tellin shiesty club owners to fuckoff appreciation
- Thread starter paren
- Start date
Yeah brother, get it off your chest.
One time I was hustling 2 clubs at once. my partner and i had a night in a club and we took another gig on the same night. It was a month long deal and would triple our earnings so we said fuck it. I would start at one club, he would start in the other. We had a lil dude do the layover as we switched it up. Then I would finish at the other club. After 2 weeks the original club owner found out and was pissed as hell because the other club was his main rival. When he confronted me about it I just smiled and told him it was about the benjamins (yes it was that long ago). He was so motherfucking pissed with his red face. i said go ahead and fire me, do what you gotta do.
He didn't fire me and helped me keep my obligations with the other club. For being a shiesty asshole he was alright. He didn't fire me when I was getting blunted in the club, nor when I beat the crap out of a club goer either. I finally quit though. That place made me hate DJing for a while. I'm just getting back innit.
One time I was hustling 2 clubs at once. my partner and i had a night in a club and we took another gig on the same night. It was a month long deal and would triple our earnings so we said fuck it. I would start at one club, he would start in the other. We had a lil dude do the layover as we switched it up. Then I would finish at the other club. After 2 weeks the original club owner found out and was pissed as hell because the other club was his main rival. When he confronted me about it I just smiled and told him it was about the benjamins (yes it was that long ago). He was so motherfucking pissed with his red face. i said go ahead and fire me, do what you gotta do.
He didn't fire me and helped me keep my obligations with the other club. For being a shiesty asshole he was alright. He didn't fire me when I was getting blunted in the club, nor when I beat the crap out of a club goer either. I finally quit though. That place made me hate DJing for a while. I'm just getting back innit.
niice one,
reminds me of the night our crew was booked for the "B: room at some local spot here, shit was cool untill their "resident" showed up & started illin, they said we had to stop & let him take over, so we said cool, proceeded to jack the needles, pour about 6 beers all over the decks & mixer, then poured pitcher of beer on the amp rack & said peace...
needless to say the "B" room then had nobody playing in it...
reminds me of the night our crew was booked for the "B: room at some local spot here, shit was cool untill their "resident" showed up & started illin, they said we had to stop & let him take over, so we said cool, proceeded to jack the needles, pour about 6 beers all over the decks & mixer, then poured pitcher of beer on the amp rack & said peace...
needless to say the "B" room then had nobody playing in it...
whoa - how about some harcore
I lugged all my shit to this spot downtown and played for 4 hours then the owner wanted to front on the remaining $50 he owed me. I cussed him out in front of the whole place and then kicked the glass back door open (probably not the smartest thing - luckily It didn't break and chop my head off).
The best part was after I wigged out I had to go back in and face everyone 4 more times to get the rest of my stuff!
man these fuckin dudes think we dont know about th 300% or more mark up on fuckin alcohol?!?!?
fuck em... but yeah lucky it didnt cut your head off, but would been raw as fuck had it broke w/o fuckin you up...
as for the outcome of our destroying their gear, the promoters were runnin shit round town, so we rolled back 2 weeks later @ 1:45am & chilled out till dudes left & sweated his bitch ass... he punked out as they all do...
i figure all in all they had to buy a new mixer for sure, possibly a deck but i doubt it, & the 2 crown amps were def fried like chicken, + needles, hope they learned a lesson bout 55south crew...
fuck em... but yeah lucky it didnt cut your head off, but would been raw as fuck had it broke w/o fuckin you up...
as for the outcome of our destroying their gear, the promoters were runnin shit round town, so we rolled back 2 weeks later @ 1:45am & chilled out till dudes left & sweated his bitch ass... he punked out as they all do...
i figure all in all they had to buy a new mixer for sure, possibly a deck but i doubt it, & the 2 crown amps were def fried like chicken, + needles, hope they learned a lesson bout 55south crew...
Last night's experience was on some real silly shit. In Indiana we've dealt with some racist-ass managers/owners and some straight up shiesters. The owner of the spot in question was the latter and an alcoholic.
