John Mc

This is a collection of my thoughts. Some of the thoughts that I once had, I no longer do. Some thoughts I have now I have never had. Yet none shal be discounted. This blog is soley for the enjoyment of the author and the readers. On occasion the views expressed are overly exagerated in order to prove a point. Also there may be a dirty word or thought in some of the posts. Grow up and take this for what it's worth - a blog that barely anyone will ever see.

10/28/2008

Pink 'N Knights

As most of you know, I am a wedding DJ and have been for over 11 years. While most weddings are pretty standard, I have seen some pretty strange stuff. This month I seem to have gotten all of the weirdos. Now begins the first in this series of weddings that will document all the weirdness that I have experienced recently.
It was two weeks ago that I had the honor and privilege to be a DJ at Holiday Banquet. (While the pictures provided here are ones taken with my awful cell phone, feel free to click on that link to show the pride that they exhibit in their "gallery" section.) We arrived to a dark banquet room and figured we must have just been very early. So, after going back outside we realized that there was a buzzer on the main door. After alerting the "staff" that we were there, they flipped on the lights and told us we were able to load our equipment through the back door.
We moved the van around and opened the doors. We examined the route we would take and found it involved stairs preventing us from wheeling in our equipment. I took this as a sign that tonight would be a great night.
We decided that the best option would be to carry each piece in. Each of us grabbed a speaker and turned around to have a guy appear from the wooded alleyway beside the building.
"You DJ?" he asked.
"Yes. We DJ." I responded.
"You unload here?"
"Yup."
"You wait fermadug."
I looked at my assistant who shrugged his shoulders. "What?" I asked.
With a slight hint of frustration he responded, "You WAIT FERMADUG."
We nodded as he stood in between us and the building and whistled. A HUGE rottweiler with a barbed wire collar appeared from the alley and made his way into the building. We assumed that he wanted us to "wait for my dog." They disappeared into a door marked "private" and "beware of dog." This door, I have deduced, lead to their home on the property. I'm pretty sure that they live in the back. They probably have Grandma cooking her ass off each Saturday making what looked like food later on.
This was the START of the evening.
After carrying in the speakers to our "stage," we realized that there wasn't a table to place our system on. The rottweiler handler happened to be walking by when we asked for a table. "You not bring a table?" he asked us rather confused. When we responded "Nope" he rolled his eyes as if we were supposed to supply that.
A guy in an apron with long hair carried a folding table with the handler up to the stage and dropped it off. Mr. Handler took off while Mr. Apron stood next to me as we looked at the room.
The room that we were in was pink. Everywhere there was pink... and knights in armor. To go along with this theme, the bride and groom's seats were thrones. Very fitting. The walls all had mirrors from 1986 that had great designs on them. They showed off music notes, a vertical piano, a palm tree and a martini glass with a lime wedge. (Because that's how I enjoy my martini's. Keep your olives. I want a lime.)
Mr. Apron took a deep breath while taking in the room and turned to me over his shoulder and said "pretty."
"Oh yeah! I have a room in my house done up the same way."
He nodded.
"Should we expect a lot of guests?"
He nodded again. I realized now he has no idea what I am saying.
"I think that the pink and the knights are a bit much though."
He nods and smiles as he walks out of the room. Either he realizes that the Sixteen Candles motif is outdated or he fears another follow up question.
After we set up our equipment, my assistant notices that there is a red rope of lights that span the bottom of the stage we are on. "Well, hell! Plug 'em in!" I recommend. I figured when in Rome, be as tacky as the Romans are. It really put a nice touch on the whole image.
It was time to get changed out of my jeans and t-shirt so I would look very respectable for what I assumed would be a very discerning crowd. It is there that I noticed the "instillation art" that someone had placed upon the bathroom wall. Very nice. On my way back to the "stage," I couldn't help but note the Solo cups on the tables to toast the bride and groom in style.
As the bridal party was arriving, the hall made sure to plug in the trellises that framed each doorway. They had flashing white Christmas lights on them. "Perfect" I thought.
When the bride and groom arrived, I realized she was white and he was black. Plus, as the room started showing up, it was apparent that the half to my right would hate the music that I played for the half on my left and vice versa. No matter what I played, no one was going to be happy. Including me.
The night keeps getting better and better!
The bar had one bartender for the 200 people in the room. This was not a good decision. From the time the bar opened to last call, there was a constant and obscenely long line that crept onto the dance floor on more than one occasion. (Including during the bride and groom's first dance.) I guess Mr. Handler was busy not getting killed by his dog to hop back there to pull a cap or two off of some beers. It also didn't help that the bartender also spoke English as well as Mr. Apron.
