Swing and a miss.

In front of me stands a very drunk young man.

He's been a guest at one of the recents events i was hired to do and probably hit the bar a little too early. I'm on the pretty large stage, sorting cables and generally trying to stay focused since the gig ended later than I expected.

"Are you happy with your perfomance tonight?"

The glare in his eyes speaks volumes of his state of mind.

"Yeah, I'm pretty pleased."

My reply is pretty optimistic, since the majority of the large crowd stayed on the dancefloor all night. However, most of the older people left the party when I stopped playing live and hid behind the DJ-deck.

"Because if I were you, I would just be a wreck. Just devastated. You have to choose the right kind of music! You have to read the crowd, you know?"

With a slight stagger he moves around a pile of cables and approaches me, shirt unbuttoned and with a drink in his hand.

"Do you think people enjoyed your perfomance tonight?"

The full force of the vodka/red bull odour almost takes out my sense of smell completely.

"I'm sorry, but it seems we were at two different parties, because from my point of view the crowd was pretty wild most of the night."

He laughs out loud and makes a wide gesture to the large deserted dancefloor.

" No one enjoyed it! They were only on the dancefloor because they felt sorry for you!"

"Wow. You're actually telling me that I have the power to make people dance out of pity?"

"Well, maybe if you played some more 90's music, people would actually have had more fun."

The wide gestures now brings him to the inevitable point of spilling most of his drink all over one of the cases on stage.

"What, wait. 90's music? Are we still talking about the live gig, or did you just show up on stage to heckle my DJ skills?"

"Yeah, well you just played old peoples music and some Avicii. You have to listen to the crowd if you are gonna be a good DJ. Trust me, I know. I've thrown like 20 parties in my time and everyone has been fucking awesome!"

By now it becomes clear to me that he doesn't care about the live gig or the actual live preformance. He's upset because I don't have the same Spotify playlist as he and his cool friends have.

He glares at me and points his finger at my heart.

"Do you think you're ever gonna be a great DJ if you ignore the crowd?"

"Nah, I'm thinking about giving it up and getting a steady job instead"

"Take it from me: that would probably be for the best, man. You really don't belong on stage."

"Yeah, I know."

"Well good luck with your new job!"

"Yeah, thanks!"

Moron...