So last night before I set up (a house system never emerged in the 3 months we were involved with the night despite repeated gaurantees otherwise), I told Mr Owner that I would not be setting up until I was paid for the last week. He owed us several hundred dollars from the week prior and is the sort of cat you have to ask to pay you at the end of the night - a time at which his alcoholic ass is drunk as fuck and trying to holler at little blonde girls. He responded with a quick "sure, sure" and we seemed as straight away as we tend to get with this cat.
Sets go as usual - we start with funk for the first hour or so as their dinner crowd transitions into more of a club crowd and start dropping the usual hiphop suspects. When my man ends his first set and I get on, he heads to the bar and asks me if I want a drink - sure. He returns telling me that the bartender has instituted some sort of 5 drink free tab limit for the two of us to share - (free drinks are just a DJ way of life with us - 2.5 each is not the way it works) and we've already hit it. I stop playing and go to express my distaste to Mr. Owner, who is no where to be found. Dude has bounced without paying me yet again. I express my frustration, in less than eloquent terms, to the bartender, suggesting that perhaps I would buy my own fucking drinks if Mr Owner would paid me the hundreds of dollars that he owed me.
Long story short: the night ends with us getting paid in full and me telling a very intoxicated Mr Owner to fuck off. After this, Mr Owner follows me to the parking lot as we pack up our gear... he's slurring motherfucker's my way while telling Scotty that he is a true gentleman (this, while true, is only perceived because Mr Owner has never discussed the business end of our endeavors with Mr. Matelic. Had he done so, Scotty would have blessed him with parallel dialogue). At this point I wrap up our exit with the following exchange:
"Do you even know his name?"
"He is a true gentleman... *slurring* you are an asshole."
"Do you know his fucking name?
*drunkface pause*
"That's what I thought, motherfucker. Fuck you."
We walk off to eat burritos and talk about how great it will be to actually hang out with our girls on a Friday night.
Issue: Mr Owner is affiliated with (is the co-owner of) another establishment which has been home to a weekly that we started over a year and a half ago and that weekly has been very near and dear to our hearts. As a result of these poor business dealings, we've decided to kill that night as well.
I'm a professional and I'm through dealing with jackasses like this dude. It was truly a cathartic exit (portions of the catharsis have been edited so that I may savor them privately).
So last night before I set up (a house system never emerged in the 3 months we were involved with the night despite repeated gaurantees otherwise), I told Mr Owner that I would not be setting up until I was paid for the last week. He owed us several hundred dollars from the week prior and is the sort of cat you have to ask to pay you at the end of the night - a time at which his alcoholic ass is drunk as fuck and trying to holler at little blonde girls. He responded with a quick "sure, sure" and we seemed as straight away as we tend to get with this cat.
Sets go as usual - we start with funk for the first hour or so as their dinner crowd transitions into more of a club crowd and start dropping the usual hiphop suspects. When my man ends his first set and I get on, he heads to the bar and asks me if I want a drink - sure. He returns telling me that the bartender has instituted some sort of 5 drink free tab limit for the two of us to share - (free drinks are just a DJ way of life with us - 2.5 each is not the way it works) and we've already hit it. I stop playing and go to express my distaste to Mr. Owner, who is no where to be found. Dude has bounced without paying me yet again. I express my frustration, in less than eloquent terms, to the bartender, suggesting that perhaps I would buy my own fucking drinks if Mr Owner would paid me the hundreds of dollars that he owed me.
Long story short: the night ends with us getting paid in full and me telling a very intoxicated Mr Owner to fuck off. After this, Mr Owner follows me to the parking lot as we pack up our gear... he's slurring motherfucker's my way while telling Scotty that he is a true gentleman (this, while true, is only perceived because Mr Owner has never discussed the business end of our endeavors with Mr. Matelic. Had he done so, Scotty would have blessed him with parallel dialogue). At this point I wrap up our exit with the following exchange:
"Do you even know his name?"
