subwaydj

[subwaydj]

Subway DJ in Tel Aviv

Subway DJ ... but in a new country???

The thought filled me with dread. What kind of trouble could I get in?  Would people think I was crazy? 

I hated the prospect of the unknown and whenever I thought about DJing in Tel Aviv, I felt a block of resistance inside. I had so many “what ifs” jumping in my head that it seemed impossible. For the next few weeks I went through the preparations of scouting spaces, researching Israeli music, looking for permits etc...  all the while feeling like I was preparing for nothing. When people heard I was going to try and street DJ in Tel Aviv, they would get excited but inside I felt like I was a fraud. Sometimes I doubt myself so hard that I feel like I’m misleading people just by accepting their praise.

I hope my thoughts and experiences resonate with you. 

As always, with love, Subway DJ

Content Note: While I’m celebrating my experiences in Israel, a part of me also cringes a bit. I have love for the country, but I also have anger.  I decided to publish this post despite feeling this ambivalence and wanted to encourage people to let me know if they take issue with the existence of this blog post.

Thursday

On Thursday, March 2nd, I travelled to Tel Aviv to try and street DJ. I’m being spontaneous, I told myself. But a few hours into my trip, my situation was looking grim. I didn’t have speakers, a permit, I didn’t know where to play and I didn’t have the motivation to try.  I was unwilling to let go of the thought I should’ve brought my equipment from America, which I’d been repeating in my head for almost a month.  I decided to give in and just spend the evening leisurely relaxing by the ocean and messaging my artist friend, “how do I overcome the constant need for comfort?”.

The following Thursday, I tried again. I bussed it to Tel Aviv and sprinted to a rental warehouse in Jaffa an hour before it closed. “How much for a speaker, a stand, a table, a rope, and a cart?” I asked. It was 450 NiS, almost all the Israeli money I had.  “I’ll take it.”

The dinky cart they gave me was meant only for transporting gear from a car to a venue.  Two minutes into my journey, I hit a curb and my equipment toppled over the sidewalk. People walked by without a second glance and inside I begged please notice me, please feel bad for me. Although my cart was such a pain in the butt, it taught me a valuable lesson:  When traveling is a challenge, you feel elated just to arrive at your destination.  When traveling is easy, you feel annoyed when you don’t arrive at your destination according to plan.

A few hours later, I reached Rothschild Boulevard and plumped down on a park bench. I felt anonymous, like I could disappear and no one would notice.  It was dark and the air was foreboding. At midnight I took a deep breathe and walked up to the Espresso bar nearby, “can I use your outlet to play music?” I assumed this would be an easy ask because the worker “looked young and hip”.  The answer was a painful no.  Damn, I thought. The rejection hurt, but I reminded myself not to abandon ship.  I gathered my equipment, crossed the street and ventured further in my search for electricity.  For me, finding an outlet is like finding gold.

My search landed me at a bar named “Japanika”.  This time, the workers agreed to let me use their outlets. I began setting up outside while people asked curiously: “What’s going on?” “Are you a DJ?” “Will you play Snoop Dogg?”  I could feel the buzz in the air.

I set up my equipment and was ready to play.  This was it.  Months of stress, preparation and anticipation had brought me to this very moment.  People looked at me expectantly.

I put on ‘Snoop Dogg - Drop it like it’s Hot’ (lol) and people began to dance immediately! The empty bench area transformed into a wild street party instantaneously. One second I was alone, the next second I was in the center of it all.  People started bumping past me, almost toppling over my speaker.  The music would shut off and people wouldn’t notice. It was total chaos. 

This street party was my baby but I felt like a tiny part of it.  It was hard to let that go. A part of me wanted to yell “Hey! By the way, this was me.  This was my creation!” Whenever I spark a street party, a small part of me still craves that recognition from others.

After two hours, the party was broken up by apologetic police.  The workers at Japanika were extremely excited and begged me to return on Friday. “Maybeeeee” I said.  They pushed, “c’mon, don’t worry about the police, it’ll be fine”.  It was validating because now they were asking me to play :)

Friday

Sometimes it feels like success is waiting around the corner.  But on Friday it felt like failure with no end in sight.

