So I was at my aunt's wedding last night and her daughter and her daughter's wife put it together. Now I'm telling you this part because it's important to the story.
So it starts out fine, the dance floor becomes open and cliché party music plays. Music from the 70s, music that everyone's already heard a million times and they still love them even though nowadays they feel like they're 200 years old. Now that's fine with me even though the music isn't my cup of tea, but the booze is helping me not give a fuck. At that time the DJ says, "I'm taking your song requests." Now I'll admit that the first song that I requested (Awoken by Wooden Toaster) was not appropriate since it had the lyric, "I don't know those eyes I see in the blood-stained chrome.") So I understood that the DJ said she couldn't play that and I'm glad she caught my mistake to request that since I was thinking with my ass when I requested that. But then I asked her if she could play, "The Fox by Ylvis." Now if the DJ had said that she couldn't play that song, I would understand that, just keep that in mind.
And she said yes. So one hour later, I'm still hearing the same cliché party music and I'm thinking, "What the fuck? better go talk to the DJ, because I'm getting my song played come hell or high water." And for those of you who are wondering, no I do not think the world revolves around me, but I don't think it revolves around everyone but me. So I come up to the DJ, thinking that maybe she forgot my song request, I just walk up to the booth and I say to her, "excuse me, did you get my song request?" And she says, "yeah, but I just gotta play the brides' (it was a lesbian wedding) songs first before I play the requests." So I understood, that, but then another fucking hour goes by of cliché music plays, and I'm thinking, "ok something's up, the DJ would not have made a big announcement saying that she is taking requests if she didn't have time to do that." So I go to the DJ booth again.
This time I say to the DJ, "do you have my song?" and the DJ says, "Yes, but I have to ask the brides' first." At this point I am seething and thoughts are going through my mind of "accidentally" spilling water on the audio equipment, but I didn't want to get ass-raped in prison, so I wasn't gonna do that. So I just patiently waited while this cunt DJ blew me over, this old hag who probably didn't even know where she was. She probably had alzheimer's and confusedly walked into the DJ booth and thought she worked there. So I tell my sister about what's going on and she has the decency to inform me that the DJ isn't playing any requests from anyone. And at that point, I am fucking seething and every time I look over there at the DJ booth, the face of the devil is on my face and I'm thinking, "You fucking bitch, just play the god-damn song already! Stop being retarded!" So my sister tells my cousin, who tells the bitch DJ and she finally plays the fucking song. And then I literally yell, "Finally! I only had to wait two and a half hours!" (yes I know it was three and a half hours, but I was slightly confused.)
So right after that she plays one more song, that's right, the first requested song, was the second to last song that was played; the god-damn motherfucking bitch! So right after the last song I go up to her and give her the business because no one is gonna fucking brush me off like my song requests because just cause the world doesn't revolve around me, doesn't me it revolves around everyone but me. And I walk up to the booth with the look of the devil on my face yet again and look her right in the eye and say, "Hello, I would like to personally thank you for making me jump through hoops to get my song played, I really appreciate that." And I just stared at her for a while because I was expecting her to see the rage on my fucking face and just give me a god-damn apology for her god-damn, motherfucking bullshit, but no, she just looks at me with the same look that was giving her, like I'm the fucking jackass, when not only was she deceptively unwilling to play my request, but everyone else's requests and not to mention the requests for the songs that my dad wrote that I wanted to promote that weren't even my thing!
Now during my rage before she played the song, I was considering e-mailing the venue instead of getting in this woman's face, but I wanted this god-damn bitch to start regretting what she did right after she did it. And you know what? It felt pretty god-damn motherfucking good! And do you know why?! It's because I did not take shit! I hate taking shit and if you try and give me shit I'll give you shit!
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