2020-12-02 - December Open Mic

Devlin shows up a few minutes early with a hard guitar case in hand this time. He sets it to the side by a table and then goes to get a cup of tea.

August has set himself up at a table with his tablet, probably going over the winter/Christmas inventory orders and scheduling. It's about the time of year where tree trimming from anything but a truck is a big ol' no, and they're on emergency status for the most part. Everyone gets to help unload deliveries of fake trees, or help folks winterize their allotment gardens.

He's looking a bit better than he has, so perhaps the Dreams have finally let him be for a spell; healed up, well-rested, and comfortably appointed in a black sweater with a dark red, collared shirt under it, denim jeans, and brown suede boots, with a brown leather jacket hanging on the chair behind him. He's sipping a large, soup mug-sized serving of chai and watching folks file in.

The chill of the night has Park arrive rugged up against the cold - sneakers, tights, mini-skirt, t-shirt (with 'In my defence, I was left unsupervised' on it), a fake fur-lined jacket, and beanie. Under one arm is her keyboard case - hopefully she remembered the keyboard too. "Hello everyone!" she grins to the world as she bounces in. "Isn't this exciting? I get that it's an open mic but I wonder what a closed mic night would be like? Anyone else do that?" She makes her way over to the table to sign up to perform.

After taking a few sips of his tea, Devlin sets it on table where he is at. And then he walks over to the sign in to add his name to the list. Hearing Park he shrugs, "No idea.. sounds like a question for Walter or Peanut," he dead pans. But there is a smile attempting to escape to judge from the way the corners of his mouth rise up a little. He nods to August, "Seems a certain Doctor decided that enough was enough and put a guitar in my hands that I don't have to borrow." He then settles back with his tea to sip at it.

Ellie steps up onto the stage and waves to all the familiar faces in the audience. "Welcome to another Open Mic night at Espresso Yourself. Thank you all for coming out to entertain and be entertained! Remember, if you're brave enough to get up and perform, you get a free large coffee. Be kind to your baristas." She claps for her employees who wave from behind the counter.

"First up tonight we have Park! Please give her a warm welcome!" She beckons the girl to the stage and moves off to sit with August.

It would seem there are more people carrying keyboard cases, as Scott enters with one as well. He looks around, unable to hold back a bit of a chuckle as he overhears Park's question. "That's a good question," he remarks lightly as he moves to sign up as well.

August blinks at Park's question, confused, shakes his head. He settles for smiling a hello to her, grins to see Devlin with a guitar. "Excellent. Got anything in particular picked out?" When Eleanor joins him he takes one of her hands and gives it a squeeze. "At some point I'll get Zelda to bring the girls down, and Rachel can perform, maybe." With Itzhak and Ravn they'd be a proper trio, even.

Ruiz wasn't going to show tonight, but it seems he's opted at the last minute to turn up. Ducking in from the rain, he runs his fingers through damp curls and sidesteps a small gathering near the doorway. There's a gruff-voiced greeting for a couple of firefighters he recognises, some manly backslapping exchanged, and then the cop sidles up to the counter to fetch himself a coffee while he tries to track down his favourite fiddler in the crowd.

Devlin nods to August as Park gets ready, "Yes. And I've been practicing.. finding my chords again and leaving some blood on the strings." He smiles to Ruiz, "Escaped the desk for a chance to relax, good for you." Once Park is ready, he applauds for a moment and then goes quiet when it is clear that she will start off.

Eleanor leans in to kiss August's cheek as her hand is taken. "That sounds like a great idea! As long as she doesn't feel too pressured to perform in front of a bunch of strangers," she notes in regards to Rachel. "Any excuse to see Zelda and the girls is good by me though." She waves to Ruiz as he makes his way in.

"Oh! I'm on!" Park scrambles up to the stage and quickly sets up her keyboard. "I'll just be one sec" she grins as wires are plugged in and volume checked before she finally sits down with a sigh of relief. "That's the quickest I've done something since my tooth extraction exam. Hello, I'm Park Mee. Or Mee Park if you prefer. You can call me Park or Mee, I don't mind, just as long as you call me. It's lovely to be here tonight. Did you know that an apple pie costs three dollars fifty in Jamaica and two dollars fifty in Bermuda? They're the pie rates of the Caribbean." A big grin as she waits for the silence to subside.