The waitstaff was an interesting bunch. One kid couldn't have been more than 14 at the most! I got the notion that the completely Polish staff was probably all related. The hall/bridal couple had me assist them in cutting their cake right before soup and/or salad. This is usually a sign that they are going to serve it for desert. My assistant and I killed time during dinner sitting in the other room and making fun of things. (This is standard at weddings. The DJ will constantly make fun of everything and everyone possible. This is a HUGE part of the job description.) We opted to not dine with the guests for fear of health code violations killing us within a few days. Grandma may have made it, but it most certainly was not with love, probably with rat instead.
We get back to our DJ table, which is right next to the cake table to see that the cake was still sitting there. I nudged my assistant and pointed out that "someone has dropped the ball on this one." He nodded and smiled and we began looking around for a server to see if there was something we were missing, or instead, something they had missed. It is then that a swarm of waiters and waitresses descended upon the cake and quickly ushered it into the back. After some rather quick and dirty cutting, (I say dirty not as a part of the phrase, but due to the condition of the hall) they got the desert out nearly in time. Only 20-30 minutes late. I'm fine with this. This is a half hour that I don't have to work and if everyone around me looks bad, I don't have to try as hard to look good.
The first dances go well. We start with a slow song and then move into "Celebration" and "We Are Family" as I do at EVERY wedding. This is when one of the groom's guests graces us with her presence at our DJ table.
"When you gonna play some of our music?"
"What?" I asked.
"You know, black people music."
"I could be mistaken, but wasn't there a few black people in 'Kool N The Gang?'"
She then made some noise with her mouth, tilted her head and stormed off. Only to join us again with the beginning of the next song.
"Ya all got some booty, ghetto music?"
"Yup."
"Ya gonna play dat shit?"
"Yup."
"Next?"
"Nope."
"What you got?"
I tossed her the list of songs that the bride and groom requested.
"This it?"
"No. That is what the bride and groom want."
"You gots to be kiddin'. When you gettin' to da good shit?"
"I have some good news for you. We have 2.5 hours of dancing tonight. At some point tonight, EVERYONE'S request will be played. Give me time to make the bride and groom happy and then we will get to what you want."
"Next?"
"No."
She stormed off again. I took "Gold Digga" out of the cue list that was due up next. I told myself if she could let three songs go by without requesting one of her own, then I would play her request. I'm not a racist. I just don't like assholes.
She never let that happen.
Soon it was time for the dollar dance. If you are not familiar with this, it is the most insulting thing that a bride and groom can ever do. Everyone has assembled to celebrate their marriage. Everyone has given them a card with cash or a wedding present. The bride and groom, being the greedy bastards that they are, attempt to raise more cash by making their guests pay at least $1 for a dance with one of them.
It is during this time that I play all the boring-ass slow songs that have been requested that evening to get them out of the way. What I did here was play 5 country songs in a row. "Amazed" was played followed up by "I Hope You Dance" and "Bless This Broken Road." It was right around this time that my "Gold Digga" friend gathered up her group and headed for the door. I'm not too sure why. My assistant was outside smoking at this point and hurried back in to let me know what occurred past the doors.
Apparently her friends were trying to convince her to give them her keys due to her great and apparent intoxication.
"No, I's fine."
"Well, at least let us take your drink from your hand before you get to your car."
"I'm gonna finish it!"
They then proceeded to play a CD in the parking lot and dance to that. Which is perfectly fine, because when you attend someone's wedding it is all about getting your favorite song(s) played, not the celebration of their union.
The remainder of the evening was decent. Nothing else of mention occurred other than the bride saying that we "made her night" and that "we did better than expectations." I was surprised, because I thought the evening kinda sucked. However, her perception was all that mattered. I had hoped that her great opinion of the evening would equate to a tip. In hind-sight, I'm glad that I didn't get my hopes up too high.
I guess most people don't realize that the DJ is a part of the service industry (like waiters, movers, valet, etc.) and get tipped. If you drop $1200 on a wedding for the DJ, I expect AT LEAST $100 from you. That isn't even 10%!
Yet, when you have a country-filled dollar dance surrounded by used Solo cups and knights in shinning armor, I can't expect that much from you.

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1 Comments:

  • At 8:54 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    Was this wedding at The Raintree Inn??? From the way you describe it, I can't be too sure. And seriously, who comes to weddings for the bride and groom??? I thought you were supposed to go for your own sake, as a venue to gets drunk and makes an ass out yo'self. Shiiiiiiiiit!

     

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