DJ Nightmare: The Filming of a “Bridezilla” Episode for TV

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Here in the Myrtle Beach Area, January is a notoriously slow month for disc jockey engagements, so when in October of ’06  I got a call for a wedding to be held right in town at Wild Wing Plantation on the first Saturday of January, I was eager to pursue a booking. Happily, the Father of the Bride seemed equally as eager to retain my services, and arrangements were made to implement the planning process with his daughter, Madison, who lived out of town. In the weeks ahead, I enjoyed several telephone consultations with Madison, finding her to be sweet, enthusiastic, and very easy to talk to. Before the start of the Christmas Holidays, what she chose to include and the sequence of events for her reception were well-defined and clearly laid out on the pages of the Reception Planning Form. The blueprint for her wedding celebration bore all the signs of a fun-filled, fine time, and I looked forward to assuring her agenda would flow smoothly and her guests would be entertained in accordance with her wishes. I was in for a little, unexpected surprise.

On the day of the wedding, I arrived early at Wild Wing and proceeded to get myself positioned and ready. While setting up, the banquet manager came over to say hi and cheerfully commented how she wondered what it was going to be like to have the film crew from “Bridezilla” at this wedding. “What!?” No I hadn’t been told that WeTV’s production team would be shooting an episode for “Bridezilla!” Shouldn’t someone have let me in on this? As I was finishing my setup, about eight guys dressed in black arrived and started positioning tripods around the room. They seemed harried, like they were under the gun or something, and their presence in the banquet hall made me feel a bit unnerved. Adding to my uneasiness, a minute later, a lady approached me, introduced herself as one of the coordinators for the filming, and informed me that I was required to come with her so I could sign a release, giving WeTV permission to shoot me. I obliged her, though I was steadily growing increasingly leery. How is all of this going to effect the atmosphere during the reception’s festivities, and how is it going to effect . . . me? Oh well, nothing to do now but go with it. What would Madison be getting out of this anyway—besides being on television? The coordinator let me know: she’d be winning a free honeymoon in Jamaica.

As the guests started to arrive and settle into cocktail time, I identified the minister, Jack, who had served as the officiant and who, according to the planning sheets, was the individual giving the blessing. Jack was very happy to meet me. He wanted to know if he could get a microphone and say a few words before the Grand Entrance? I was okay with this. What could the wedding ceremony’s officiant and Madison’s family’s minister possibly say that would be inappropriate or counterproductive? With the playlist of background music on autopilot, and for the moment, putting the still bustling film crew out of my mind, I proceeded to station myself in the lobby overlooking the building’s entrance. This way I could catch the immanent  arrival of the bridal party in their limousines, be there to welcome them, see if there was anything they needed, and eventually position them in readiness for their entrance.

As limousines pulled up and folks in gowns and tuxedos began to emerge, cameramen and sound technicians descended on the scene. The first thing I noticed was how the bridesmaids appeared to be on edge. Their faces were drawn and they hovered together nervously by the rear door of the limousine where Madison was still seated. Apparently, she was upset about something or other and seemed to be refusing to come out. When the door did finally open, there she was, with tears rolling down her cheeks, peering out at the cameras and her bridesmaids. After what appeared to be a measured pause, she tightened her lips stepped out of the limo and huffed over to her mother, demanding to know if the cake was decorated the way they wanted. I’m thinking to myself, this is not the same person I’ve been speaking with, and this is just some kind of act on her part for the benefit of the show. I gently got her attention and let her know I’d be lining everyone up just as soon as she is ready. She gave me the go ahead and in accordance with the planning sheets, I assembled everyone by the entrance, got them in order and started my coaching process, detailing how to enter, where to go, and what to expect. All the while, two large cameras and an enormous microphone on a long, handheld boom are catching everything that’s taking place. I then inform the assemblage that after some special remarks by the minister, I’ll be getting the room ready to receive them and welcome everyone to the wedding celebration. I continue to explain that soon after, they’ll hear a whole lot of cheering. When they do, they should listen for their names and make their entrances as we planned.

Back inside, I ready the music for the Grand Entrance and present Jack with a microphone so he can say what he planned to say. While he is speaking I decide to make a quick, final check on the bridal party and discover they’re all in a dither. Seeing me, Madison, true to her Bridezilla role, frantically blurts out that we’re making some changes. We need to change the order! In my hands I have the Reception Planning Form, which is opened to the Grand Entrance. I take out a pen and ask what I need to adjust. She then proceeds not only to change the order, but give me additional people as well. Mind you, I’m already sweating under my arms because of all the tension I feel, with the cameramen stationed in six different parts of the banquet hall and Jack delivering some kind of unexpected speech. Now I have to hand write changes on the concisely-formatted page containing everyone’s phonetically-spelled names, which are neatly aligned for exact pronunciation and a precise presentation. After crossing out this one’s name and moving it to a different part of the page, and drawing arrows to pair this individual with a different person, and even squeeze in a new couple as a last-minute addition, the once clearly-presented page of names with corresponding titles and descriptions resembles a cross section between a doodle pad and a complicated road map. As I try to read this frightening-looking paper, I attempt to maintain my composure, which I feel quickly slipping away. While reading out the names to line everyone up for the second time, to my shock, I hear Jack loudly informing everyone inside, “We will now introduce the wedding party!” But Jack! No! Not ready yet! I’m not even inside! In dismay, I tell the confused-looking bridal party to just wait for their names to be called.

I have to confess, what happened next is kind of a blur. I know the experience of a long, untimely, pregnant pause like this one is not conducive to any kind of reassuring comfort or favorable impression. I know that in front of those TV cameras and the attendees, I was visibly shaken, that as I took the microphone, my mouth was disconcertingly dry and my voice was thin and practically devoid of expression. I honestly don’t remember how back at my console, clutching that sheet of names with all its sloppy alterations, I got through the introductions. What I do remember is hating to think how this could or would ever be featured on national television!