Let’s start with the bad. I’m not even going to refrain from swearing. No matter how much planning you do, I understand that there are going to be hiccups. But I want to vomit when I think of my DJ. He’s really the only thing that I hated about the wedding.
Let me paint a background picture. I am anal. Anal with a capital A. Anal as in a four-letter word. I never lose anything. I rarely (although it’s getting harder in my old age) make spelling or grammatical errors. The DJ I selected for the wedding was named the best mobile DJ by LA Weekly. He is also the highest rated DJ on Yelp for Los Angeles. While I source Yelp often for services, I’m not going to rely on 17 five-star Yelp reviews (not a single negative review) for something as important as my wedding music. No, not this anal bitch. What was important to me was that he responded promptly to all of my emails (within minutes). He promised that he’d play music that would get old and young dancing. I sent him a list of all the requests the guests had written in on their RSVP cards. I sent him a summary of must-play songs.
I don’t remember hearing “I Will Survive,” “Pretty Woman,” “Ice Ice Baby,” Prince, Michael Jackson, or Madonna. Further, I insisted, “As you can see the majority of my guests are requesting Lady Gaga and Black Eyed Peas, can you please be sure to play several of their songs.”
His response? “No problem. I’m a professional. You’re in good hands. Don’t worry.”
The mother fucker decided to do his own thing. I didn’t realize it was his wedding! If he wasn’t pushing 7 feet tall, I would have bitch-slapped him. He failed to deliver and I’m ready to post a very negative review. What a waste of money. It would have been better to stream music on my iPod for free. DIE-DIE!