“I don’t have Stanky Leg!” I snapped at a sixth grader. I normally pride myself on rolling with the punches for any job. I also knew that DJing an inner city school would mean a tidal wave of requests for booty shaking songs I likely did not own. However I hadn’t planned on the pretty rainbow or the boiling pot of soup.
Rewind two weeks. After exhausting every potential financing option I could think of, I was about to purchase a car with a credit card. Upon hearing this my parents staged an intervention (or as close to an intervention as possible over the phone.) They convinced me that while buying a new engine for an aging Jeep was risky, it still beat putting twelve grand on my card for a new car. I admit this would have been financial suicide. So there, I’ve said it. My parents were right. It happens now and then.
Lowell the mechanic told me it would be no problem and would have it ready by Tuesday. On Tuesday I called and he said he hadn’t started yet, heavily backlogged, working 13 hour days, blah blah blah. He said Thursday, maybe. Thursday didn’t happen and neither did Saturday, scratching my plans to attend the Production Assistant Boot Camp in Detroit. Most frustrating.
Ryan asked how it was coming and I told him. He then called the shop to complain the delay was fucking up his world as there were DJ jobs I needed to cover. This was not true at the time, but he was so convincing even I bought it. The motivational speech must have worked, because my car was finished two days later. Only cost $2750. Chump change really.
I broke in my new engine yesterday with road trips to Hemlock (rescued my skis from the storage shed, despite the freakish sixty degree weather), then to Midland for some rollerblading. Nevermind that my blades were still in the living room. I resigned myself to walking the rail trail, but then Ryan called about DJing a job Wednesday for the new middle school. I hightailed it back to the gym where he had the contract ready for me.
Today I pulled up to the building and went inside to check it out. I can honestly say it’s the first middle school I’ve played that had a metal detector. The principal told me to pull around back to unload. I backed the trailer up to the door and moved the equipment into the gym. I went back to get my music case and that’s when I noticed the pretty rainbow.
It had been raining all day and the pavement was full of puddles. Full of pretty rainbow swirled puddles. Not just a little swirl here and there, but a whole rushing rainbow river. Which just happened to start from under my car. Well every car leaks a little, I thought. But then I noticed there was smoke coming from the car. I killed the engine and was horrified to hear a pot of boiling soup bubbling from under the hood.
I called Ryan and told him what happened. He said I overheated and gave me the shop’s phone number. I called and left a panicked incoherent voice mail. There was nothing else I could do, except my job. I went back in a tried to be as professional as possible. It was tough though when all I could see was my trips to Chicago and Marquette going down the drain in a pretty rainbow swirl.
The muscles in my back tightened and I grit my teeth as I played two straight hours of godawful booty shaking music. And the kids were relentless.
“Do you have Stanky Leg?” What?? No.
“Do you have Don’t by Soulja Boy?” No.
“Do you have Stanky Leg?” No.
“Do you have Diva by Beyonce?” No.
“Do you have Stanky Leg?” Still no.
“Do you have My Duggy?” No.
“Do you have Stanky Leg?” I DON’T HAVE STANKY LEG!!!!!
Stanky Leg. Seriously, what the fuck is this world coming to?
One of the little demons brought the song in on CD and I cranked it out. Stanky Leg was every bit the lyrical masterpiece I imagined and the kids went nuts. I’ve come close to crying on a couple jobs, but it looked like I finally had a winner. Just then the principle announced there was only five minutes left. Now they were tears of joy.
Although the hell was over, I worried that I would be there hours waiting for a tow truck. I went outside and was relieved to see a giant flatbed waiting for my car. My new best friend Harry was attaching hooks to the bottom of the Jeep. The hydrolic flatbad angled down and the cables pulled it right up. Then Harry hitched the DJ trailer to the back of the tow truck and off we went. Freakin awesome.
We dropped the car and trailer off at the shop and Harry took me home. An hour later Lowell called to say he could find nothing wrong. He did a pressure test, but no rainbows, no soup. I called Ryan who suggested it may be a broken thermostat. I left Lowell a voicemail with this info but won’t hear back from him till tomorrow morning.
And now I wait to see if I will be rollerblading to Chicago.