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WARNING! WARNING! CONTENTS BEHIND THE CUT MAY CONTAIN VAST AMOUNTS OF SWEARING, FREAKING OUT AND GRAPHIC DESCRIPTION OF INTENSE EMOTIONAL BREAKDOWNS
For anyone brave enough to read the following, I apologize in advance for any possible irrationality. I've had a VERY long month, and tonight seems to have been my breaking point.
Set up: I've been overworking myself over the last month, no two ways about it. Davey's been... Davey. I know what he's like when he's in the creative process, nothing really different there. We've had very little in the way of real, loving sex over the last month (with the exception of last night just before I left for the club), more just the type of sex you'd have with a casual partner/fuck buddy, whatever they call them these days. Tonight there were TWO birthday parties going on. Which means that I have to cater to the birthday people. It was supposed to be my regular DJ night. They wanted karaoke. I called Mike up and cleared it with him, and got the karaoke system and mics set up, and karaoke was up and ready to go. Add in an annoying jerk who has been harrassing me on and off for... I don't even know how long, a while... about working for his karaoke company. More about that later, since I've never mentioned him before.
Now for the FUN stuff. /sarcasm
I got to the club a little late tonight, to be honest. I blame Davey and the hot sex we had. (FUCK, I missed that.) Anyway, so I get there, I set up everything that needs to be set up, yada yada, blah blah - not going into the boring stuff. Somehow during the twenty minutes it all took me, I ended up talking to the birthday girl, and she mentions wanting to sing, or have karaoke and such, even though it's not a usual karaoke night. I get the okay and set it up, only to have no takers for the first 45 minutes after I'm done setting up. Cool, whatever, I can do what I do best - mix. And then night is busy, super fucking INSANE, for the next three hours. I'm serious, there were literally NO breaks except the ones I made from HAVING to hear some actual music instead of people TRYING to sing, and TRYING to be cool by picking up the fucking mic stand and playing fucking air guitaer with it. HELLO. DICKWEED. YOU ARE NOT STEVE VAI, FUCK OFF AND PUT THE MIC STAND DOWN.
Also, what is it with drunken assholes and thinking it's okay to get away with shit when it's someone's birthday?
That was only part of it. People would not listen to me AT ALL tonight when I would try to say something. I mean ANYTHING. I call someone up onstage - I have to call them three times at LEAST before they DEIGN to start moving. I tell people not to fuck with the mics/stands, they do it anyway. I tell people NOT to step on my fucking wires, they keep doing it. I ask people to get off the stage if they aren't singing, and they IGNORE ME. >.<
And then - AND THEN. I see the guy who decided to quit working at the club, the other DJ, let's call him Darren. He quits a month ago, no notice, no explanation except that he didn't feel he was getting a fair deal on... whatever. I put on a particularly long song (I think it was some girl singing Hotel California), and end up seeing him as I walk to the bathroom, and on the way back, I overhear him telling someone else that he quit and went to this Chuck guy's karaoke company instead! [[Chuck is the guy who has been harassing me, for the same reason - he wants me to DJ for his company, even though I don't think he realizes that I HAVE MY OWN COMPANY for DJING. Not to mention that his company has no credibility, no established venue to play at on a regular basis. He's tried everything and I won't budge, and I didn't bother telling Davey for a long time because I won't ever chance my mind on it.]] So I confront him about it, and he tells me off. I managed to find out from someone he had been bragging to that that girl I hired for a probation period, the girl I was training, was actually sent by Chuck, to try and learn how I do things, my system, etc. and relay everything back to him. The dirty motherfucking money grubbing business stealing ASSHOLE has resorted to fucking spying to get everything, which LUCKILY didn't work, because that girl is the stereotypical blond. Dumb as a post, and never pays attention to anything unless it'll get her more money.
So I'm already incredibly pissed off, and it's only half way through the night. And guess what. Like an IDIOT, I think to myself, "It can't get any worse than this."