"This is a song I did about the Kardashians and people like them. I hope it's not too bitter. I have got in trouble with my lyrics before. Like at the arts festival at the start of the year. Oh, sorry, I better start." Park switches on a jaunty beat before singing a jaunty tune:

'Everybody loves you
Useless as you are
Everyone adores you
You're a superstar

Though you have no brains
Everything you do is fake
Though you make girls feel
Like they need a meal
Somehow you're the one
Who people dwell upon
How'd you get this place
You don't have a natural face

Everybody loves you
Useless as you are
Everyone adores you
So little went so far'

More jaunty fiddling - it's quite a poppy boppy tune - before she finishes with a flourish and a bow. "Thank you! I have downloads available of my music and the awesome band I'm in, 'Augmented Reality'. Love you!"

A certain grumpy Mexican's certain favorite fiddler swans in the door, a few minutes late for a guy who's compulsively on time. Itzhak, wearing those fitted raw denim jeans and a soft black merino-wool sweater, is a pro-level swanner. He's a little dewy from the rain, and stands there looking around at everybody, and Park already going on stage, with an expression that might prove why he's always so rigidly on time: walking into a bunch of stimulation is harder than it seems for him at first blush. Much better to be one of the first people there, it lets him ramp up. His violin case is over his shoulder, but he doesn't seem in his element for the moment, fidgeting in place.

Devlin applauds for Park and then takes a couple of sips of his tea. Seeing Itzhak enter from where he's sitting, Devlin gives the man an up nod as things are starting to get active in the coffee shop.

Leaning into the kiss, August assures Eleanor, "Absolutely no pressure," on a nod. He gives Ruiz an up-nod of greeting, spies Itzhak hovering on the threshold. His eyes narrow and a brow goes up in a sign of 'would you come over here and sit the hell down'.

It doesn't last, as Park's now up and singing. He laughs the song's lyrics; offended, no, just amused. Even the bad joke gets a laugh. It's a good night for him, for a change.

Scott is unable to hold back a chuckle as he listens to Park, first that part about the pie-rates, then as she plays the song. He smiles as he listens, unable to hold back a grin as he listens to the lyrics.

As Park finishes up, Eleanor gets up to resume the stage, applauding for the singer. "That was fantastic! I'd say put it on the internet, but I hear those Kardashian fans are kind of rabid," she tells her as she takes the mic. "Next up, we have one of Gray Harbor's very own EMTs, Devlin! Come on down!" She puts the mic back and makes her way back over to August's table, detouring to guide Itzhak that way when she sees him foundering.

Park gets off the stage quicker than she did getting on it. A grin for Devlin as he gets on stage. An acoustic guitar...that would have been so much easier! A wave for Scott and Itzhak when she sees them - fellow band members! She plonks herself down at a table to enjoy the rest of the show, still humming to herself.

Spotting Itzhak's arrival and August's upnod, Ruiz collects his drink and angles over thataway. Unless there are any objections, he'll plunk himself down into a seat at the arborist's table, and lean over to murmur something to the man before settling in to listen to the current act and sip his coffee.

Devlin stands up to grab his guitar case to walk up to the stage, leaving his tea behind. Once at the stage, Devlin opens up the case to remove a very nice looking Martin. "Well folks lets hope that no one needs my other skills this evening. And hopefully I don't end up creating patients either. Again tonight, I'll be performing a cover for tonight" He smiles with that as he then runs a quick check to make sure the guitar is in tune to itself. Followed by getting settled on the stool and getting both mics into position. "First time in public with this beast."

Devlin then starts with the opening chords that feel very E Street band and then he begins to sing.

Take me now baby, here as I am
Pull me close, try and understand
I work all day out in the hot sun
Break my back till the morning comes

Come on now, try and understand
The way I feel when I'm in your hands
Take me now as the sun descends
They can't hurt you now
They can't hurt you now
They can't hurt you now

Because the night belongs to lovers
Because the night belongs to lust
Because the night belongs to lovers
Because the night belongs to us

Devlin's baritone voice carrying a bit of passion that rises and falls with the song. The guitar complimenting his singing as he continues.

Itzhak shies away like a nervous colt when Ellie comes to gather him up. He smiles at her tremulously, mutters something about needing a cigarette, and ducks back out. Outside, he in fact lights up, takes in a deep drag, and lets it out, eyes closing, one ear turned towards the sound of Devlin's playing.

