Ladies, don’t forget the AV Guy
It’s wedding season, and that means bachelorette parties.
I’ve never been to such a party, but I know what goes on: There’s lots of giggling and opening of battery-powered gifts, and then the doorbell rings.
“Why, who could that be?”
Giggle, giggle. Open door.
“Why, it’s the plumber!”
And in walks a steroid-filled guy, wearing a plumber’s tool belt, asking if someone called about needing their pipes snaked. Giggle, giggle.
He puts his boom box down, pushes play and begins gyrating around while his plumber tools dangle seductively from his belt.
The lucky bride to be soaks it all in, the theory being that as soon as she says “I do,” there’ll be no more plumbers stopping by and waving their monkey wrenches in her face, at least not ones who look like this guy – someone whose butt crack you’d actually WANT to be able to see.
Giggle, giggle, dance, dance, and everybody has a great time.
Or maybe it’s not a plumber. Maybe it’s a cop. Or an electrician. Or a gardener.
The thing is, it’s NEVER an Audio Visual Guy. Trust me, I’ve done some research on this, and there are NO AV Guy strippers out there. As an AV Guy myself, I think this is biased, unimaginative and totally unfair. And I intend to do something about it …
[BEGIN FANTASY SEQUENCE.]
BRIDE TO BE (B-2-B): Oh, wow! What a great gift. It looks sturdy, too. And all this time I thought Peterbilt only made diesel engines. Giggle, giggle.
[FX – DOORBELL RINGS]
MAID OF HONOR (MOH): Oh, I wonder who that could be? Giggle. Guess I’d better get the door. Giggle.
AV GUY (ME): Hello. I’m your entertainment.
MOH: You don’t look like a plumber.
ME: The plumber hurt his back during his limbo routine. So they sent me.
MOH: Oh. OK. Well, come on in. (To crowded room of eager partyers) Oh, look, girls, it’s the, uh … what are you?
ME: The AV Guy. Audio AND Visual, if you know what I mean.
B-2-B: Where’s the plumber?
ME: If I can just set up my sound system, then we can get started. Hmmm. For maximum stereo coverage I should really put one of the speaker stands where this couch is. And the subwoofer will need to go right where the dip is. So if you could all just hop off of the couch for a minute and give me a hand sliding it over …
MOH: Do you really need all this stuff? Wouldn’t a boom box work?
ME: No way. Horrible fidelity from those things. Now then, I think the screen should go against this wall, and I’ll put the video projector here on the coffee table.
ME: Part of my act involves a Powerpoint presentation.
MOH: Are you gonna take your clothes off, or what?
ME: Of course. Once I get the sound all EQ’d, I’m going to twist and frug in a manner which accentuates the mini-mag flashlight affixed to my belt. I’ll suggestively unfurl a roll of duct tape and then, in a feverish climax, I’ll whip out my Leatherman and, using the Phillips-head blade, I’ll seductively tighten the housing screws on my mixing console, all while slowly removing my stage blacks.
MOH: How bad did the plumber hurt his back? Maybe he could come by and just sit in a comfortable chair and wave his plunger at us?
ME: Check, check. Check one, two. Two! TWO!
B-2-B: Have you started yet?
ME: Well, sorta …
PARTY GUEST: Maybe you could tie one of us up with your duct tape?
ME: Oooh. Bad idea. That stuff really hurts when you pull it off.
B-2-B: Do you have any batteries? This thing I just opened takes 8 D cells.
ME: I’ll check in the van. I need to run out there and grab a few more things anyway. You ladies will get to be the first to witness my new 25-foot runs of XLR cable! Be right back!
[FX – DOOR CLOSES]
MOH: Maybe it’s not too late to call a real plumber.
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