IT DID. First, the assohle himself shows up and starts harassing me again. Iwas so mad at him I seriously almost lost my cool and punched his smug, smirking, STUPID face in right in the bar. (He did leave, though, so yay.) Then, people start getting drunker, louder, and clumsier. Some JACKASS threw one of my mics off the stage and completely busted it, then took off right afterwards so I couldn't even catch up to him about it. I got up and sang 'Sober' by Tool, and I can't do a LOT of songs well, but that's one of the few. A couple guys were very obviously trying to sing over me and making nasty comments about my singing. Someone spilled their beer ALL. OVER. ME. People were being overly demanding and bombarding me with 'one more song, one more song' at the end of the night, so much that I got frustrated and just fucking let them sing one last song, and I had to go out back and punch the wall a couple times.
I don't usually let bullshit like this affect me THAT much, but tonight... no sleep, and a fucked up month, and finding out that all my frustration is partly due to one person made me want to go on a murderous rampage. And to make matters worse, I come home and act like a complete dick to Davey. Fuck. >.< It's over now, he calmed me down, and I apologized for my fucking dickery, and we talked everything over and I finally explained absolutely everything that's been going on and what I found out tonight... I just feel like such a jerk, I shouldn't have let it affect me, and I SHOULD NOT have let myself take it out on my baby, I don't understand why he was so sweet and loving to me after that. (Not that I'm complaining, it's... comforting to know that he still loves me after I yelled and ranted and carried on like a raving lunatic.)
Just in case he reads this, Davey - I love you. I don't know how you put up with me, I'm such an asshole sometimes. And thank you so much for caring and taking care of me and helping me feel a little better. I hope your shirt is dry by now...
ETA: Even after changing into pjs, I STILL fucking smell like beer. UGH.
And... uh... some guy I don't know offered me cocaine tonight when I was out back. I remember taking that stuff for a bit a couple years bcak before I had to get off the drugs, and that and ecstasy nearly killed me - and what scares me is I actually almost took some. I've never moved so fast in my life. I was back on the stage from across a crowded room in a minute.
For anyone brave enough to read the following, I apologize in advance for any possible irrationality. I've had a VERY long month, and tonight seems to have been my breaking point.
Set up: I've been overworking myself over the last month, no two ways about it. Davey's been... Davey. I know what he's like when he's in the creative process, nothing really different there. We've had very little in the way of real, loving sex over the last month (with the exception of last night just before I left for the club), more just the type of sex you'd have with a casual partner/fuck buddy, whatever they call them these days. Tonight there were TWO birthday parties going on. Which means that I have to cater to the birthday people. It was supposed to be my regular DJ night. They wanted karaoke. I called Mike up and cleared it with him, and got the karaoke system and mics set up, and karaoke was up and ready to go. Add in an annoying jerk who has been harrassing me on and off for... I don't even know how long, a while... about working for his karaoke company. More about that later, since I've never mentioned him before.
Now for the FUN stuff. /sarcasm
I got to the club a little late tonight, to be honest. I blame Davey and the hot sex we had. (FUCK, I missed that.) Anyway, so I get there, I set up everything that needs to be set up, yada yada, blah blah - not going into the boring stuff. Somehow during the twenty minutes it all took me, I ended up talking to the birthday girl, and she mentions wanting to sing, or have karaoke and such, even though it's not a usual karaoke night. I get the okay and set it up, only to have no takers for the first 45 minutes after I'm done setting up. Cool, whatever, I can do what I do best - mix. And then night is busy, super fucking INSANE, for the next three hours. I'm serious, there were literally NO breaks except the ones I made from HAVING to hear some actual music instead of people TRYING to sing, and TRYING to be cool by picking up the fucking mic stand and playing fucking air guitaer with it. HELLO. DICKWEED. YOU ARE NOT STEVE VAI, FUCK OFF AND PUT THE MIC STAND DOWN.
