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6:18 a.m. - 2006-02-15

THE LAST TWO NIGHTS


A quick update here because that's all I have time for anymore ... quick updates.

Was scheduled to do a Valentine's Day party last night at the main club where I work.

Each month, a new contract is drawn up for me with all the dates that I'm scheduled to work and the amount of money I'm to be paid on it. Don't ask me why because I don't know. Just tell me when you need me and I'll be there. There's no need for a contract.

Or is there???

Read on, dear ... reader.

So on the contract it had me scheduled for Valentine's Day.

I get to work 30 minutes before I'm supposed to start.

I had a funny feeling about this all along.

So I get to work and ... if they're having a party in there, you wouldn't know it. Chairs are stacked on top of each other everywhere you look.

I went to the office and my big boss and her secretary are the only ones there.

I have a bit of a problem with her secretary. Twice in the past, the secretary has booked me for private parties where I was promised several hundred dollars ... and at the last minute I found out that I wasn't "officially" booked and that another DJ had been hired.

Long story that I won't get into there. But let's just say I was a wee bit furious.

So I get to the office last night and say "We having a party tonight?"

"Uhhhhh...no. Why?"

"Well, because on my contract it says we're having a party and I'm getting paid $300 for it."

"WHAT?!?!?"

(a nasty look thrown at the secretary from my boss)

"Pull his contract out, Secretary! Pull it out now!"

(My boss was hoping ... HOPING that I was mistaken.)

I wasn't.

The secretary put her face in her hands and was about to cry.

"I don't know how this happened," the secretary moaned. "I don't know why I did this."

The manager said "Well, we have to pay you since you signed the contract. But there's no party."

"Yeah, I need to get paid," I said. "My wife already has that $300 added to our monthly budget. Plus I gave up another private Valentine's party because I had already signed this contract."

(That was a lie. I hadn't been contacted to do a Valentine's party elsewhere. But I just wanted to make the secretary feel just a wee bit worse because she had screwed me over twice before.)

So bottom line ... I get $300 for signing that contract.

But y'know ... I feel real guilty for taking money and not doing anything.

And these people have been real good to me for the last two years.

So I'm not going to take the $300.

I'm going to email my boss and tell her that mistakes are made, blah blah blah and maybe ... MAYBE ... this whole "monthly contract" crap can be abolished because I've never missed a night in two years and they can trust me to be there and ... as they've seen ... the contract thing only hurts them more than protects them.

I really just want the secretary to be taken out of the loop between me and the boss.

Yeah.

This all makes a buncha sense, right?

Sorry ... it's the Nyquil talking.



Monday night I did a party for the contestants of the state's beauty pageant.

The most beautiful young ladies from each county in the state were there.

Here's the problem with that.

If I were 25 years younger, this might have been paradise.

But I'm not.

And ... while these girls were pretty ... they were YOUNG.

I don't remember high school girls being that young.

When I was in high school, high school girls were mature.

But these girls looked like fifth graders with makeup on.

So anyway, the party was for the girls and their fathers ... the ones who could make it anyway.

And RIGHT OFF THE BAT, I was getting requests for songs like "My Humps", "Don't Cha" and "Laffy Taffy".

Okay.

"My Humps" is all about ... and I'm only guessing here ... being proud of one's tits and ass.

It's a really popular song and it's in commercials and everything so I shouldn't be hesitant to play it but ... ummmm ... little girl ... that's your Dad over there watching you brag about your 17 year-old tits and ass due to the music I'm playing. No offense, but I didn't come here to get punched out.

"Don't Cha"??

"Don't cha wish your girlfriend was hot like me? Don't cha wish your girlfriend was a freak like me? Don't cha?"

Hey Dads! What'cha think of me now? I've got all your little girls out there on the dance floor screaming that their freaks! Aren't I the best?!?

"Laffy Taffy"??

God only knows what that song's about. "Shake that Laffy Taffy. Shake that Laffy Taffy."

I'm guessing Laffy Taffy's another word for ass.

Not that I'm a pervert and think that everything in popular music has to have something to do with sex.

But I doubt seriously "Shake that Laffy Taffy" is supposed to be another way of saying "Shake that head around in a really carefree fashion and dance very cordial with your partner".

Nnnnnnnope.

So it was really awkward hitting them with those songs right off the bat.

But the dads didn't even flinch. Not that I was staring at them with a defiant glare. I just casually looked around the room and most of the dads were chatting away while the music played and their daughters danced.

Once I got that triad of filth out of the way, I cleansed the dance floor with "Summer Nights" from the Grease soundtrack because there's nothing little girls like more than singing along to that song.

From there I played old school disco and country and rock and just a smattering of hip hop.

And it was a very successful party.

Even the Dads danced.

And nobody punched me for making their daughters dance like Thai hookers.

So ... you know ... it was a good night.

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