"He is a true gentleman... *slurring* you are an asshole."
"Do you know his fucking name?
*drunkface pause*
"That's what I thought, motherfucker. Fuck you."
We walk off to eat burritos and talk about how great it will be to actually hang out with our girls on a Friday night.
Issue: Mr Owner is affiliated with (is the co-owner of) another establishment which has been home to a weekly that we started over a year and a half ago and that weekly has been very near and dear to our hearts. As a result of these poor business dealings, we've decided to kill that night as well.
I'm a professional and I'm through dealing with jackasses like this dude. It was truly a cathartic exit (portions of the catharsis have been edited so that I may savor them privately).
word, i'm feeling this post right now!!
last night i had to throw away the best night i've done in years! on the 4th night!
started this brasilian night here. right off the bat we were bringing about 75 people to the club. had mad female dancers all night, and we were tearing it up. at the end of the night last night, we had about 50 dancers going nuts to batucada, and the owner comes over to me and says "last call, last song", then procedes to fade out my track. then dude decides that HES THE DJ and cues up some bullshit 90's african highlife dance stuff on the cd deck behind the bar. and he plays like two songs with my dancefloor still dancing!!! so i ran behind the bar and started fading out the music. dude then trys to throw me out of the bar by force. luckily i grabbed a couple of my people and got them to check in the owner, and to cool him off a little. when i go to grab my joints, i notice that someone had POURED A FUCKING DRINK ON MY OG BRASILIAN JOINTSSSSSS. so i have to now boycott the club, and end the beautiful night prematurely.
why does shit have to be so difficult? the best night this town has had for ages comes to a crumbling halt. why? because the owner decides to hijack my crowd and become a dj. the second things get hot, some asshead has to come in and fuck shit up. fucking neverending story..........
last night i had to throw away the best night i've done in years! on the 4th night!
started this brasilian night here. right off the bat we were bringing about 75 people to the club. had mad female dancers all night, and we were tearing it up. at the end of the night last night, we had about 50 dancers going nuts to batucada, and the owner comes over to me and says "last call, last song", then procedes to fade out my track. then dude decides that HES THE DJ and cues up some bullshit 90's african highlife dance stuff on the cd deck behind the bar. and he plays like two songs with my dancefloor still dancing!!! so i ran behind the bar and started fading out the music. dude then trys to throw me out of the bar by force. luckily i grabbed a couple of my people and got them to check in the owner, and to cool him off a little. when i go to grab my joints, i notice that someone had POURED A FUCKING DRINK ON MY OG BRASILIAN JOINTSSSSSS. so i have to now boycott the club, and end the beautiful night prematurely.
why does shit have to be so difficult? the best night this town has had for ages comes to a crumbling halt. why? because the owner decides to hijack my crowd and become a dj. the second things get hot, some asshead has to come in and fuck shit up. fucking neverending story..........
damn, i hate shady owners, makes me thankfull for what i got. it seems like my regular night is at the 1 un-shady bar in town. at the end of the night the door guys gives me all of the door, minus money for the sound guy. i tip the door, tip the bar, split the money among the DJays and bounce....i wish every place was like that but i hear stories about some bars trying to take more money than the DJays. also not giving free drinks, or trying to limit them is weaksauce
good luck with finding a new gig that's un-shady, there are some dope venues out there
good luck with finding a new gig that's un-shady, there are some dope venues out there
I don't have a problem with a limit, really, sometimes folks just don't know how to act. Then again, I really can't drink like I used to, but sometimes people be drinking to excess, and they are still on the job. Not a good look, as Reynaldo might say. Our regular spot is great about comping drinks and food, but the owners at St Ex are pretty damn cool, and as musicians themselves(some of 'em) they make you feel pretty good about being the entertainment.