I heard of a street rave in the center of town so I headed over with my dinky rig. Unfortunately, I showed up late and spent hours sifting through crowds of people unable to find an outlet.  I was surrounded by electricity and yet deprived of it. I wish electricity was a public commodity! After hours of persisting, I decided to call it quits and head back towards Japanika.  

On my way back, a guy off the street asked me what I was doing. I told him that I was trying to throw a street party on Rothschild Blvd and he said, “Oh, like the one yesterday?”  I chuckled inside because he mentioned it so casually.  For this guy, yesterday was a random street party. But for me, it was the culmination of months of stress and preparation.  Most people only experience the end result of your creation, they don’t experience the journey of failures and disappointments that led up to it.  It blows my mind how hard it is to understand what goes into someones work, and experiencing it firsthand has given me empathy towards other artists (and basically anyone who makes anything).

The main reason decided to return to Japanika was because I didn’t want to let the workers down. And when I arrived back to Japanika, the workers were happy to see me, but it was more of a “Hey, nice to see you came back” kind of thing rather than an “OMG Thank God you came back” thing like I was envisioning. They were going to sell beer and hot dogs by the dance floor and had a whole plan for where I would play and when I would start.  It felt like I was arriving at a gig: staged, set up and legitimate. It reminded me why I love street performance.  In gigs, you have high expectations and it’s very stressful when something goes wrong. But in street performance, you have low expectations and it’s a delightful surprise when something goes right :)

Inside, I felt uneasy and like the night was doomed.  I always think “trust your intuition”, but it’s never easy. And, like out of a movie, police came as soon as I started playing. They shut the party down, this time, with no apologies.  All the workers said “too bad” but business continued as usual.  The hot dog stand was still open and the beer taps were still flowing.  But for me it meant the end of a night, no income and a long journey home.  I wanted to say “I told you so” but there was nobody to say it to. I learned a big lesson this evening, a lesson that I’ve learned many times before:  When I ignore my inner wisdom to try and please others, I often end up feeling like a chump. Even worse, I began feeling a little resentful towards the workers of Japanika. I wish I had realized: even though the bar workers were giving me advice “not to worry about police,” they weren’t in my shoes.  in the end, it should’ve have been my call.  I’m so grateful however, because the police only wrote my name down and left.  It could have been worse.  Once again, I was given a second chance.

Saturday

When I woke up on Saturday, a part of me wanted to throw in the towel. I tried to make excuses in my head: “C’mon Naveh, you’ve already accomplished what you set out to do.”  However, I thought of the alternative reality of new people and experiences that I was passing up on and decided to push through. I’ve never regretted the nights where I went out and failed, I’ve only regretted the nights where I didn’t try.

I heard of a walk happening in Tel Aviv where people dress as zombies and march through town, so I took my sad cart on one final journey. The streets were quiet and eerie.  When I arrived, unfortunately, a street drummer had beaten me to the spot :/ All the zombies and camera people started gathering around him in excitement.  Honestly, I felt kind of happy for him because I knew what that felt like. However, I felt like I missed the biggest opportunity of the evening. Little did I know what lay ahead. The illusion of scarcity is: when I don’t know what else is out there, I can’t imagine that anything better exists.  

So after binge eating and drinking a cup of coffee, I headed to Allenby plaza.  I knew this was a good spot, and I was right, because a street concert was already happening :/  I got beat to the punch yet again 😭

After half an hour of lounging, I struck up a conversation with some folks and asked: “what’s a good spot for a street party?” They pointed to a cobble street: Nahalat Benyamin.  Immediately I jumped up and knew I had to go.  As I walked down, I noticed a guy wearing a wig and standing on his balcony playing music. A little farther down was a street concert. I knew this was the place for me. Climbing on poles and searching in buildings, I tried to find a working outlet.  I even climbed a ladder to reach the ceiling of a bar but to no avail. I told myself that I wasn’t allowed to stop searching, and I’m so glad I didn’t, because I eventually found an outlet in the perfect spot. I was so giddy with excitement that I couldn’t unload my equipment fast enough.