Scott smiles again as he listens to the song, unable to hold back a hum as he listens. "Nice choice," he says, mostly meant for himself.

The music continues as Devlin just sings out to the crowd.

What I got, I have earned
What I'm not, baby I have learned
Desire and hunger is the fire I breathe
Just stay in my bed till the morning comes

And again he carries into the bridge and chorus with increased passion, managing to avoid breaking when reaching for the higher notes.

Your love it seethes with doubt
The vicious circle turns and burns without
And though I cannot live, forgive me now
The time has come to take this moment and
They can't hurt us now
They can't hurt us now

And then his voice rises with the final chorus.

Because the night belongs to lovers
Because the night belongs to lust
Because the night belongs to lovers
Because the night belongs to us

His voice trailing off with the last two phases and then there is just the fading chord from his guitar as he looks over those gathered about.

August sighs, watching Itzhak flee back outside for a smoke. He gives Eleanor a sympathetic look, a gentler version of his usual apology on Itzhak's behalf: 'he's just like that, it's not you'. He claps for Park, settles in to listen to Devlin and sips from his chai. Nothing like an acoustic cover of the Boss to settle in to. He nods at Ruiz, eyes flicking to the door now and then, waiting for Itzhak to return.

When Itzhak shies away, Eleanor looks concerned, but she lets him go have his smoke. She heads back to August's table and slides in beside him. "It's Itzhak all right? He seems really off tonight." She applauds for Devlin before she gets up to take the mic again. "Thank you, Devlin! Let's have another round of applause for his work as a first responder too! Next up, we have...Scott!" She heads back to the table.

Devlin packs up his Martin and moves over to one side of the stage, remaining long enough to help whom ever is next to get set up quickly.

Park stands to applaud Devlin - loudly. "Yay!!" There is even fist rolling and whooting going on. "Everyone is so talented in this town!" she squeals excitedly before glancing around for who is next.

Ruiz also applauds as Park finishes, and keeps half an ear on Devlin's playing as he watches the little interaction between Eleanor and Itzhak by the door. A frown crosses his face, and he looks about a heartbeat from getting up and joining the other man. But opts, for now, to wait it out. The thing is, well, "He's not usually like this." But he holds, and watches, and waits.

Hearing his name called, Scott takes a few brief moments to get his keyboard ready and takes the mic. "Thanks. Before I start, let's have some applause for the great people giving us all the chance to perform like this."

He takes the last few moments of setting up his instrument, before he smiles. "I guess I should have played something I wrote, but to be honest, I didn't think of that. So I decided to play a song from the mid-70s that I really like. So please come with me, to the Year of the Cat." And that's when he begins playing, a quite nice piano intro before he reaches the part where he starts singing.

"On a morning from a Bogart movie
In a country where they turn back time
You go strolling through the crowd like Peter Lorre
Contemplating a crime
She comes out of the sun in a silk dress running
Like a watercolor in the rain
Don't bother asking for explanations
She'll just tell you that she came
In the year of the cat"

Continuing to play and sing for a while, with some piano solos in there, before he gets to the last verse.

"Well morning comes and you're still with her
And the bus and the tourists are gone
And you've thrown away your choice you've lost your ticket
So you have to stay on
But the drum-beat strains of the night remain
In the rhythm of the newborn day
You know sometime you're bound to leave her
But for now you're going to stay
In the year of the cat
Year of the cat..."

Letting that last note draw out for a while longer, before he goes silent again. "Thank you," he says, a bit softly.

Rather than a coffee, Devlin had opted for another tea. Settled at his table, he smiles as he listens to Scott perform. Other than the occasional sip of his tea, Devlin's attention is focused on the performance. Once Scott thanks the crowd, Devlin applauds loudly.

Itzhak slips back inside sometime during Scott's song. He carries with him the scent of cigarette smoke and rain in his hair and on his sweater. Without a word, head down, he preps his violin to play, tightens and rosins his bow. Finally, when he's tuned and ready, he looks up to find Ruiz, and smiles an apologetic half-smile at him, shrugging with one shoulder. He signs to him and August: one of those days, with an eye roll at himself.

Park is back to her feet, fist pumping and hollering her approval of her bandmate's playing. They should totally do a dance version of that song for the strip club. She waves Scott over to sit with her if he wishes.

