Promoting
nightclubs and
raves is often hectic work, I'm finding. Often hectic, usually tiring, and almost always confusing.
It is the last factor that caused me to
run around a nightclub, looking for my boss at one of the larger events we've been putting on. I knew he was in the
VIP area, so my logic was that if I find a door manned by a
security guard who turns away everyone who tries to enter, I've probably found
the correct place.
I managed to find such a place, and over the
smoke and
strobes and
noise, I somehow explained to the guard that I was one of the
promoters, and he let me in, presumably recognizing me from earlier in the evening.
It was to my great confusion, then, that I found myself not in a comfortable
open space with
couches, but in a narrow
hallway filled with
electronics. As I moved closer, I saw that there seemed to be
turntables, a
mixer, and other assorted
audio equipment around. In fact, there seemed to be a person wearing
headphones in the middle of this confusing mess, giving me very strange looks.
It was only after I stepped fully into the
corridor, looked to my right, and saw a half-thousand people start to scream and cheer that I realized I was in the
DJ booth, and they all thought I was the
headlining performer, ready to start my
set.
...
Please, dearest reader, make up your own ending to this story, as it could not possibly be less graceful than mine.