Jammy Taylor

nearly brown bread

Written – a story of high drama, tension and dam right madness!!

It’s seems as if, my world famous Djing skills, have finally become world famous. I mean; well past the days of Canvey Island Rugby club, or even Benfleet social, I’m talking BIG, Bigger than even Auntie Eileen’s 60th.

How big, well, I’ve been flown, no expense spared, 5 star treatment, first class all the way to Los Angeles to play my Tina Turner and my Jive Bunny at a big party for one of the best hotels in LA, at their main sales conference where all the most important people in the Leisure business where going to congregate from all over the world and be wined and dined and be forcefully made to dance well into the night. It was a huge deal, and a challenge I was greatly looking forward too.

So last Monday morning, I said goodbye to Blanks my little pink blanket, packed me suite, me Prada shoes and me baby wipes and I was off.

I arrived at LAX airport 12 hours later, the sun was shining, it was a beautiful day and I even managed to chat up John, the man at Herts rent a car to turn his back on the fact I was under 25 and let me take out this pretty little black convertible thingy; not quite as cute or as quick as Bettie but still nice. But the silly buggers had put the steering wheel on the wrong side of the car, what on earth where they thinking, although I soon came, Head On!! to maybe the reason why this was. I don’t think the oncoming traffic liked me too much.  Hey ho!!

Eventually, I got the gist of the whole driving on the opposite side of the road thing, it was fine, just occasionally when turning left, I just didn’t quite know where to position the car, but that was only a minor detail. I was having a great time, crusing around the streets of LA, roof off, windows down, glasses on, sparkling water in one hand, map in the other.

I must also comment on the fantastic radio stations they have there, every stations seemed just to have driving classics on them, like “The Stylistics” and “Prince”, I even got a bit of, “Stayin Alive”. It was like disco heaven.

I eventually after getting lost a fair few times, found my way to the hotel, a magnificent building right in the heart of the action, as I pulled up my little black thingy on to this beautiful marble entrance and within seconds two hundred and fifty six people ( approx) all dressed impeccably, all in the same suite, on hand trying to help me, with my bags and valet my car and I’m sure carry me if I’d so wished into the hotel, This was the business!! ;)

I had a few days off to enjoy myself, before the gig, so of course I went to the Hollywood sign and took a million pictures of myself in front of it with an array of different facial expressions, I hit the shops and the beach, and had a drive around Beverley hills to see if I could bump into Eddie Murphy or Paris Hilton or Beckham but sadly, didn’t.

Anyhow, the day finally came and it was show time, “I better bloody be good”, I thought to myself as I made my way down from my room to the giant function suite.

The room was decked out beautifully. Candle lit, flowers everywhere and a whacking great piano in the centre of the room, where some bird from the West End was also going to sing and of course there were another three quarters of a million staff all on hand to fill your glass up before you’ve even had taken two sips; all right good looking bastards too, I felt I had some competition tonight.

So there I am all dressed up in my very best, standing behind my decks playing background music; you know a bit of, “Bettie Davis Eyes” and “Hotel California” as the guest started to make there way into the room.

I hadn’t planned on eating at the event tonight; well party as I wasn’t invited and secondly, as if I didn’t like the food, (or if it wasn’t steak and chips) and I didn’t want to eat it, I would have too, to save face, but then just as that thought left my head, the lovely client came up to me and invited me to join him at his table.

How could I refuse now, he was such a nice man and had made me feel so welcome, so I gladly accepted his kind offer and joined him at his table, also making sure that the food didn’t have any nuts in it, as that would be the last thing I needed!!

I was still so nervous about getting this party right, it was the biggest gig of my carrier, so I leaned across the table and grabbed some bread out of the basket to try and take my mind off things.  I do love a bit of bread, especially with a bit of balsamic vinegar, although tonight, I just had to make do with a bit of butter.

So there I am, with my bread and butter, trying to stay calm chatting to the nice gentleman next to me, when all of a sudden, I start to suddenly feel very odd, like I had eaten something funny.

I excused myself from the table very calmly, and then my pace starts to fasten into a full on sprint down the corridor to the kitchen. Finding someone who spoke English was a bit of a challenge but eventually I got to the head chef, “ it was only bloody, Walnut Bread!!

I had checked the meal but it hadn’t accrued to me ask about the bread as well, with a deep gulp, I was like; “fuck I’m in trouble here”.

Luckily I did have my injection with me, so off down the corridor again at full tilt I went, down to the bathrooms, all be it this time with a tail of people following me like a Hailies comet, which included the chefs, security. The manager of the hotel, big Alfonzo, Gonzales and little Tony, to name but a few, all coming to see if I was ok, so there I was, trousers down, and “here goes”, as I stabbed myself in the leg, it was just like a scene from pulp fiction except a lot less blood.

Problem over I told everyone as I though I would be ok now, as everyone started to subside and all go back on with their normal jobs.

I even managed to make it back to the party, in fact my biggest problem at this point was where to put the used injection as no one would bloody touch it.

But then all of a sudden, as I started to tell little Tony, just how lucky I’d been, I felt myself start to go again, this time in a much faster and dramatic way, I stood up and started to head for the doors, down the one flight of stairs and out to the front of the hotel. At this point with half the hotel trying to help me.

I was in a real bad way, I was projectile vomiting all over the beautiful porch of the hotel, my skin was burning up, I couldn’t breathe or talk as my throat was four times the size and I was drifting in and out of consciousness.

I remember thinking to myself this is the end, and worse, that I have just been sick all over my Prada shoes. (I’ve only ever worn them once before and you know what happened that night) 

And then I remember hearing a siren and thinking, it’s ok, if I can just hold on, I’m going to be ok, just hold on James.

After what seemed like an eternity, the siren finally got closer and closer and then as I looked up with not much wind left in my sales, like a spider you have just sprayed with deodorant, on my last legs, only to see, it was a bloody, FIRE ENGINE!!!!

Great, what’s that going to fucking do, hose me down.  I’m Finished!!

They have sent the wrong bloody service. Typical!!!

But then fireman Sam pulled out his medical kit and went to work on me, and the next thing I know I’m on a stretcher, with that bag that goes over your nose, that makes it even harder for you to breathe clamped to my face, on the back of this fire engine racing towards the hospital.

At which point my lights went out and the next thing I remember is waking up in hospital, with a drip in my arm and seeing my boss’s and a few friends from the hotel happy relieved faces that I had pulled through. He really was a sweat heart.

It turns out in LA the fire brigade, also do the job of ambulance men and I must say what a bloody good job they did or I indeed wouldn’t be here writing this now.

Bloody Walnut bread, what were they thinking, what possible good thing can come of putting Walnuts in bread, other than to try and kill of the unsuspecting Dj with a nut allergy, and I didn’t even taste that nice anyway, bloody stupid idea if you ask me, it’s like saying one day, lets all drive on the wrong side of the road. Oh wait, they did!

So after flying halfway across the world, preparing for 5 days, polishing my shoes and even vaguely ironing my shirt, after all that, I didn’t get to dj after all and I’m so upset as I had this really good new Abba Megamix Compact disk I wanted to try out, I just know it would of gone down a storm.

Oh well at last I’m alive, all be it a bit spaced out from all the drugs, but it just shows you how lucky I was, and thanks to the firemen of LA I’m still here as without them, I was brown bread!!!

Fanks very much