What a way to begin my 2012 blog, with a post about a conversation next to a urinal! Leave it to me I guess.
Anyway, Last night, I provided the music for the New Years Ball at the Viking Lounge. In our town, there are several bars, and each of them had a New Years Ball. The bars vary from one end of the spectrum to the other, the top being the Royal Canadian Legion, where the ‘upper class Newfies’ tend to gather, while the Brown Derby lies at the other end, where those who the community regards as ‘The other crowd’ like to occupy space. The Viking falls in between those two areas, somewhere in the middle. Mostly French-Aboriginal in heritage, those people know how to have a good time, even if it means the occasional fist fight in the back room, or even worst, in the bathroom (or restroom or lavatory, or simply the place where the toilet exists).
The crowd were on their feet most of the night, dancing shoulder to shoulder to everything from Lady Gaga to Great Big Sea, and everything (Except Rap, as playing one of those songs would result in one less DJ in the area) in between. In the remote moments when I am fortunate to spin a song long enough to make a trip to the bathroom, I really have to rush, and that’s where this story takes place. Long introduction, but hey, who is writing this anyway?
I was always taught that when standing at the urinal (or trough in this case), use the ‘Look ahead, pee and shut up’ routine that my dad taught me at an early age. So here I was, standing doing my duty (peeing) and this guy comes flying into the bathroom, the victim of some guy’s fist, and lands next to me, only I am the one standing and peeing, and he is the one with his head next to the trough. Just then and there, he starts this conversation about how I am doing a great job with the tunes, but he had some suggestions. (They all have suggestions, but let them sit in front of a crowd of anxious party animals whose ages range from 18 to 80, and try to please everyone)
Then he starts talking about life in general, and how most women don’t pay attention to him. I can’t imagine why, as he is an individual who chooses to talk about personal matters while lying on a floor of a bar, next to a converted cattle trough turned into an urinal. He asks me for tips in improving his woman savy. (his words, not mine). By this time, I am finished doing what I was doing, and anxious to get back to my equipment (no, not that equipment, my DJ equipment) and put on the next song. I left my patient on the floor and hurry back to the booth where I can concentrate on what to play next, and not how to help desperate woman deprived guys who choose to lie on the floor next to a urinal and ask for help.
Ah Hell, I couldn’t do that to the guy, so I went back, to find him still lying next to the urinal, and told him that if he really wanted a girl, the first step is to get up out of the pee stained floor, clean up a little (or a lot) and ask her for a dance.
The night went great for me, not so great for my patient, as he must have come upon some sort of revelation while lying in pee, and got the guts to go up and ask some very broad shouldered chick (whose even broader shouldered boyfriend was sitting next to her) for a dance. This resulted in the broad shouldered boyfriend kicking my patient’s ass out the door, over the step, and onto the parking lot. Oh well, guess sometimes a person should never give advice, especially while peeing.
Happy New Year to my fellow (and female) bloggers, and happy blogging in 2012