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    Hey Mr DJ, Put My Record On

    | Minneapolis, MN, USA | Musical Mayhem, Theme Of The Month, Top, Wild & Unruly

    (I work at a DJ in a club. Although I do take requests, I play them where they will fit into the set so that it isn’t weird and everything flows together. On this particular night, it is kind of slow. I start a new set with some slower rap songs; there is a dance floor with 20 to 30 people on it.)

    Me: “Hey, what can I do for you?”

    Customer #1: “Can I hear You Shook Me All Night Long by AC/DC? Everyone loves that song, and everyone is going to dance. They will love it!”

    (The music currently playing is ‘Swimming Pools’ by Kendrick Lamar. It is 68 beats per minute, and hard rap. The song the customer is requesting is in the 130 bpm range.)

    Me: “Sure, I will play it as soon as I can.”

    Customer #1: “Can you play it next?”

    Me: “Probably not, but I try to get it in as soon as I can.”

    (She walks away. Approximately two songs go by; the customer returns.)

    Customer #1: “Well, are you going to play my song? Do you even REMEMBER WHAT SONG I TOLD YOU?!”

    Me: “Yes, ma’am, AC/DC’s You Shook Me. I have to think of the dance floor right now, but I will play it as soon as I can fit it in with other music.”

    Customer #1: *cheerfully* “THANKS!”

    (It should also be noted that I have her song, and the other songs that I am going to play with it, in the song-queue and ready to be played soon. I’m at around 120 bpms, but the dance floor is now around 40-50 people. I get rated by the owners of the Bar/Club by how well I am at getting—and keeping—a dance floor. I get either a nightly bonus or a raise based on the dance floor.)

    Customer #1: *startling me* “ARE YOU F****** STUPID! I SAID I WANT THE GOD D*** SONG PLAYED NOW, YOU C***!”

    Me: “Ma’am, I’m getting to it. It’s going to be played in the next five minutes. When I feel that I can reasonably put it in and keep the dance floor, I will play it. I will even buy you a drink for your wait. Okay?”

    Customer #1: “No! You’re going to play it now! I am a paying customer! I am f****** rich, so I don’t need your handouts!”

    Me: “Well, I’m sorry you feel that way.”

    Customer #1: “F*** you, and this place! You were never going to play it! And stop grinning like you’re so great! I make more money than God, and I could buy this place and fire your piece-of-s*** a**! How f****** hard is your job? PLAY MY DAMN SONG NOW, YOU SON OF A B****!”

    Me: “Firstly, I’m sorry you feel this way, and won’t wait patiently like everyone else. Secondly, God doesn’t make money, so therefore a child finding a penny on the street makes more money than God. Thirdly, my job is keeping a dance floor, it’s how I get paid, raises and bonuses. Fourthly, I was going to play your song, but now I’m not so sure.”

    (Suddenly, Customer #1 tries to punch me, and then smashes her glass and another customers drink on the floor and storms out. Then I see another customer, Customer #2, come walking inside followed by the very irate Customer #1. Customer #1 is visibly yelling, being held back by security as they try to haul her outside. I turn down the music. I do this, because everyone on the dance floor is watching her and no longer dancing. I turn it down so I and everyone else can hear the screaming better.)

    Customer #1: *to Customer #2* “How f****** dare you call me white trash! I’m so much better than you! I own the mall down the street! I work for the state finding people like you places in [trailer park] because you’re f****** poor!”

    Customer #2: *laughing hysterically* “No, you work down at the mall. You own the 5th trailer in [trailer park], on [street address], and your name is [Customer #1].”

    Customer #1: “I’LL F****** KILL YOU!”

    (Customer #1 pulls out a small blade. The security guard throws her to the ground. They take the knife away, and hold her there until the cops come. As they are arresting her, I stop all music to dead silence, and speak over the microphone.)

    Me: “To the woman getting arrested, here is your requested parting gift!”

    (I crank the chorus of ‘You Shook Me All Night Long’ by AC/DC all the way up as she’s being hauled off. I can see her trying to break free and get to me while she mouths ‘YOU SON OF A B****!’. Everyone starts cheering.)