Eleanor rises when Scott is finished and she heads back to the mic. "Thank you, Scott! That was a great flashback to... before I was born. But I think my dad had that on vinyl! And now, we have the best mechanic in town, who isn't half bad on a fiddle, Itzhak Rosencrantz!" She cheers and claps even as she jogs back to the table.

Devlin applauds for Itzhak as the man approaches the stage. Then he takes a sip of his tea again as he gives the man a look as if pondering something. He then smiles again and returns to his tea as he waits for the man to begin.

"He's okay," August assures Eleanor. "Sometimes he's just like this." He claps for Scott, gives Eleanor a look for the comment of her dad having the song on vinyl. "I am from the seventies," he murmurs to her, the accusation in his tone softened with a smile. He catches Itzhak's return and signing, sighs and nods. They all know how it goes; even if this wasn't Gray Harbor, everyone has Those Days, especially people like them.

Itzhak weaves through tables to get 'on stage', grinning bashfully at Ellie's hyping him up. He's really not his usual extra af self today, but as he futzes with the microphone, he seems to relax a little. "So this is my new violin," he says into the mic, holding up the instrument, which is glorious. It's made of richly flamed maple, inlaid with pomegranates and a mother-of-pearl Magen David. "Her name's Rimon. Hya Addington made her for me, because a you know, all that Gohl mishegoss. Supposed to have a real debut at Marshall's place sometime, so this is kinda a sneak preview I guess. Anyway, somethin' multicultural."

He's brought something else, a simple stomp box with a tamborine resting on it. Itzhak sets his fiddle under his chin, takes a breath, and on letting it out, rips right into a wild klezmer version of 'Joy To The World', the Christmas classic. Skirling and mad, enhanced with him stomping on that board and making the tamborine ring like crazy, he segues into 'Jingle Bells' and some kind of nutty surfer version of 'Little Drummer Boy'. All reworked to be klezmer, that famous music of the Jewish people.

Scott smiles, "So does my dad," he replies to Eleanor's words, before he gets his things and heads down to move over to Park's table now. "Hey," he offers, with a smile, taking a seat where he can still watch Itzhak play.

As Itzhak meanders back inside, and gives him that half-smile, Ruiz's consternation eases slightly. He resettles in his seat, gives the other man a little nod as he's called up and mouths good luck. Then joins in the clapping as Scott finishes his performance on the piano.

Eleanor nods to August's assurance and then winks at him when he points out he's from the 70s. "You were too little to listen to the radio when that song came out, love," she points out with a grin. Then she's clapping along to Itzhak's music.

"How are you doing?" Park grins to Scott on his arrival. "Do you think we should have stage names? You could be 'Scott Stage'? Look! It's Itzy Bitzy!!" Back to her feet to wave frantically at Itzhak, just in case he finds it hard to spot her. She gets her groove on to the Christmas carols, encouraging Scott to stand and dance with her.

August sighs, happy to see the violin out in public. It's after Thanksgiving, so he'll allow Christmas music, particularly by Itzhak. He looks askance at Eleanor, sniffs. "I'm sure I was listening to the radio at the tender age of one." But he claps along too, humming the lyrics under his breath.

Devlin claps with the music as Itzhak plays. Catching a little of the exchange between August and Eleanor he chuckles over his tea. Yup, nothing like some live music to lift spirits. Doesn't matter if it is a coffee shop or some lonely forward base over seas.

Itzhak winds up not on Christmas music, but with a klezmer version of the Dreidel song. He's sweating by this time and grinning, giving it everything. When he wraps it up, he bows with a flourish, and struts off stage. There to look kinda lost again, wiping his forehead and looking for his boyfriend and his bestie.

"Stage names?" Scott considers that for a few moments. "Hmmm... Some bands have them, I know." He gets up to dance as well, enjoying the music for now.

This isn't the music of his people, but it's rousing enough to bring a fleeting smile to the cop's face. One that creases the corners of his eyes, and sketches that dimple in his cheek that makes the occasional appearance. He sets his coffee down in order to clap for Itzhak, then pushes to his feet to go fetch the guy from the stage, slinging an arm around him and intimating a few quiet words as he draws close. Then a nod toward the booth, as if to ask if he'll join them.

