Pour Me a Tall One:
I’m surprised I don’t have more alcohol stories, given the sheer volume I witness consumed every weekend. I had a bridesmaid pass out before the introductions. Last Saturday the bride’s brother was on the verge of challenging me to a fight for not playing the Macerana. For the most part though, people just get drunk and then get happy or sad or stupid and that’s about it.
There was one tragedy. There was man who had drank enough beer to intoxicate an ox (which was also coincidently about how big he was). He picked up a pregnant woman who was also a wee bit tipsy. They started spinning. Spin, spin, spin, spin, CRASH! The thing about gravity is it can have very negative effects one one’s DJ lighting equipment. Total damage done, about $2000. For some strange reason the man failed to give me his name and telephone number. My girlfriend was working with me that night and tried to track him down. Despite her best efforts, the guests and family members would not give her his identity. When she asked the pregnant lady, the woman didn’t even remember taking a header in to the lights and toppling to the floor. Ah alcohol.
It’s All Right, It’s All Right, It’s All Right…
On one reception in the dead of winter, Ryan had to go out to the parking lot for some reason. There he found a girl just standing on the pavement in her bare feet. When he suggested that she perhaps put on some footwear, she replied. “Nah, cocaine is the best.”
At the end of one of my jobs, I was in the bathroom and blew my nose. Due to my dry sinuses I am often subject to nasal crimson tides, and sure enough I started bleeding. One of the groomsman saw me, and said “Dude are you doing coke?” I assured him I wasn’t and that it was just the allergies. Apparently he wasn’t convinced because he then opened the door and shouted to the guests “Hey the DJ is doing coke!” Fortunately by that point everyone was too drunk to care. Ah alcohol.
Weddings Are All The Rave
In my early DJ days I would occasionally go on jobs with Ryan. Once, right before the bridal dance, Ryan said “You watch, she won’t put down that water bottle for nothing.” Sure enough, as he introduced the couple for the first dance, the bride took her husband in one hand and her water bottle in the other. That struck me as a bit odd and unclassy. I asked Ryan how he knew she would do that. He replied: “Ecstasy gives you a real dry mouth.”
Now Introducing The Maid of Honor - Mary Jane
This may be not just my favorite DJ drug story, but my favorite DJ story of all time period. Ryan was a little leary when his reception planner called for a great deal of Phish, Greatful Dead and Pink Floyd. Hmmm. Sure enough, a couple hours in to the night, he found himself in a fog of marijuana. The group was quite laid back for some reason and not much for dancing. Four more hours of this would be an eternity, so Ryan took action, and called the cops on them. Twice.
The cops did come out, but to Ryan’s extreme frustration remained in the parking lot and did not enter. He remained trapped in a purgatory of pot. Handed this lemon, Ryan found himself quite thirsty for some lemonade. So he decided to take advantage of the group’s slight indifference - he walked across the room, grabbed a table, stood on it, took the clock off the wall, spun it forward an hour and put it back on the wall.
No one even noticed.
So when “midnight” rolled around, he packed up and got the hell out of there as fast as possible. The bride and groom actually thanked him for the great night and said he did an awesome job.
Ah marijuana.