Wedding DJ ****ed as a Coot

Where do I start? I could only select one nature of my review, but this dude did so much more than just provide bad service.

Eugene Savage of Savage Mobile Music Productions was hired to provide the music at a wedding that I attended at the end of September 2017. The ceremony started at 15:00. He botched the entrance of the bride into the chapel . She wanted to float down the aisle a beautiful dream of satin and lace to the rock version of the wedding march. Instead, she walked into the chapel on Shania Twain's "From This Moment On".

Fast forward to the celebrations.

Mr. Savage started playing doef-doef music at a volume that would shatter your ****, never mind your eardrums, before the last meal of the evening was had and before the bride and groom had their first dance. The music was so loud that you could not even hear the **** of honour yelling into the microphone (I know she was yelling; the bulging blue vein in her throat was pulsating and her face was a purpler shade of strangled-smurf).

The poor bride and groom (by now very weary) had their first dance to Heartland's I loved Her First. The father of the bride stepped in mid-way, because that's what Heartland's song was for. You can image that this ruined the videography and the already waning sanity of the lovely bride. Needless to say, they did not have their first dance.

Fast forward to the end of the celebrations.

Mr. Savage was so FUBAR that he fell over his equipment. It became a ludicrous display of cat-and-mouse; he the mouse, the speaker the cat. He was obviously at his wits end; his equipment kept besting him. The groom and some guests politely and patiently helped the drunken sod pack up his equipment and carry it outside to where he would await the arrival of "a friend" to drive him home (the groom would not let the befuddled buffoon drive himself). He was stumbling along behind them, more inebriated than Charlie Sheen and less shameless than Lindsey Lohan.

Fast forward to the end of the evening.

We head for our chalet down the path past the reception venue. There's a spittle of rain. Suddenly, my SO slams on the brakes. Right in front of the car, right across the narrow path, surrounded by bush, expensive music equipment is strewn. There's no going around it. In the blinding spray of the lights we notice movement; Mr. Savage's sleepy head wobbles into sight. He's wide-eyed as a bokkie on the Sani Pass. Whilst I run inside the reception venue to ask for assistance, my SO gets out of the car to get the intoxicated knob out of the path. It takes my SO, the (now very bebliksemed) groom and two other guests to get Mr. Savage and his equipment to the side of the path. Mr. Savage is teetering on top of a piece of equipment as we drive away, leaving him and the groom behind. As we reach our chalet and climb out of our car we hear the bedonnerd groom's booming voice. The windows of our little bungalow shudder with fear. Mr. Savage, apparently, told the groom that he had done nothing wrong; this was the last nail in the groom's coffin and the irate boertjie became savage.

Eventually a car drove up to where the tottering DJ sat; his cronies had arrived to collect him. We could see all of this from the little stoep of our chalet (albeit too far and too dark to actually see more than just the slumped over S-shape of the plastered DJ ), where a whole lot of us convened to rubberneck and gawk. Can you believe that Mr. Savage's cronies were as smashed as he was? On their way out they almost folded themselves around a tree. I swear their collective insobriety soused their vehicle!

It appears Mr. Savage found a jovial guest and abused his generosity; the DJ indulged one dop too many and that at the expense of not only a guest, but also a close friend of the couple.

Mr. Savage was discourteous, belligerent and unpleasant. The couple paid upfront not only for his professional services, but also for his overnight chalet at the venue. He was, frankly, ****-eyed. ****ed as a coot. Hammered. His drunken display of professionalism was abominable. His incompetence was humiliating to every other service provider at the wedding and his unapologetic intoxication exasperating to every guest.

Was I SAVAGE enough? I hope so.