Another Night on 18th St…Working at Mickey Ds

If you want to really appreciate this story…listen to the actual mix I played right here 

It’s 1:30 am on a regular Friday night in the most populated weekend spot in DC. 18th St and Columbia Avenue is where the thugs, frat boys, post frat boys, hoodrats, J.A.P.S, and regular joe-schmos stumble together every Friday and Saturday night. During the week and especially during the day, it’s a haven for writers, artists, and hipsters. Come the weekend, though, the dashikis and hand rolled cigarrettes are replaced with ties and high heels. Then you have to add in that “It’s Friday, I have to get wasted tonight!”. Then you add me, pudgy Jew, playing (in the last 10 minutes) The Game feat. Kanye, Jeezy, and Agallah (prod. by Primo).

a very friendly tie-sporting drunkard kickin it Mickey Ds style

To be honest–the results aren’t that crazy. It’s mostly just a study of human pychology. It’s also a good way to shift a good bit of bias towards drunken white people. As much as I resent black chicks talking through all of my movies in Silver Spring, I resent the awkwardness of drunken white people considerably more.

“Devil’s Pie” comes on and I see a rare site–a young semi cool looking black dude (pause) rocking to some Primo ish. Every blue moon, someone comes up and thanks me or gives props for playin the real, but the biggest response is when I drop some Wayne and Birdman (that’s pretty much as commercial as I go for current hip hop). I try to drop as much good shit as I can. Most of the drunkards don’t appreciate this new Styles P and Kweli, but I see a nerdy white dude bopping is head and the three chicks who just came fresh out the club dancing a bit as they step in the door.

Now a couple of drunken New Yorkers stumble up to me.

“Nu uh son—Mobb Deep in McDonald’s!” The one in a half opened button down shirt and skin tight jeans pulls out his wallet on some “man what should I break you off with for some Mobb Deep?! Yeaaaah—take this two dollars son”. I take the wrinkled up money and hand them a couple of flyers. “Oh shit this cat’s named Rosenberg,” the baller says to his skinny, jewier friend.

“You’re Jewish and fuck with Mobb Deep?” the maybe Jew who looks straight out of “Amongst Friends” asks.

“Umm Yeah,” I respond. A Jew who loves Mobb Deep? Shocking…..

“Where you from man?” they ask.

“DC”.

“Pshhhh DC?? Mannnn…”

“Why? You guys from Queensbridge?”

“Nah…near Bayside”.

Word…..Gangsta.

A few minutes after QB’s finest rolled out, a group of black high school kids came in and gathered around where I’m set up. One kid requested some Marvin—I obliged. Then I threw on some G-Unit behind it and before I knew it, it was like Homecoming up in this bitch. But a second later the feds ran in and shut down our party. Too many young black people were getting amped up to go go on 18th st and jake got nervous. Not to say I don’t understand at all, as any DJ in DC knows–go go can go terribly wrong terribly fast, but that didn’t seem like the case here.

.It all seems like fun and games, but the police thought these kids were reason enough to shut down the go go.
As it turned out something did go wrong outside of Mickey Ds, but it had nothing to do with my music. Some dude got jacked up right in the middle of 18th st and was laid out like Roy Jones after the Glen Johnson fight. Remember? Roy didn’t get off the canvas until the broadcast was almost over. It was bad. Who knows why this guy got beaten? Maybe he deserved it? Doubt it. It was probably just 18th St and alcohol collaborating for another classic beat down.