You're Having the Time of My Life

As I have stated many, many times before on this site, I am a DJ. Not in a dance club, but a club nonetheless. The beauty of it is that I'm not restricted to dance music. The place where I DJ is the Garden Bowl, which is a part of the Majestic Theater Center. This also includes the somewhat infamous Magic Stick. By being a DJ in a non-dance club type club, I get to witness all kinds of absurdity. There are the ridiculous comments about "white" and "black" music, the completely subjective "play something I know" comment, and the typical assumption that I am either (a) a DJ at a meat-market style dance club, or (b) a mind reader.

Last night, a particularly bland woman felt the need to harass me. Twice, she asked me to play the Violent Femmes. She obviously wasn't listening the first time when I told her I didn't have any. If you ask me once, and I say 'no, I don't have any' then the chances that I have it an hour later are not very good. No, I didn't drive out to a 24-hour record store to buy what you wanted to hear in between the first and last time. Sorry. Later, she asked me to play some hip hop. This, of course, was while I was playing "My Mind's Playing Tricks On Me" from the Geto Boys. After pointing out the obvious to her, she asked me to play some "dance music." Then she added, "but make it something I know. Something I can dance to." Right. It seems that at that point, she was giving me permission to crawl inside her mind and know what it is that she knows. Give me a fucking break, people. I know that the pitcher of Bud Light you just drank is making you stupid, but honestly, are you really that dumb? Must I be forced into a semantics argument over what is subjective and what is not every time I DJ? Are DJs at cheesy nightclubs all mind-readers? Am I missing something? Oh, she also wanted me to play something she could sing along to, because that's the only way she can dance to a song. Her hips are not slaves to the rhythm, only the words, I guess.