In a city like Tel Aviv, where street party culture is especially vibrant, I was worried there would be no place for a project like mine. But to my delight, once I started playing music, people started coming in waves to dance.  Yes! I thought.  It felt validating that my persistence paid off.  The dance party was starting again and people were coming up to me saying “Hey, I just came from a club but this just made my night” or “did you do this alone???” This was the grand moment that I would have missed if I had given up!  Even the people who pointed me to Nahalat Benyamin ended up stumbling upon the party and I thought this was neat.  Back at Allenby plaza, I felt like a lone crazy person carrying around equipment having a lofty idea for a spontaneous street party. Now, this was a reality.  One of the guys came up to me and said “ha, we didn’t think this was you!”

A few hours later, a girl approached me and said if I kept playing I was going to get a fine. Her friend had just received a fine for throwing a party nearby and she said the cops arrival was imminent. For some reason however, I knew inside that this wasn’t real.  And anyway, in the heat of the moment, I didn’t care.  I knew I had re-discovered my bliss and everything felt like it was going to be ok.  If I was going to have to pay a fine for it, so be it.

And in the end, no police came.  I ended the party, wrapped up my gear and went back to being random anonymous guy carrying a cart.

Not knowing many people in this city, the only community I had were the momentary connections in the spontaneous dance parties.  It’s a little sad because I’ll probably never see those people again.  On my way back home, I bumped into a stranger and had a fortuitous conversation about the importance of following your dreams. We talked about how you have to believe in your dreams so much that you feel like you’re going a little crazy.  You have to show up for your dreams, because nobody is going to make you show up but you. Only you can know where your inner compass points and other people can only guide you along your way. I feel so grateful that I’m living my dream in this life.  So many people aren’t given the chance!

Sunday

Today I will return my gear to the rental warehouse in Jaffa.  Counting my tips, it turns out I earned almost the amount I had spent on renting the equipment.  I thought this was cute and symbolic. It reaffirmed the innocence of this trip, that there was no ulterior motive, just the motive of doing the thing. Money-wise I was back to where I started, but experience-wise I felt like a new person.

I smiled to myself knowing that less than three days ago, I was doing the same walk, in the opposite direction with this horrible cart.  The future seemed dim and unexciting but little did I know what lay ahead.  Looking back now, the unknown has become the known and fear has became joy.  In me is a resounding “Yes! I am a street performer and I don’t want to be anything else!”  

I know that it will continue to be hard having conversations with people who don’t understand or respect the validity of street performance.  But if this weekend has proved anything, it’s that street performance IS valid. My resolution is to not feel shame the next time someone asks me what I do, and to keep pushing myself out of my comfort zone.

When I look back at all the times I wanted to give up, I think, wow, all of the people and experiences that were so special, would have been no-existent if I had given up.  We have the power to literally create realities if we choose to persevere.  All of the people who were dancing in the streets with me had no idea who I was a few weeks ago when I was in my Grandmother’s house calling up city offices and trying to obtain a permit, or freaking out because I couldn’t find a speaker.  But what’s so wonderful is that we can have faith that our work isn’t for nought.  

Looking back on this trip, now it’s a memory. This trip is now just another stepping stone on this journey.  And I’m glad it’s not the end.  I guess it’s important to remember that an experience alone won’t be the end all be all, but rather will be part of the growth of your character.

I hope this story resonated with you, and if so, I’d love to hear about it in the comments section below! Peace and much love to you all!

Subway DJ

[subwaydj]

Community in an Unexpected Place

By Jamie Garuti

One year ago today I became part of a community. A supportive, wacky, life-giving community. I had moved to Boston a few months prior, and was preparing to change apartments after my original living situation went south. My soon-to-be home was quirky to say the least, and I was a bit nervous stepping into it. Packed to the brim with 10 people, there was little room for personal space, and most everyone already knew each other – a breeding ground for newcomer’s social anxiety.