Also, what is it with drunken assholes and thinking it's okay to get away with shit when it's someone's birthday?
That was only part of it. People would not listen to me AT ALL tonight when I would try to say something. I mean ANYTHING. I call someone up onstage - I have to call them three times at LEAST before they DEIGN to start moving. I tell people not to fuck with the mics/stands, they do it anyway. I tell people NOT to step on my fucking wires, they keep doing it. I ask people to get off the stage if they aren't singing, and they IGNORE ME. >.<
And then - AND THEN. I see the guy who decided to quit working at the club, the other DJ, let's call him Darren. He quits a month ago, no notice, no explanation except that he didn't feel he was getting a fair deal on... whatever. I put on a particularly long song (I think it was some girl singing Hotel California), and end up seeing him as I walk to the bathroom, and on the way back, I overhear him telling someone else that he quit and went to this Chuck guy's karaoke company instead! [[Chuck is the guy who has been harassing me, for the same reason - he wants me to DJ for his company, even though I don't think he realizes that I HAVE MY OWN COMPANY for DJING. Not to mention that his company has no credibility, no established venue to play at on a regular basis. He's tried everything and I won't budge, and I didn't bother telling Davey for a long time because I won't ever chance my mind on it.]] So I confront him about it, and he tells me off. I managed to find out from someone he had been bragging to that that girl I hired for a probation period, the girl I was training, was actually sent by Chuck, to try and learn how I do things, my system, etc. and relay everything back to him. The dirty motherfucking money grubbing business stealing ASSHOLE has resorted to fucking spying to get everything, which LUCKILY didn't work, because that girl is the stereotypical blond. Dumb as a post, and never pays attention to anything unless it'll get her more money.
So I'm already incredibly pissed off, and it's only half way through the night. And guess what. Like an IDIOT, I think to myself, "It can't get any worse than this."
IT DID. First, the assohle himself shows up and starts harassing me again. Iwas so mad at him I seriously almost lost my cool and punched his smug, smirking, STUPID face in right in the bar. (He did leave, though, so yay.) Then, people start getting drunker, louder, and clumsier. Some JACKASS threw one of my mics off the stage and completely busted it, then took off right afterwards so I couldn't even catch up to him about it. I got up and sang 'Sober' by Tool, and I can't do a LOT of songs well, but that's one of the few. A couple guys were very obviously trying to sing over me and making nasty comments about my singing. Someone spilled their beer ALL. OVER. ME. People were being overly demanding and bombarding me with 'one more song, one more song' at the end of the night, so much that I got frustrated and just fucking let them sing one last song, and I had to go out back and punch the wall a couple times.
I don't usually let bullshit like this affect me THAT much, but tonight... no sleep, and a fucked up month, and finding out that all my frustration is partly due to one person made me want to go on a murderous rampage. And to make matters worse, I come home and act like a complete dick to Davey. Fuck. >.< It's over now, he calmed me down, and I apologized for my fucking dickery, and we talked everything over and I finally explained absolutely everything that's been going on and what I found out tonight... I just feel like such a jerk, I shouldn't have let it affect me, and I SHOULD NOT have let myself take it out on my baby, I don't understand why he was so sweet and loving to me after that. (Not that I'm complaining, it's... comforting to know that he still loves me after I yelled and ranted and carried on like a raving lunatic.)
Just in case he reads this, Davey - I love you. I don't know how you put up with me, I'm such an asshole sometimes. And thank you so much for caring and taking care of me and helping me feel a little better. I hope your shirt is dry by now...
ETA: Even after changing into pjs, I STILL fucking smell like beer. UGH.
And... uh... some guy I don't know offered me cocaine tonight when I was out back. I remember taking that stuff for a bit a couple years bcak before I had to get off the drugs, and that and ecstasy nearly killed me - and what scares me is I actually almost took some. I've never moved so fast in my life. I was back on the stage from across a crowded room in a minute.