a real similar situation went down where i was spinning last night-
Me, Cosmo and Low Budget were djing in between sets and at the afterparty for a national hip-hop act and two little local groups. the first group was this lesbian rapper from the midwest. her dj showed up on some bullshit wanting to use my needles for the set. no way, nobody uses my needles, especially carpet munchers, so they had to do their set off of a cdj. The funniest part was the dj was pretending to scratch on the slipmat with an empty tonearm, and the singer had to beatbox some of the parts. so then i get back on, and rock it for a while, then cosmo shows up late. fuck that, i've been here since 8:00 soundcheck, playing records and you want to show at 11:00 like a superstar? needless to say cosmo took the night off.
then this local group played, and they were ok but their set was going too long so i started playing over them until they cut it short. played a long west coast set for the national act (they were from cali) and killed it - they were all giving me props. their drummer was trying to soundcheck over my shit but the owner got him to chill. they do their set - bananas. whole place is full, sold out crowd. so afterward their is an open bar and me and low budget played, and everything went well. we kept the crowd dancing until about 3, when it started to slow down. i had drunk maybe 7-8 beers at this point.
at the end of the night the promoter for the national act starts fronting on our money. we had an agreement with the label for a $2000 guarantee and they were trying to short us like $200, saying the label didn't tell the tour manager that we were getting that much out of the door (they thought the club was paying). we take it outside and we're arguing in front of the club, and the tour manager starts pushing the club owner (who is also my cousin). fuck that shit, time to get my money. luckily i keep a 9mm in the glove compartment of my truck and i'm parked across the street, so i grab my shit and slap the shit out of the tour manager from behind and when he turns around i gun-butt him on the eye socket. blood pouring out of dude's face on the ground, all of a sudden they aren't so worried about their money. the funny shit was he came up off ALL the money, not just my $200 but also like $13,000 from the safe in the tour bus! then i went and poured gasoline all over their amps and keyboards and shit, and just burned all that shit to the ground on the side walk in front of the club. maybe i was a little drunk but you know, you gotta do what you gotta do.
Me, Cosmo and Low Budget were djing in between sets and at the afterparty for a national hip-hop act and two little local groups. the first group was this lesbian rapper from the midwest. her dj showed up on some bullshit wanting to use my needles for the set. no way, nobody uses my needles, especially carpet munchers, so they had to do their set off of a cdj. The funniest part was the dj was pretending to scratch on the slipmat with an empty tonearm, and the singer had to beatbox some of the parts. so then i get back on, and rock it for a while, then cosmo shows up late. fuck that, i've been here since 8:00 soundcheck, playing records and you want to show at 11:00 like a superstar? needless to say cosmo took the night off.
then this local group played, and they were ok but their set was going too long so i started playing over them until they cut it short. played a long west coast set for the national act (they were from cali) and killed it - they were all giving me props. their drummer was trying to soundcheck over my shit but the owner got him to chill. they do their set - bananas. whole place is full, sold out crowd. so afterward their is an open bar and me and low budget played, and everything went well. we kept the crowd dancing until about 3, when it started to slow down. i had drunk maybe 7-8 beers at this point.
at the end of the night the promoter for the national act starts fronting on our money. we had an agreement with the label for a $2000 guarantee and they were trying to short us like $200, saying the label didn't tell the tour manager that we were getting that much out of the door (they thought the club was paying). we take it outside and we're arguing in front of the club, and the tour manager starts pushing the club owner (who is also my cousin). fuck that shit, time to get my money. luckily i keep a 9mm in the glove compartment of my truck and i'm parked across the street, so i grab my shit and slap the shit out of the tour manager from behind and when he turns around i gun-butt him on the eye socket. blood pouring out of dude's face on the ground, all of a sudden they aren't so worried about their money. the funny shit was he came up off ALL the money, not just my $200 but also like $13,000 from the safe in the tour bus! then i went and poured gasoline all over their amps and keyboards and shit, and just burned all that shit to the ground on the side walk in front of the club. maybe i was a little drunk but you know, you gotta do what you gotta do.
Dope shit, but you should have killed that motherfucker. You gotta send a message these days, motherfuckers don't listen.
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