On my first night, New Year’s Eve, one of my new housemates was holding a dance party…in the subway. I’d never attended anything like it and my head was filled with questions and worries, but I decided to tag along with the enthusiastic crowd of people I now lived with.

A bass thudded as we stepped off the train. We followed the sound until it was all we could hear, and everyone rushed to give Subway DJ a hug. I nervously hugged him then fell into a circle with everyone else. Despite the weight of staring eyes on our group, the only people dancing in the station, I began to move.

Now, I am a terrible dancer. It’s not unusual to be poked fun at for my uncoordinated moves. But that doesn’t stop dancing from being one of my very favorite things to do. I let the music take me over, and busted out my most outrageous moves, embracing that blissful feeling that only dancing can give me.

My housemates around me joined in with no restraint. Before we knew it, others began to join until an entire crowd was twisting and jumping, shouting the words to each song. I was completely and utterly lost in the music and the crowd of people around me. I couldn’t believe that we were in a subway station, and the passing trains bringing a stream of newcomers made it all the more exciting.

We counted down to midnight, starting at 10. The crowd felt electric, fervently waiting to hear which song would be played when the clock struck 12. When Adele’s “Hello” came on, the anthem of 2015, everyone went wild. Subway DJ played his funky remixed version, making it impossible for anyone in the station to stand still.

I didn’t want the night to end. I felt so connected to the music and the people around me. Looking at my new housemate, endlessly revving up the crowd, I felt a burst of excitement knowing that many more of his dance parties would be in my future.

Subway DJ had created something truly special, so much more than a typical night out dancing. Unsuspecting people from all walks of life stepped off the train to be greeted with contagiously happy dancers welcoming them to join. People who would have never met danced side-by-side, exchanging smiles and laughs. And for me, his dance party connected me to my new community.

[subwaydj]

Breaking the Seal of Fear

I spent my last week in NYC curled up into a ball of worry and avoidance.

Even though I’ve been doing this ‘subway dj’ project for over two years now, I’m still a mess when it comes to breaking out of my comfort zone and trying something new.  Fear of the unknown holds me back hard and only recently have I noticed.  I wanted to share an insight about what works for me when I’m trying to overcome this.

On Friday I dragged my equipment through Brooklyn looking for a place to play. I had no clue what was going to happen and I was feeling unnerved. I kept getting ushered away by angry club owners who didn’t want me interrupting business as usual.  What kept me going was knowing that I just needed to accomplish one simple task, which was to set up on a random street corner and press play.  Eventually, I found a random street corner, pressed play and it was kind of a fail. No one seemed to be enthused, I made no tips, police shut me down swiftly and then I had to took a $30 Uber back home. But I accomplished my task and this morning I’ve been feeling a little bit more optimistic about things.

When I think about doing something vague and abstract, it feels huge and paralyzing.  But when I force myself to do something tangible and tiny, without the expectation that things will work out, I’m able to move forward and avoid staying stuck.  This insight has been a blessing and has been make or break in moments when I’ve wanted to give up.  Over the past two years I’ve learned that the success of this project is kind of out of my control.  I have no idea if things will work out and a lot of people seem pretty skeptical as well.  But I’ve chosen this path and in my heart I know this is what I want to do.  As long as I’m able to keep going, I don’t want to ever “close up shop” pre-maturely.  

I think fear has the power to stop us from doing what we love, and that sucks a lot.  Honestly, I don’t think I’ll ever stop being a fearful person (😭😭😭)).  But when I’m able to do something simple and keep going, fear is not such a significant thing anymore. I think we all have those moments where we break through fear, and we should congratulate ourselves when we do, because it’s really special.  And when we give in to our fear, I think it’s important not to come down harshly on ourselves, but rather, to encourage ourselves to keep trying. Having this insight has helped me see the wonderful fearless achievements of other humans beings, and to me that’s what it’s all about!  I hope you enjoyed my thoughts on this subject, and if you feel inclined, to follow my next adventures on Facebook, Instagram, Snapchat, Twitter!

