It's late, I can't sleep

So I'll just check in with everyone.

Hi everyone.

I have started one of those huge survey-type End of the Year extravaganza posts, but it's taking way to much time for this Gemini to complete. I will complete it, soon. I just don't know when.

So, meh.

I'll let you know about my New Year's celebrations where I was hired out to be a DJ for a party. Now, I was under the impression that I was to go to some party out in Mississauga and spin retro tunes from 9 - 2:30, then I recieve an email that I'm to go downtown.

"No sweat" I think to myself, "I'll pound out the hits for the night, mix up some shit, throw down some old school, new school, whatever, pull some Beachslam shit out, it'll be fun." That's the plan: Drink some carbonated beverages, rock the ones and twos, laugh at the drunk people, have a shot or two with the bar staff and bid a pleasant goodbye to all at 4 in the morning.

It's like the in a movie preview where you get about 20 seconds of idyllic family scenes. What followed for my evening was the last minute and a half of the trailer where the family gets put through hell for the amusement of the viewing public.

First, I get there with an hour to set up and I'm all set to go in half and hour. The music's all leveled, and ready to spin, now I just need to plug into their PA system and it's aces. Problem is, I wasn't given the proper cables and my DJ service guy was out in Mississauga. Dammned if I can reach him on the phone. I don't know who screwed up but it wasn't my fault and now I have to fix it . . . on New Year's eve. FUCK!

So, I manage to jury rig something that involves the mic cord, some tape and a bit of prayer.

Somewhere, at that moment, Richard Dean Anderson smiled.

Now, I'm supposed to start at ten and the bar manager is already pissed that the music is a half hour late - not at me, but still, I am the only lightning rod he's got. I'll leave it at that.

Anyway, I get the music going, all is well, people are drinking and dancing. Good times.

Midnight strikes, I play the first (and only recognizable part) of Auld Lang Syne then jump into Home For A Rest followed by some Missy Elliot track that gets people jumping and moving like they gotta shit real bad.

My similes, GOLD! (you people should be taking notes)

The clock begins to approach 1am, I start in to Jay-Z's 99 Problems and begin to start planning the build up and come down for the night's music, then the set down (and me getting paid) when about a third of the way into the song two guys start going at it in the main area.

This increases in size.

It progresses from Fight, to Fracas, to Melee, and finally to out and out Brawl in a matter of a chorus. All of a sudden there's about 25 - 35 people just throwing punches and doing all kinds of drunken damage to one another with limbs, chairs, bottles, etc. My first instinct, as a Trained Youth Counsellor, was to jump into the fray and try to help out.

Luckily I told the Youth Counsellor in my head to fuck right off.

I agreed with my second thought which appeared in my head waving my middle finger in a reproachful manner and told me to simply sit back in my DJ booth, sip on my bar coke and let the bouncers try to handle this.

It was weird the way that the whole thing kind of went on. People streamed into the massive bundle, people streamed out. People were crying, yelling, laughing - it was weird and frightening, especially when you look like me and are in charge of very expensive and highly smashable electronic equipment. I didn't really panic too much simply because I had a lot of adrenaline flowing through me (I tend to get that way when DJ-ing, not really surprising that) and I had already been through a thousand and one different emergency situations at Juvie camp where someone could be harmed quite quickly so I just reacted on training there. No panic, stay aware.

Luckily no one approached the DJ area with the intention of playing amateur repairperson on my equipment. If anything, it helped that I had several people around the booth who seemed to think I was an alright guy. It also helped that I had acted as an unofficial (and free) coatcheck for about thirty people, most of which were girls. Can you blame that type of altruism?

Anyway, so the Brawl flows like a highly charged stream through the main area, into the seating area, in the KITCHEN(!!??!!), out into the smoking area, through the KITCHEN(!!??!!) again, and back into the main area. The bouncers can't handle anything.

Luckily the 10 or so cops who streamed in could.

Now, this was a drunken mob they were dealing with, and as hard as it is to argue with a drunk person, it is very easy to manhandle them when you are trained how to do it. This is the lesson that Johnny Law Enforcement taught me by proxy that evening. People were flying out of the front door and into the street in twos and threes like confetti at a wedding.

A very impressive sight.

By the time the brawl had been cleared the bar it was 1:45 and the bar was ready to close. I packed up my shit, had a few shots with the shaken staff and said my goodbyes.

And I got paid cash.

How was your New Year's?