a band to cut a record and see what happened. I actually managed them for a while. Anyhow, he was on vacation in the Bahamas with his wife (I forget if it was honeymoon or just vacay) and he was having a drink in the bar at the complex they were staying and took up a convo with the table next to him. At one point music came up and one of the guys asked if he played bass and Eric said "sure".
So during one of the house band breaks, Nicko took the drums, Eric took the bass, and Adrian took guitar. To this day we joke about Adrian standing there, leaning back and mumbling in that East End accent "Blues in C!".
I have no idea if this is true, only his word, but he is one of those guys that if you weren't friends with him, you'd hate him, because (good) shit just happened to him. He's got enough to brag about and/or gloat about that he well and truly does not need to make up stories like this.