Eleanor gets up one last time as Itzhak finishes and she grabs the mic. "Thank you Itzhak! And kudos to Hyacinth Addington for the craftsmanship of that violin! Beautiful! And...that's all I have on my list, would anyone else like to come up and perform?"

Park continues her cheering for Itzhak even after he stops playing. Though there is a concerned look Scott's way. "He doesn't look very happy. We should cheer him up." Though Ruiz seems to have the matter in hand. "Or maybe not. He can be happy with his friends. She sits herself back down and looks disappointed that there are no more singers. "What a shame. I hope someone else will have a go."

A teen hops up from a chair; oh no, it's that goth girl from last time, the one who did a spoken word poem about Them. Here we go again. "I would!" She has a piece of paper in hand, so either she's going to inflict more creepy horrors on them, or...no that's probably the only option.

Devlin looks over as the teen hops up, his expression one of curiosity. Then again, he did miss out on her performance the other time. there is a sip of his tea as he watches with some interest.

Eleanor blinks and manages to cover up a grimace with a cough into her hand. "Ah, looks like we have one more. Siobhan, come on up!" She shuffles quickly back to the table and winces as she sits.

Itzhak gratefully goes to Ruiz, huddles within that big arm, violin and bow hugged to his chest. He's just having A Day, this one. Whatever his boyfriend says makes him laugh and flush, however, and elbow him lightly. When Ruiz nods towards the booth, he nods and goes with him. Sliding into the booth, he hitches a little quirk of a smile at August and Ellie. "Hi," he murmurs. Then the goth girl is getting up, and Itzhak looks alarmed.

"He doesn't, no," Scott replies, before he looks to Itzhak and Ruiz. "True." He pauses as he sees the teen hop up, nodding a little again. "One more, it seems," he remarks, quietly.

August watches Siobhan, wary. He remembers last time, oh yes he does. He leans close to Eleanor when she returns to her seat, more to reassure himself than anything else.

Park doesn't know what happened the last time, so she's her usual eager self to hear what maudlin song will sprout from the Goth's lips. "Oh cool" she asides to Scott. "We're going to get some 'The Cure' or something. A capella too."

Beaming, Siobhan goes up to the mic. Everything in her outfit is stellar, from her knee-high, lace up, black leather heeled boots, to her wine red leather corset over a black lace tunic, and black, tiered, knee-high skirt. "I figured we could all do with some culture," she says, and somehow it sounds totally sincere. With a glance at the sheet in her hands, she begins:

O what can ail thee, knight-at-arms,
alone and palely loitering?
the sedge has withered from the lake,
and no birds sing.

O what can ail thee, knight-at-arms,
so haggard and so woe-begone?
the squirrel’s granary is full,
and the harvest’s done.

I see a lily on thy brow,
with anguish moist and fever-dew,
and on thy cheeks a fading rose
fast withereth too.

She's...not half bad, really. She's got the cadence down and everything. Except she's emphasizing the words in odd ways, almost like she's paralleling Glimmer users in the knight, and as for la belle dame...

Eleanor shifts closer to August as the girl begins, and whispers quietly, "Is she doing it again? Something feels....off."

It would seem Devlin got messaged as he pulls out his phone and then his eyes roll. His lips move in that classic sense of very annoyed person. He gets up quickly, grabbing his guitar to make his way out swiftly.

Park listens with rapt attention. "We could put this to music" she suggests to Scott. "We'd have to modernise the lyrics though. Like 'the squirrel's granary is full' we could change it to 'the squirrel's got big nuts'. Not sure we can sing 'Lily on thy brow' on daytime radio. That's some kind of sex thing, right? Sitting on a face. Especially when the next line is about moistness and dew. Definitely about sex." A beat. "What's a 'sedge' and why is it withered?"

"Some culture," Itzhak mutters. "What am I, chopped livah? Siobhan's probably not even her real name." That's more like himself! Even if he's doing it in self-defense, while mashing himself into Ruiz's side.

Ruiz, meanwhile, is busy squinting hard at this Siobhan chick; coffee all but forgotten, eyes a little glazed over as he appears to both focus and yet.. not. Eventually, a soft snort, and a shake of his head. "I've got an early shift in the morning," he murmurs to Itzhak. "You want a ride home, or?"

"It's a grass," August says in response to Park, tone absent.

