And I had just agreed to be the DJ - the only DJ - for these parties which start around 6 or 7pm and run sometimes as late as 1am. They asked for the evenings to start off fairly mellow, so the first two hours were to be mostly lounge core and triphop kinda stuff. As the evenings rolled on they wanted to bring up the tempo, so I was to switch over to more uptempo house (as well as some shamelessly bad dance/trance numbers I decided to throw into the mix, think club mixes of Gypsy Kings and The Killers).
The first and second evenings both went well, we had a pretty decent turnout and with five open bars in full swing the crowd was definitely in good spirits (bad pun intended). During the afternoon of the third day I was told that the final party would be off the chain - they were expecting a near capacity crowd and the room would be busy all night. That night we brought the levels up and I dropped all kinds of shit, even threw down a two hour breaks set. As the evening rolled on and I was into my huge-pure-gino-beat set word came in that it was time to shut the night down and we were packed up a little after 1am. After it was all over Christine and I grabbed a few drinks with some of the guys from the event production company and called an end to a very long three days.
Nobody was more surprised than myself that the three nights went off without a hitch (as I'm about as much a house DJ as Dolph Lundgren is a ballet dancer), though I worry sometimes that this may have been the first move down a slippery slope towards a new career spinning bad arabian dance music.
The step between ecstatic vision and sinful frenzy is all too brief.