"The Perfect Day For A Wedding"

It was a beautiful day in downtown Chicago, and the perfect day for a wedding. I pulled up to the valet at Pettterino’s and unloaded my gear, ready to DJ another wedding, one of hundreds I have had the honor of being a part of over the years. My pianist was already enchanting the crowd in the reception area, and the champagne had begun to flow.

I had almost two hours before I had to begin my DJ groove thang, which included the dinner hour. I leisurely set up my typical DJ set up with my speakers and lights on stands and cables tucked away out of sight. The cocktail hour was lovely, Tommy Mullener, one of my favorite jazz pianists to work with, was exemplary as usual. Having a jazz pianist, or classical duo to set the mood for an event, has always appealed to my creative esthetic, and if my clients decide it can fit in their budget it is always a superb way to start an event like a wedding.

Dinner was marvelous, and the staff at Petterino’s is professional and personable. My client graciously made sure that my pianist and I were fed and well taken care of, including paying for the valet which is always appreciated by musicians and DJs. The last thing you want to have to worry about in downtown Chicago after loading in your equipment is where to park. Kudos to my wonderful client and her fiancé for making it easy for us to offer a relaxed and fun vibe to their event. It’s nice to be appreciated, and a cool, calm, well fed and centered entertainer is what you want for your wedding.
So, after the cocktail and dinner hour everything was falling into place. I checked with the bride and she was happy, so far so good. Since we had discussed music choices and the requests from the wedding party well in advance, following the playlist, must plays, don’t plays, and special dedications was a well thought out roadmap. Fortunately the bride left me enough room to make decisions on the fly that added immediacy and the freedom for improvisation of musical choices for the dance floor, a wise decision on her part. Full dance floor all night.

At the close of the evening is where things took an unexpected turn. The bride and groom were very, very pleased with the entertainment choices, and the seamless way I worked behind the scenes to coordinate events and connect with the staff so that they didn’t have to worry about anything, I even got a fat tip for the piano player and me at the close of the evening’s festivities.
The end of the evening is the rough and tumble unglamorous part of the event that nobody ever sees, nor should they, but it was during this period that the most extraordinary set of circumstances made the my entire day stand out from any other day or event I have worked in quite some time.

Packing my gear is not the most romantic or fun part of the evening, and it is usually a time when I and the banquet hall staff are alone in our individual quests to get things squared away and ready for another day. We all have our routines down, and our way to pack up and roll out, but this day was different. This day as I readied my black gig bag to be filled with the metal speaker and lighting stands, there was a problem. A wasp had decided to make my gig bag his home. I stopped for about 10 minutes and attended to a few other pieces of business to give time for the wasp to fly away. After 10 minutes I came back, but the wasp was still there.
One thing you must understand is that most of the venues that big events like weddings take place are “all business” at the end of the night, and like to facilitate the closing of the place and getting all staff out of the building, especially independent contractors like musicians and DJs, in an expedited fashion. They don’t like to wait around! So, time is marching on and I muster up the courage to start slowly slipping polls into the gig bag, hoping that the wasp won’t get too annoyed and fly up and sting my nose. Every time I put a new pole in the bag I did so with much trepidation and anxiety, then I would take a break to make sure the wasp had not gotten too upset and ready to attack. This was taking way too long, and the banquet staff was rolling out the final tables and chairs from the room. I had taken way too much time with this situation and I had to move on. It was at this point when a Mexican bus boy passed by and looked in my direction. I’m certain even he was wondering what was taking this DJ so long to pack up and load out. I pointed to the black gig bag and said, “Bee, there’s a bee on the bag and I can’t get him off”. He came closer and looked at me and the bag quizzically. I said, “I want to get out of here, but I don’t want to hurt the bee”. This is where two very different worlds connected. This Mexican bus boy, who’s first language and view of the world was very much a separate reality from my own, looked at the wasp for a long time. The three of us stood in silence, then he turned to me and said, “Maybe he is magical, maybe he knew you were his only way out of here. If you take him outside maybe he will be free, and he will take care of you”. I was astounded. I was amazed at the words that came out of this young man’s mouth. I don’t know if he was joking or if he was serious, but I looked him in the eye and said, “Yes, maybe you’re right, maybe he is magical and smiled. I slowly zipped up the bag, my hand passing within an inch of the wasp. I winked at the bus boy, as he smiled, and rolled my cart out of the hall towards the elevator. In the elevator I said a little prayer for the creature sharing the ride with me, partially to protect myself from him attacking me. Upstairs on the main floor I rolled out the doors on to busy Randolph Street Saturday night, with the steel and smoked glass caverns, cabs and car horns, and nary a tree in sight. As we hit the sidewalk outside the restaurant, a brisk wind picked up and my trusting friend took to the sky and into the night.
The End