Much Love 😘,,

Subway DJ

A video posted by Subway DJ (@subwaydj) on Nov 12, 2016 at 6:06am PST

[subwaydj]

NYC Trip

9 am:

It was crunch time and my roommates were leaving for NY at any moment. I had been wrapped up in a state of indecisive paralysis for a few hours now, because whenever I think of playing in New York (the place I grew up) I feel this cloud of fear in my head. It’s the same fear that I felt before playing in Harvard square for the first time and it’s the same fear that I felt before playing in the Subway for the first time. I’ve learned that pushing through this fear could lead to unexpected surprises, so I packed my equipment and jumped in the car, off to NY. 

3 pm: 

When we got there I was kind of panicking inside because I found out that NYC had strict permit laws.  I decided to play it safe and visit the local police precinct. Unfortunately, the NYPD officer at the 9th precinct had no interest in helping me out. “How can I help?” he asked,  I explained my situation and he told me that I wasn’t allowed to play music in any residential areas and that I wasn’t allowed to play music in any commercial areas and that I wasn’t allowed to play music in parks. “Sorry, I wish I could help,” he said. It wasn’t a big surprise to me and I’ve gotten used to the risk by now. So I put on my headphones and ran out of the station and into the city, it was time to search for outlets. I ran through every park and busy intersection in the East Village but had minimal luck. To my surprise, NYC has less public outlets than Boston,  I think because Boston has a thing for christmas lights on trees lighting up cute squares. At the end of my run however I stumbled upon the perfect spot: An outlet brimming with hope in the middle of Astor place. I knew that this was going to be the spot, my plan was to come back this evening with all my music and see what happened.

8 pm: 

It was time to feel nervous and procrastinate. This is the part of the night where I stare at my computer screen and doubt myself.   I watched a motivational video by Tony Robbins where he said that the best way to overcome fear is to remind yourself about what scares you more than your fear.  I reminded myself that not fulfilling my dreams of playing out in the streets of NYC was a scarier prospect than whatever was holding me back. I began jumping up and down and reminded myself of the times where I’d gone into the unknown and came out with success.  Next thing I knew I was lugging my equipment through Manhattan, on my way to whatever was going to happen. Bumping into trash cans, getting stuck on cobble stones, wearing two backpacks and dragging a suitcase and a cart, I was feeling pretty disheartened. Basically, I had no idea if I would even get the chance to play. Walking with all that stuff I always feel so anonymous and strange, people giving me semi-weird glances out the corner of their eyes when they see me walk by with my equipment on the thin sidewalks, me sounding like a broken record of ‘thank you’s and ‘excuse me’s.

10 pm:

I finally got to the spot, marked by a funny green sculpture thingy. It was time for the most thrilling or disappointing part of the evening, the part where I check if the outlet works. I had been anticipating and dreading this moment the entire walk.  I looked closely and there was a flashing red light ... not good news. I plugged in but to my delight ... it worked! I was so giddy.  I couldn’t unpack my equipment fast enough, it was like trying to unbuckle your belt when you really have to pee. I didn’t want to wait an extra second because I didn’t want to risk missing the chance to play. I ignored everything opened my computer and pressed play.  Back in the day, I would stand in front of my set up for what felt like an hour, hesitating and texting roommates and needing encouragement. Now I’ve learned that public performance needs to happen like pulling off a band-aid: instantly and without thought. And luckily as soon as I started playing, everything clicked.  Honestly, I was not expecting people to notice me or care.  I’m so intimidated by NYC people and I thought that I would be nothing special to them.  To my surprise, I was wrong. 

