While in college, I had a radio show.  My first time slot was from 1am to 4am Sunday morning.  My format was heavy metal and hard rock.  The station scheduled shows with this format each Friday and Saturday night.  We also had a metal vault that was kept under lock and key.  A few select people received the key.  Fortunately, I was one such individual.  We also had an eclectic vinyl collection.  I found a local band from the 80s called Black Death.  It was a heavy metal band that consisted of four black men.  It was an unexpected find.   

                There were a few loyal listeners that called each show those nights.  Each listener was unique in their own way.  One such listener was named Tina.  Tina always sounded like she was high.  She would call in to the show just to talk.  She sometimes had a request or called in for a free ticket giveaway.  Tina would always tell me that if I ever saw a cute chick with a ladybug tattoo on her hand, it was her, and to say hi.  Tina would also always testify that shes not fat.

                Another listener called and requested a band called UFO (I dont remember the guys name, so lets call him Weirdo).  I looked in our metal vault and found several of their CDs.  Since I was receiving requests, I played the music.  Weirdo soon earned his nick-name.  At first, it was just normal calls for requests and to win tickets to shows.  He started to ask if I would be at shows.  Not too odd of a question, since Tina asked that question also.  Weirdo then told me that hes a wrestler, records my shows, and listens to them while he works out.  The Big-W then told me that he and his friends listen to the show.  The group of them formed their own UFO cover band.  He said that they practice at a guys barn out in the boonies.  He wanted me to manage their band, and come out and listen to their practice sessions.  I had horrific images of him telling me that I had a pretty mouth, and stated that Im too busy with school, work, and the show.  Thankfully, the season soon ended.  I requested a new time slot, changed my DJ name and changed the format.  Weirdo didnt call again.

                Another listener was Devon.  Devon was a mentally challenged individual.  He was nice enough, but could be annoying.  He would call almost every show and would always start with Can I ask you a question?  The questions were odd at times.  He once asked me if the moon was really made of cheese.  After playing a tribute to Hendrix, Devon called to ask if Jimi was really dead.  He was very sad when I said yes, since he wanted to get Hendrixs autograph.  I informed Devon that he could go to the Rock-N-Roll Hall of Fame and see Hendrixs yearbook from when he was in the 101st, since they had it on display.

                All in all, it was a great experience.  I had fun and received college credit for being a DJ.