Siobhan continues, unaware of anyone's reactions to her recitation of Keats. look, she can enjoy her senior lit class, okay? Don't judge. Who knew all those old dead guys were so extra! It's awesome.

I met a lady in the meads,
full beautiful—a faery’s child,
her hair was long, her foot was light,
and her eyes were wild.

I made a garland for her head,
and bracelets too, and fragrant zone;
she looked at me as she did love,
and made sweet moan

(She waggles her eyebrows. Oh yeah, Park, there's sex in this poem alright.)

I set her on my pacing steed,
and nothing else saw all day long,
for sidelong would she bend, and Sing
a faery’s Song.

They can't miss it, especially Itzhak, that subtle emphasis on 'sing' and 'song'.

She found me roots of relish sweet,
and honey wild, and manna-dew,
and sure in language strange she said—

Siobhan holds the paper to her chest, and like an overwrought teen, announces,

‘I love thee true’.

She sobers some, and goes on,

She took me to her Elfin grot,
and there she wept and sighed full sore,
and there I shut her wild wild eyes
with kisses four.

And there she lullèd me asleep,

She looks right at Park.

and there I Dreamed—Ah! woe betide!—

No, maybe it's Eleanor she's looking at?

the latest Dream I ever Dreamt

Or Scott and Ruiz...

on the cold hill side.

Eleanor swallows hard, and looks nervous about all this. And purposely keeps her eyes wide open because being enticed to sleep right now seems dangerous.

This poem is incredibly pornographic, even if the terms used are a bit antiquated. Park hasn't heard it called her 'Elfin grot' since she dated that guy who was really into 'Lord of the Rings'. Let's not discuss what he thought the ring was. A saucy poem by some frigid dead Englishmen is hardly upsetting to Park, but there's something about the reading itself that feels a bit ooky. If not kooky as well. Maybe Park had a busy day as she starts to feel tired. A yawn, which she immediately apologises for, before struggling to hear the poem come to a climax.

Scott keeps quiet as he listens now, letting out a breath every now and then. He glances around at the others present, then back towards the one reciting.

Itzhak doesn't seem sleepy; the 'Singing' of the 'faery Song' has his attention. He glances around, as if to check if he's the only one. Then, swallowing, he murmurs back to Ruiz, "Yeah. Please." He tries not to shiver, but, uh, it's cold in here, okay?

No it's definitely Itzhak she's looking at. Or Devlin, as he's messaged and leaves. Or August, who's keeping near Eleanor, defensive and uncertain...

I saw pale kings and princes too,
pale warriors, death-pale were They all;
They cried—‘La Belle Dame sans Merci
thee hath in thrall!’

I saw their starved lips in the gloam,
with horrid warning gapèd wide,
and I awoke and found me here,
on the cold hill’s side.

She lowers her sheet of paper to consider the audience.

And this is why I sojourn here,
alone and palely loitering,
though the sedge is withered from the lake,

Somehow she's looking at all of them at once, which doesn't make sense. Maybe she just has that performer's knack of making the whole audience feel regarded, but those with Glimmer all feel that last line in their bones, each word carefully emphasized:

And no birds Sing.

When she's done she curtsies, that same bright grin from before returning. Two other girls in the audience clap with an enthusiasm which marks them as Siobhan's friends. "Thank you! And thank you for running this Miss Lake!" And off Siobhan goes to the counter for her drink. her friends hop up from their seats, effusive with barely contained excitement. "They loved it, look at them!" one says in a whisper which isn't a whisper at all.

"Roen!" Eleanor replies as loudly as she can back to Siobhan. "I'm Mrs. Roen now!" She flashes her ring, still uneasy from the girl's recitation.

Ruiz isn't really waiting for the end of the poem. He mumbles his goodbyes to August and Eleanor and pushes to his feet, hauling Itzhak along with him as he threads his way toward the door. Time to GTFO.

Siobhan startles. "Sorry!" she calls back, and sips from her coffee. Look, she can't be expected to remember if Eleanor actually got married or not, can she? Adult lives are complex.

"Gosh, this is a long poem" Park muses. "We'll have to cut it down to single length but then mix up a longer club version. But I'm feeling a bit sleepy now. So nice to see you, Scott." She gives him a hug before rising and grabbing her gear. "It's been a fun night!" Then off she goes - probably to DJ at the strip club for a while.