Friday, September 30, 2005

Updates and such...

In the past few days nothing of signifigance has really happened. Nobody asking if I want to fight, trying to grab their sister's ID out of my hand, or any arguments that needed to be resolved by throwing them out the door and on to the sidewalk.

I have decided that I'm going to try to update at least every other day if at all possible.

This might bring in a more diverse coverage of many things other than just the work life. But what the hell, might as well.

Temperatures have dropped in the midwest lately and many people have decided to stay home these past couple nights. It's the weekend now so let's just see if it still matters. The cold temps have been here for a couple days now. This is usually when people realize that it's not going away and they start coming out again.

It's friday night. Frat boys, loud mouths, divas, and the ever present rockers are getting their drink on tonight. Let's see what they have in store for this tiny little world.

Monday, September 26, 2005

I think you just want to fight...

Probably the number one most stupid thing I hear at the door is, "I think you just want to fight, huh?"

Of course. I mean why else would I work the front door of bars? It wouldn't be because I can use the extra cash or that I get paid well to keep people in check. I just love to fight. Nothing more or less, I just want to beat the hell out of people. I get no satisfaction out of life in anything else I do other than hurt people. (Sarcasm can be a hard thing to read at times, I'm told. Good thing most people would recognize this as that.)

The last thing I want is to get into a fight. When that happens it usually means that someone gets bloody, the cops are called, and if it's a big enough deal the bar gets closed for the night. Just think how long I'd have a job if that happened once or twice a month.

It always seems to be the loud mouth, button up shirt, little goatee, prep or frat boys that ask that question all the time. They like to open their mouth in front of their boys or their girls and try to win the louder voice competition. Here's a clue, my voice can hit 128 decibels without trying. I know this because it's been measured by a sound level meter. (Sometimes you get bored after work.)

So after the loud mouth competition is over, they usually ask the question. "I think you just want to fight, huh?"

Usually at this point I just shake my head and walk inside. It's not because I'm scared of you. It's because I'm tired of hearing your whiny little voice trying to boost your ego and look good in front of the people your with. This is when 5 out of 6 of the loud mouths leave.

Then there's that one guy. This ones usually a little stockier and yet more stupid. He thinks you went inside to clear room for him. He thinks he scared me enough that I just shut up and walked inside. He's usually the one that gets embarrassed the most. I could handle him a couple different ways but my favorite is plain and simple.

"Hey man, your not coming in so don't wait in line. In fact, nobody is coming in until you leave."

After about 5 minutes and the rest of the line asking him to leave, he leaves. Oh, and I don't really care if you take your money somewhere else. There's a line of thirty people out here waiting to get in. Their money is just as good as yours.

Actually, their money is better because they're not being a pain in the ass.

Sunday, September 25, 2005

I reserve the right....

There are times when I get distracted. I'll admit it. Whether it's a friendly female face talking to me or something's going on inside the bar I get distracted. Enough to the point that the next people in line might have to wait an extra five minutes.

This doesn't mean that when I open the door to check your IDs and let you in that you can elbow people who are walking by you. Especially when that person is my manager.

When it's Phil's night to work he's usually on the floor, behind the bar, or just relaxing. He usually walks outside once in a while to see how the line is and occasionally grabs a couple people and brings them in with him. This time as he was walking in Mr Dress Up decided that whoever was walking up behind him deserved a nice elbow in the gut.

In one solid movement Phil just looked at him, then me and said, "No."

Dress Up went to hand me his ID and I said I didn't need it. So he started to step towards the door.

"I don't need it because your not coming in."


"I said, I don't need your ID because your not coming in."

"Why the fuck not? You gonna tell me I've been standing here for twenty minutes and now I can't come in?"

"Pretty much. I'll take whoever's next in line."

The next guy hands me his ID and tells me it's just him and his two brothers. One of which is the guy that's not coming in.

"I'll let you in but he's not coming in."

Dress Up- "Man, this is bullshit, tell me why not."

"You've been opening the door and creeping people out and your elbowing people. Sad part is you haven't even been inside yet and your not going to be inside. Have a good night."

"I haven't elbowed anyone. Tell me the reason."

"I just saw you elbow the guy that just walked in. So did my manager and he told me no. I don't need a reason when my manager tells me no."

"Bullshit, tell me the real reason."

"I just gave it to you. Plus, I reserve the right to refuse service to anyone at anytime and you are that anyone and this is your time."

"This is bullshit, whats your name man?"


"Whats your last name?"


"How bout you give me your real name so I can report you?"

Phil, still standing in the doorway near me, says, "Hey buddy, you wanna report him? I'm the manager, you can report him. But he's doing his job so how bout you leave."

"Man, fuck you guys. I'm fuckin outta here, your gonna get a terrible reference from me."

Shit. Another bad reference. We might actually have to close our doors on that one.

Tuesday, September 20, 2005

Hip Hop, Hip Hip Hop - Please stop...

Working at the venue lets me see many different acts and allows me to see some great bands. Every night is usually a different genre of music but with each different style there are different styles of problems.

With the metal and hardcore scenes its usually mosh pits and drunks, sometimes pot smokers.

With hippy jam bands its usually people recording the music or video and lots of pot smokers.

With this emo sad bastard music its usually the women that are drunk and being noisy. (Those sad emo guys are too worried about shit to be a problem.) And of course, pot smokers.

Then you have the gangsta rappers. They get patted down at the front door for knives, guns, and anything else you could think of that could be used as a weapon. Same thing pretty much for the rappers and R & B nights too.

Out of all the nights we always have extra guys on for the hip hop and R&B nights. These nights are always a hassle.

The act always shows up at least an hour late, they get on stage and they'll play less time than they are slotted, and they always invite their homies up on stage to bust a rhyme or something.

