“If I show up at your door, chances are you did something to bring me there.” – Martin Blank, Grosse Pointe Blank.
This is one of those times when there are people who should be very, very thankful that we don’t call anyone out by name…because I really, really want to right now.
But rules are rules…and so this one’s going to stay generic. But you know who you are. And I know who you are. And don’t think for two seconds that others don’t already know who you are.
There is an old saying out there that you are not judged on how you treat your customers, friends, colleagues, etc. it is how you treat the receptionist, or the cashier at Meijer, or the mail carrier, or anyone that isn’t connected directly to you. How you treat them is more reflective on “who you are” than the fake smile and show you might put on for your customers.
If you are a raging jackhole, it will come out eventually, to someone, somewhere, somehow…
Well, I learned first-hand how small of a world it is this past Wednesday night, the day before Thanksgiving, the biggest bar night of the year.
See, just for some backstory, I’ve been a bar DJ since I was 22 years old. I’ve worked for the Post Bars for over 10 years, the BlackFinn in Royal Oak, done hundreds of private parties, massive Oktoberfest festivals…I genuinely love doing this:
Along the way, I always dealt with annoying drunk girl (play it now or I’m leaving!), weird guy (if you play this song, that chick will totally go home with me), stump the DJ guy (do you have something no one has heard of but me?)…but never, ever have I dealt with this ilk before.
See, there is a corner bar by my house I like to frequent, great people, nice owners, 99 person capacity, just your simple neighborhood classy dive. They never had a DJ there before, so the owner asked if I would like to DJ there once and a while for bigger events and whatnot. Sure, what’s the worst thing that could happen?
Well, I start at 9PM, play my usual 80’s mix and then “that guy” shows up…”Play (this band)!”
“Umm, this is (that band) playing right now…”
“Play another one!”
Ok, so I play another one a couple songs later…then he asks again, and again, and another one, and another one…he sends his buddies up…he comes up again…he is a grown man mind you, not a 21 year old kid, he is my age for crying out loud…I literally played 10-11 of his songs (it was early, I didn’t mind)…then the bomb drops.
“Play Jimi Hendrix!”
“Umm (looking in my computer), I so sorry, I don’t have any, I am pretty shocked too, anything else you want?”
“Stevie Ray Vaughn…”
“Sorry, none…”
He storms off.
The bartender immediately texts me that he is up at the bar screaming, “That asshole up there won’t play what I want!”
He then gets his buddies to start yelling, “You suck!” as loud as they could.
He then storms up again, “Play…some…Queen!”
I ask why he is so upset.
“Because you won’t play what I want!”
I tell him with that attitude; I am surprised he ever does get what he wants. I then proceed to tell him I am done with him and his table for the night, thanks for playing.
He then spent the rest of the night literally complaining table to table to anyone that would listen, anyone that he thought cared, ironically, most of which were my friends.
Well, the bartender then proceeds to tell me that he is in IT.
This is getting good now!
Well, guess what we find? He is a member of ITintheD.com, and Dave happens to be good friends with his boss and 8 of his co-workers.
Never in this guy’s wildest dreams did he envision that the cheezy 80’s DJ at the corner dive bar ran the IT networking group he belongs to and knows everyone he works with.
Which brings me back to my point, it’s a very small world out there. Everyone talks. If you are a complete jerk to the receptionist, well, she might be married to the CEO, she might be the girlfriend of the VP Sales, but at the end of the day, she is a person who you should give as much respect as you would expect back.
So we are begging you, please, don’t be that guy.
Until next time…