If you are a builder, plumber, taxi driver or nurse you will know how important you are to your friends. You know, the kind of friend who calls you to so you can offer your services at ‘mates rates’. My Mother-in-law is queen of this. Recently she had the misfortune of accidentally running a speed camera in the UK at ‘slightly over the usual speed’ and too see if any of my ‘friends’ could help her. Well they did, they stopped her driving like a loon for a few months.
So imagine my life as a DJ and the parties I have done free of charge. (I always assess the situation first; their job title, how much money they earn, women they know, cars etc. This defo helps the repayment process. The Ferrari 360 was my particular best earner).
This latest act of free masonry was a 13th birthday party for one of my promoter’s daughters. Now, bearing in mind I have been the warm up DJ for Calvin Harris, Mark Ronson and played to thousands across the UK this actually would not be a problem. Especially as this person had two Porsche’s, a bar and two great clubs. Not to mention the streaming amount of women on tap all of whom love vodka and LMFAO.
I also believe in the ‘Seb Fontain theory’: ‘The best DJ’s are ones who can fill a club on a Friday night, play the wedding on a Saturday and do a 50th on a Sunday’. (Sadly this tattoo did not come out too well on my arm so I just keep it on my iPhone). With this in mind I turned up to the gig armed with Justin Bieber and The Saturday’s. The venue was an outdoor terrace bar in Malta that would put many in Ibiza to shame and I was next to the bar, sadly no booze. And then the smell of free magazine perfume mixed with Lynx Africa meant only one thing; the adolescent crowd had arrived.
Expecting scraps over football and hair pulling from the girls after too much lemonade I was totally surprised at my young Maltese ravers. Each greeted one another with hugs, kisses and smiles while wearing the latest Gucci. I felt really left out, my shirt only cost €5.
The last teenage party I did was in the UK where the cake came from Asda, the DJ also from Asda and a police van had to be stationed for the rest of it’s shift. And Lord could this lot party?! Infact this hormone filled crowd danced and behaved better than some of the clubbers I’d played to this summer. I loved it.
Then a thought. A scary one. It wouldn’t be too long before my own son will be partying in his teenage years. If my friend’s daughter was having a party like this then no pressure on me! I wonder if Seb Fontaine is free in seven years time?).
Still, Rueben got a ride in a Porsche Boxster, Nichola had a great time (not to mention the presents) and I get a blast in an old 911. Oh, and the buffet was immence…
Ben Glover is 32, lives in Malta with his wife and son. He is a broadcaster/DJ and writer for magazines plus other publications. The Daddy Cool Box is currently monthly and an escapism for Dads! For more info e-mail direct: gloverfreelance@gmail.com
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