ALL ABOUT THE LINCOLNS

Had a good, yet depressing day yesterday.

Wish I had more time to write about it, but I don't.

I start my first temp job today ... telemarketing.

Yay.

Can I say that with any less enthusiasm??

Y.

I guess that's about the least enthusiastic that I can get.

On the plus side, back in 1990 when I was first desperate for money rolling in, I tried my hand at telemarketing and was damned good at it.

And the telemarketing I'm doing is just trying to find volunteers for a fun event to benefit a certain charity that I've always supported. So I at least believe in what I'm doing which is good.

It's just ... depressing, y'know.

No offense to telemarketers ... but I'm moving backwards here.

Something better will come up soon.

I'm sure of it.

At least I keep telling myself that anyway.

And at least some of the bills will get paid now.

Last night I had a DEAD crowd at the club until about 11:00 when a large group of people came in.

They wanted to do karaoke but many of them had never done it before.

They tried it and I made fun of them and they all had a great time.

At midnight, I shut things down because I only get paid until midnight.

They complained.

I told them that if everyone coughed up $5 apiece, I'd stay for another 30 minutes.

They scrounged up the cash and handed it over.

I played for another 30 minutes and they were all satisfied.

I shut down the system AGAIN and packed up my stuff to leave.

A little woman at the bar kept hollering "I just got here! I want to DAAAAAANCE!!!"

I mock-argued with her, trying to tell her that I was tired, I had to get up early this morning and that I was already there well past the time I stopped getting paid.

She begged for one more song.

That damned "Get Low" song.

I figured it couldn't possibly kill me to play one more song so I went BACK to the DJ booth, turned everything back on again and played "Get Low" for her and two women at the bar who all got out on the dance floor and dry humped each other's asses.

Sorry ladies. No offense, but that kinda crap turns me off. I don't care how drunk you are ... I don't want to see you dry humping each other's asses.

So the song ends and before I can turn the music off, the next song starts on the disc.

"In Da Club".

So the women get all excited and stay on the dance floor.

THAT song ends and I make sure I shut it all down before the next song starts.

The little beligerent woman comes over to thank me and introduce herself to me.

She's the manager of a club that's about to open in town.

And she wants my business card because she wants me to work Thursday-Saturday at her club.

Apparently, the begging of the song was to test me and see if I played it.

The fact that even though I didn't get paid for it and was dead tired but still went out of my way to make every customer happy impressed her.

I'm not counting on getting the job.

But if I do, our money problems are temporarily taken care of.

It just goes to show you ... it pays to be nice to everyone because you never know who you're talking to.