In the
'90s I was a resident DJ at a weird club in Haifa, Israel, that played
mainstream music, slightly on the alternative side, for (at its peak)
about 1,200 drunk lunatics per evening. "Don't piss off the DJ" was one
of my standard replies to obnoxious requests by annoying people (IE any
requests by anyone).
One evening, this really aggravating girl came up every few minutes demanding Scatman John, a bit more belligerently every time. Now I didn't LIKE a lot of the music we played there, but some of it was particularly nerve wracking for me (I'm slightly fonder of some of it now, 20 years later), but I particularly didn't approve of Scatman John's work. I Still don't. I kept telling her "sure, in a few minutes", and kept an eye out for when she went to the bathroom. Then I played the horrid thing until she came out and cut it off in the middle. She never came back to the DJ stand.
I edited most tracks in this mix, for length, but not very well.
One evening, this really aggravating girl came up every few minutes demanding Scatman John, a bit more belligerently every time. Now I didn't LIKE a lot of the music we played there, but some of it was particularly nerve wracking for me (I'm slightly fonder of some of it now, 20 years later), but I particularly didn't approve of Scatman John's work. I Still don't. I kept telling her "sure, in a few minutes", and kept an eye out for when she went to the bathroom. Then I played the horrid thing until she came out and cut it off in the middle. She never came back to the DJ stand.
I edited most tracks in this mix, for length, but not very well.
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