wildcat

Natasha and I recently discussed our misanthropic tendencies, and how they were based more of group dynamics and behaviour rather than on an individual, case-by-case basis. Ironically, the meal over which we discussed this (A smoked lox salmon crepe at that weird Mysterious Parisian Crepe place on Douglas Street) gave me a rather nasty case of food poisoning the next day, in the style of a drive-by-digestive-karmic-punishment. Anyway, my point is that the misanthropy flared up a few minutes ago when one of the DJs for the Pride Prom - the difficult to get ahold of, original DJ - called me to let me know that she had to back out for personal reasons. Which of course is a perfectly good reason to back out of something, but her "help" was to "Go down to Boomtown and get someone," as if DJs just hang out there in hopes of being discovered by some down-on-his-luck Non-Profit Organization Dance Organizer. What? It wouldn't really be that big of an issue if she'd been more helpful previous to this, but there you go.

Luckily, happily, Jason has been helping me with this little enterprise; he got me in touch with two really good DJs to fill the other two time slots and when I indicated that the original DJ had backed out, I got a little message on my voicemail saying that his boyfriend had expressed interest in spinning at the prom. Faith in mankind as a whole restored, at least for the next five minutes before I, you know, talk to someone or something. Tonight I'll roam the phone lines to get ahold of the people in question and try to get something organized; seeing as how we need to get this all done. Consequently, the DJs will be given something on par with a magnum of wine or something to thank them for their aid in this damned-dirty endeavour.