Saturday: Cinco ... hold the 'de Mayo'

"Be yourself..." Bill Crime warns casually from behind the fan of cards he's scrutinizing, he selects two from the middle, throws them down in the Crib and looks directly into my eyes: "but whatever you do...don't try to be yourself. Understand?"

"Yeah..." Teddy Bear answers thoughtfully four hours later on the phone, "Have a drink before the date. Maybe two, but no more than that. Don't get drunk, just get enough in you to relax."

"Don't worry about it" Princess shouts across the table to me some 18 odd hours earlier at Lennys, the DJ is cranking out some thum-thum-thum shake your booty beat and the crowd is still louder, "you'll be fine" she adds a reassuring smile before we both hit the floor.

I dial up Magpie for advice. Short of J-Sin he's the highest qualified 'Mack' I know. No answer. I know Aunt Bellum's not feeling good and I know what Jacques will say: "Relax. She's the one who should be worrying, not you...". It's down to me now, like it or not.

T minus one hour and i'm looking at myself in the mirror.

There's a ring around my gut. I suck it in. It doesn't help much but puffs out my chest a little. The arms are thick but not what they were when I was a Engineer in the Navy. The heads shaved down to a light shade of stubble. My eyes have dark rings around them so I look like I haven't slept in days. I splash water on my face and look back up. I'm still there.

"I can't do this" I tell the reflection.

"Fine" my reflection shrugs back, "Call her up. Tell her the dates off. Then what? You gonna spend another night locked in your attic reading comic books?"

"I do other things asshole..."

"I know, I know... hey maybe you can go online and write about how you almost went out on a date. Exciting stuff i'm sure... oh yeahhh your laptops still sick. Well I guess you can rent a movie and then masturbate yourself to sleep. Again."

"Nice" I tell the reflection and step out of the bathroom, I pick up the phone, I hesitate for a few minutes then dial her up.

"Hey you" she answers on the third ring, "you're not calling to cancel out on me are you."

Busted!

"Oh ummm...no, no not at all. Just wanted to make sure I had the right time. 7 o'clock right?"

"I might be a tad late. I can't find my lucky shirt."

"Your 'lucky shirt'"

"Yeah... it's... well it's lucky."

"Heh." suddenly I want to ask her why she needs a lucky shirt. Instead I ask if she's nervous.

"Oh hell yeah... you?"

"Me? Shhhit... naw girl, i've been looking forward to this all week long. I'm going to show you the best time you've had in a long time, y'know what i'm saying? We're gonna do this right. I got this little place by the theater, Desai Spice and the staff knows me by name. They're gonna hook us up, girl, hook us up right. We'll have a drink, i'm gonna make you laugh, i'm gonna listen to you... really listen to you... not that shit guys be doing where they just stare at your chest and nod until they hear you've stopped talking... i'm gonna listen because I want to know who you are. Who you really are and I hope you'll want to do the same... so no i'm not nervous, Babe. I'm Jack fucking Babalon! So what else you wanna know?"

"Uh... you still there?" she asks snapping me out of my revery. I shake the monologue out of my head.

"Yeah and.... yeah i'm a bit nervous."

"Good" I can feel her smile through the line, "so i'm not the only one. So see you in an hour?"

"See you in an hour" I repeat and click off the phone. I sit on the bed and lift up my left black Converse. "'Once more over the breech men...'" I quote and slowly I start to get dressed.

The once and future DJ..

So i've been playing around on the decks again for an upcoming gig at the end of June. Practicing really. Trying out some ideas. It's fun... electo-sitars and Persian drums. Tribal Fusion meets Massive Attack. Industrial Bollywood spiced with Delerium and Dead can Dance.

But sometimes I get an itch. See my favorite part of DJing the Secret Room (Dot Net) was spinning the first hour. That's when I got to play Deadbolt, DJ Shadow, Johnny Cash, the Gorillaz, the Clash, Patsy Cline and Man...or Astro-Man. By 11 o'clock it was Metropolis records greatest hits and hey that's what I was paid for but my heart was always in that opening set. So last Sunday I put the Nusfrat Ali Khan aside for a moment, poured myself a strong drink, lit up a Camel and made myself a fun little B side on that dying art known as the 'mix tape'.

So here's my set from an imaginary club night. One that let's me play rockabilly, ska, lounge, surf, protopunk, be-bop, trip-hop and whatever else comes to mind. I call it ( Jack Babalon's Sunday Cocktail Hour )