DNL #4 - How to Start a Fight at the Knights of Columbus

(This is part of my five part Date Night Lessons series dedicated to our first date night in like, a really freaking long time).


For Previous Lessons, Refer to:
DNL#1 - How Much Do You Pay a Babysitter?
DNL#2 - How to Roll When Someone "Comps" You
DNL#3 - How to Ride in an Elevator

So, I told you in my last post that I was really bummed when we got to Mr. Crocker's party and nobody was dancing. This is SACRILEGE, I thought.

Nobody puts Mr. C in the corner.

Granted, he wasn't really in the corner. He was kind of hanging around, nursing a few drinks and chit-chatting with all the guests. But I could tell he was a little bummed about the music.

This is a picture of Mr. C at our wedding. (The lovely blonde cheering him on is Heather):


He really, really likes to dance. And he can jitterbug, foxtrot, salsa with the best of them.

So here is kind of what I was expecting to hear when we got to the party. This is my imaginary sample playlist of some of the stuff I might have played if anyone asked "DJ Masala" to handle the music at the party:

Cupid - Sam Cooke
Get Up - James Brown
Shake, Shake Shake Senora - Harry Belafonte
Runaround Sue - Not sure who sings this
Brown Eyed Girl - Van Morrison
Crazy Love - Van Morrison
I Feel Good - James Brown
Come a Little Bit Closer - Jay and the Americans
Mambo Italiano - Rosemary Clooney
Anything by Frankie Vallie

That is just a rough sample.

(I also can be hired to do bar/bat Mitzvahs, weddings and Sweet 16s)

Anyhoo.

DJ Masala's playlist was NOT playing, however. One of the Mr. C's friends from church was helping out with the music and had set up some speakers that were being fed through his iPod. Now, I don't even know what was being played, but let me just tell you that it didn't make you want to dance.

So Heather and I got a little over eager to make sure that Mr. C would be provided the right kind of music to dance to on his birthday. This may have had something to do with the wine that we drank at dinner.

Jamie, it all comes back to you, doesn't it? This is all your fault.

"Do you have your iPod in the car?" Heather asked.
"Yes!" I said, all too eagerly. Except then I realized what was on it.

See, on my iPod, I have all the folksy, acoustic songs that I used to calm me down during the births of both of my children. That comprises the primary playlist. It is full of lovely songs that don't make you want to dance, per se, but rather, fall asleep. Or even push out a baby.

Which was not what we were going for at this party.

I didn't think anyone would appreciate my Joshua Radin, Damien Rice, Alexi Murdoch, Brandi Carlile, Tristan Prettyman, Schuyer Fisk mix (yes, I know, I know - all household names. But I LOVE them).

And then I thought of what else was on my playlist. These are the songs I listen to to get me "revved up" when I work out. They are hardcore and probably not appropriate for this party:

Killing in the Name - Rage Against the Machine
Welcome to the Jungle - Guns n Roses
Give it Away - Red Hot Chilli Peppers
Gold Digger - Kanye West
Get Busy - Crystal Method

But then we looked through it and found some decent tunes - mainly James Brown and Sam Cooke and thought we could at least get a few songs where Mr. C could just throw down and show everybody his moves.

Because nobody puts Mr. C in the corner.

So we go over to change the iPod out. Heather and I were both convinced that Mr. C was as upset about the music choices as we were and felt it was our civic duty to help him. So we go over, pause the iPod and start changing it.

And some lady comes over and slaps us on our hand.

I kid you not. I mean, it didn't hurt. But she kind of looked at Heather and me and said, "You shouldn't touch somebody's machine."

Ok. I totally get it. Maybe we jumped the gun. But really, you had to go on and slap my hand. And who the he%$ calls an iPod a machine?

So, Heather and I try to be respectful, because it goes along with our over-tipping personalities. But then Mr. iPod Machine comes over, we explain that we just want to have a few songs where we can all dance with Mr. C and he tells us:

"This is a very complicated setup." (If complicated means connecting a wire, ok. I guess that COULD be complicated.) Then he says, "If Mr. C says he wants it changed, then I will do it. But not because of two girls." He almost spit at us when he said the "two girls" part.

Oh. No. He didn't. (snap, snap). Complicated my ASS. The only complicated thing about tonight is still trying to figure out who the he$% Jamie is.

At this point, Heather explains to the man that Mr. C himself said he needed a change of pace with the music (but I don't think Mr. C ever really ever meant for us to repeat that to his fellow church member, ya know? Oops.)

So you can see where this is heading? Right?

Like, I get out ONCE a freaking year and am now starting brawls with senior citizens.

What have I become?

Mr. C saw what was happening and tried to tell us not to worry and then Mr. Complicated iPod came over and realized we weren't just two chicks crashing the party at the Knights of Columbus who were getting overfamiliar with his machine. But our feelings were hurt. Because it wasn't Mr. C in the corner.

It was really me and Heather.

Lesson Learned:
Stop touching other people's machines. And don't start fights with Senior Citizens. It just doesn't make much sense.

You could get banned from the fraternal order of the Knights of Columbus and that would be embarrassing.

Especially when you ask "DJ Masala" to emcee your next Sweet 16.