Once one person was into what i was doing, more people became interested, and before I knew it a party was breaking out and I was playing Calvin Harris (lol). It was way sooner than I expected and I was so happy.  It was chewing me up inside that my friends weren’t around because I wanted some witnesses! More and more people were joining and it was becoming high pressure hype.  I was running out of hits to play and was live downloading music from the internet that I was hot-spotting from my phone.  It was a mess.  People were excited at a level that I’m not used to, jumping up and down and forming dance circles. I wanted to film ever second of it, but I didn’t because I knew that the video could never capture the moment!  Finally I texted my friends to join because it was becoming unbearable. During the set, people were coming up to me as if I was hosting office hours, asking me to pose in their snapchats and asking me questions about who I was.  I looked around anxiously, my friends weren’t here yet and I knew that the police could arrive at any moment. When my friends finally came the party was going strong.  People were getting really into it, doing acrobatics and jumping on benches. One guy was throwing his shirt in the air and screaming at the top of his lungs. One of the most validating parts of the evening was overhearing people asking their friends to stay for one more song. Wow!  The party kept going, hit after hit, genre after genre, 50 Cent after Lil Jon and I was running out of songs when at last the police came.  I was sure that it was over, but to my surprise, the officer told me that “he didn’t want to be a dick” and that I could keep playing till 1am! I was on cloud nine and my friends knew it.  When the party finally ended, the officer came back to me and told me that I should get a permit so that I could do this more often.  Hell yeah!

1 am:

It was time to wrap up and try to formulate all my blissful feelings into clear thoughts.  I didn’t care what happened for the rest of the night because I knew that I had done what i had set out to accomplish. Looking back at all the jitters leading up to this weekend,  it was all worth it.  Tonight further solidified inside my heart that this was my life mission.  Nothing has ever brought me such satisfaction and such joy like this Subway DJ journey.  The thrill of DJing in public is something I didn’t know was possible and I’m so grateful that it has found its way into my life.  NYC has taught me that I have to constantly jump into the unknown if I want to continue to grow. I intend on coming back very soon, and possibly going on tour through other cities in the US! Thank you NYC for all the love and I’ll see you next time! <3

[subwaydj]

Marathon Monday

Damn! I was so excited to Subway DJ for Marathon Monday. Unfortunately, 3 Transit Police Officers shut me down hard! Here’s the full story ... :)

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On Monday morning I lugged my set - up to the T, hoping that I could beat the Elite Women to the finish line.  As I sprinted to the station, I reluctantly pushed my cart and suitcase on the bumpy sidewalk chanting to myself “I can do it, I can do it!”. 

When I finally got to Park street, there was an older man playing his strings in my usual spot. I knew that my lucky streak of getting Park street couldn't last forever, so I wasn’t too upset.  I asked the gentleman when he planned on finishing, and he pointed to the number 2 on his watch (It was almost noon at this point). I’ve never ventured farther than Park street, but I figured ‘what the heck’.  I had to wait a long time for an empty train and when it finally came, it was super awkward. I was basically blocking off half of the car with my equipment, causing everyone to give me puzzled looks. “I know, I know” I wanted to respond. But then things got worse. Two minutes into the ride, I saw 2 people behind me half-assedly try to prevent something from falling. I looked down just in time to witness my cart breaking right in front of my eyes. I was smack dab in the middle of a crowded train with my equipment spilling on the floor! I was that person, making that scene on that crowded train.  You know those times when you non - chalantly pity a stranger? Well I was that pitiful stranger. After many apologies and withstanding many aggravating pauses in the middle of the tunnel (see, when Im standing in the train car with all my equipment falling out my control, the only thing I can do is focus on my breathe), I finally tumbled my way into Hynes station.

For my convenience, I was on the wrong side of the platform and without access to an elevator.  The next 10 minutes were an unfortunate process involving me carrying half of my equipment up a flight of stairs, while leaving the other half unattended downstairs and then going downstairs to get the remainder of my equipment while leaving the first half unattended upstairs. Ironically, this was the worst time and the worst place in the Universe to leave unattended suitcases.

At Hynes inbound, I proceeded to do my usual search for a power outlet. Unfortunately, the only outlet in sight was in use by a fan, with 2 station agents standing in its direct line.  I went over to the station agents and asked if I could unplug the fan, to which they replied, “the fan’s here for a reason ...”  Thanks buddies! So I went over to the designated performers area, looked up and ... yay, there was an outlet high up near the ceiling!  I decided that I would try and plug into it, but would have to find a way to reach that high. After waiting for the station agents to move to a part of the platform that was out of my line of vision, the way that a hitman waits for a set of guards to move out of plain sight, I stacked my table on top of a crate and reached for the stars.  Luckily, I was just tall enough! But unfortunately, I could not fit into the available plugs and had to unplug a giant clock :/ (Hopefully nobody needed to know the time!)

Feeling accomplished, I finally started unpacking my s***. A dude passed by and said (with a smirk on his face and a slanted hand covering his mouth) “so is it safe to say that you’re an underground DJ?” haha, yup! After a while of setting up all of these intricate details, I was finally ready to go. I took out the mic and made an announcement to the group of passengers waiting for their next train, “Hey ya’ll, I hope you’re enjoying your Marathon Monday, I’m going to play some Electronic Dance Music today, here’s a remix of “Go Down Moses” that I’ve been working on”.  

I started playing and people seemed super amused right from the get-go. But literally 30 seconds into the song, I saw 3 Transit Policemen making their way down the stairs and towards my direction.  Seeing anyone with a green vest makes me hold my breathe, but I knew that this interaction was going to be especially bad. “Fuck Fuck Fuck” I said under my breathe, while lowering my gaze to my feet, hoping this would make them not notice me.  Unfortunately, the “look down at my feet” strategy never works. One of the Officers approached me and immediately said “you know you’re not supposed to use the station outlets right?” See, there’s this annoying rule in the Performers handbook that states that performers can’t use the station power outlets, a rule that I’ve been suffering about for half a year now.  “Well, then you gotta pack up and go” replied the Officer to his own rhetorical question.  Oh man, I was so pissed. After all of this, I’m shut down by this cop for a stupid rule that shouldn’t exist. The officer told me that I should do this kind of thing in a different venue, and I responded “but I’m the Subway DJ!” ... I don’t think he was amused.  I asked him why I wasn’t allowed to use the outlets and he told me that he “didn’t know and didn’t care”. Awesome. I was feeling super angry and I thought that if I continued arguing with the officers, they’d feel pity for me and see things my way.  Haha, I was wrong. Instead, the officer got more and more defensive.  He even threatened to arrest me for trespassing! I figured I had lost and it was all over.  The only thing I could do now was to pack up at an excruciatingly slow pace to spite them, though, they didn’t seem to mind. I was feeling sassy and told one of the officers that I was going to win and that I would be back, to which he replied, “if you’re still running your mouth you can win back your permit in court” :/ :/ :/

One of the quieter cops seemed to have a softer side and mumbled "buddy" to me when I was about to leave. He softened the blow, and I was so thankful for it.  I made my awkward exit, and carried all my s*** up and down random flights of stairs one by one, unattended and attended, then attended and unattended again. After all that however, I suddenly realized that I never needed to switch sides! Hence, I proceeded to go back right where I started, passing by the 3 police officers once again.  Awkward! But not really, because they pretended like I didn’t exist.  I waited and waited for a train, but every train that came by was super packed so that I couldn’t get on. 

Inside I was fuming and my thoughts were claiming unbearable injustice. I let out some frustration by screaming into my hoody over and over again, not caring that I looked crazy.  I was freaking angry and worried about the future of Subway DJ.  Would these cops be back?  Would they always shut me down? Will I be able to get this power outlet rule changed? Will I be able to create my own power supply?

Today was a super bummer and I definitely feel demoralized about Subway DJ. I gained some powerful insight into what it feels like when something you care about deeply is at the whims of an authority figure that couldn’t give a fuck. It feels annoyingly helpless and sucks that people go through that type of shit on a daily basis ... especially people with less privilege and in much worse contexts.

In the meanwhile, I’m going to try and fight this rule about not using the power outlets, while trying to figure out a way to generate my own power :)

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Till the next time :) ... 

Subway DJ