For some reason these people who are paying way too much money to see such a short show always come back again too. Why?

You pay twenty to twenty-five bucks to see your favorite rapper perform for an hour and the guy shows up an hour late and performs for fifteen minutes. Does this really make sense?

If it does, I'll gladly invite you to my place for a party, gaurantee you all the booze you can drink, take your forty bucks and tell you the booze will be here in an hour and then give you one beer. Makes sense to me. Over charge you for a quarter of what you expected.

I tell you what, I'm into more of the metal scene and don't really like the new rap or r&b, but if a band I really liked pulled that shit on me I'd probly leave. You might think your the best as an act but there are a lot better acts no matter who you are. It doesn't matter if your Ozzy or your some little garage band from bum fuck Iowa. Your better than some but there are some better than you.

Then, on most of these nights the management of the band wants everything to be VIP. Close all the side rooms and the balcony and make them VIP, but leave the main stage area open for everyone.

Hmm, the main stage area where theres no chairs and tables. This way 250 out of the 300 people (who aren't VIP) can stand around for the next hour waiting for a show that is still driving to the venue. When they do this it sucks for everyone. The people can't sit and relax, the bartender in that area makes no money because theres only twenty or thirty VIPs and they're taking up space in a different VIP area, and the door staff is taking heat from everyone because you can't let them in to sit down or get a drink unless they're VIP.

So the act ended up going on an hour late because they wanted their fans to actually show up. Even though it was advertised to start at a certain time the fans didn't even show up till an hour later. To me that says something altogether. Granted, maybe they got a call and some big whig wasn't able to make it on time so they waited. But still, if some big whig can't make it on time then he doesn't really care anyway. He just wants to be a hassle so he gets in free.

At least I can say this. There were no guns, there were no fights, and there weren't many drunks. It was actually a really slow night but everyone was still on their toes for the unexpected. Last show like this we had we ended up having twelve cops run in to arrest three guys for picking a fight with one of our bartenders. Why? Because they thought he shorted them on their drink pour. Fuckin retarded.

Monday, September 19, 2005

Calling the cops on yourself is kinda stupid.

The weather has been great lately. It's been nice, cool and feeling like Halloween. My favorite holiday out of all of them. Yes, to me it is a holiday.

On nights like these I like to hang out by the door and enjoy the weather. You get to see the traffic, the people and occasionally something happens that could be funny or disturbing. On this night, the manager and I were both standing outside and noticed a group hanging out on the sidewalk talking, then they started walking towards us on the sidewalk and swinging around sign posts. As they got closer we could hear them talking.

"I can't believe they wouldn't let you back in that bar. Your not that drunk, I think that guy was just being a prick."

After hearing that Phil looked at me and told me not to let them in the bar. This is always a guaranteed way not to get into the bar your walking up to. Especially when I see you come from another bar that I know the guys there. Remember, I'm the doorman, I have the legal right to refuse you service or entry for any reason. This is one of the best reasons.

"Here ya go man."

"Sorry guys. You'll have to find another bar, there's a few others around here open late."

"What? We can't come in here? Why not?"

"We'll to start out, I heard you guys talking about how you weren't let back into the bar you were just at. Plus, my manager was out here and he heard you as well and said not to let you in."

"Bullshit man, I think your lying."

"That's nice. Have a good night guys, hope you find some fun somewhere else."

"No man, I wanna know why you won't let us in."

"I just told you. Have a good night."

After a few times back and forth the guy continues to stand there and then says, "I think you just want to fight man. Don't you? You just wanna hit me huh?"

"No, I don't get paid to fight. Have a good night."

Finally the girlfriend grabs the guy and starts to pull him away. "Come on, lets just take our money somewhere else. Fuck these guys, they don't deserve our money."

"Thank you. Have a great night."

She drags her guy away and I walk back inside. A few people came and went and about five minutes later the girl comes back and waves at me through the glass front door. So I walk over and see what she wants, expecting her to try and plead her way in.

"I thought I'd just let you know. We're calling the cops and telling them that theres underage drinking going on here."

"No prob, if you want to be a petty little bitch go for it. By the way, (insert big smile and hand waving goodbye here) kiss my ass."

I stood outside for a while after that to watch as the girls boyfriend jumps on his phone. Then after he hangs up they walk down the street and around the corner.

About five minutes later five police squad cars and a total of about ten or twelve cops are at my front door. So I walk outside to greet them. The sergeant walks up first and looks over to me. Then before he can say anything I simply say.

"Let me guess, you got a call about underage drinking."

"Why you say that?"

I then explain to him about the group and he asks for descriptions of the six people. Then he sends out four of the officers to look through the other bars for the people. Five cops go into my bar and look around.

"Actually, we got a call for a sixteen year old Hispanic inside the bar brandishing a firearm."

I gladly offer to walk through the other bars in the neighborhood with them to find the people but he says not to worry about it.

"Don't worry about it. We have their descriptions and they called 911 so we have their phone number. They'll be getting a visit sooner than they think."

Saturday, September 17, 2005

Reverse the charges!!!

So let's see. I pull the chair out from under you, grab you before you hit the ground, walk you to the door, and push you out the door. Yet, you think that your going to come back in and get your whole tab reversed on your credit card?

I really don't think so. In fact, your pretty lucky that you had already closed your tab and already had your card when I threw you out. It's bad enough you pissed off the most laid back bartender in the place by rattling off spanish swear words at him and the party sitting by you at the bar. Then you stand outside rattling off even more at me and constantly try to come back in the bar drawing the attention of four other doormen from other locales that are there for a drink.

Think about it man, you were up against a combined weight of 1000 pounds of doormen that would be happy to stop you from coming back in. Then you have the brilliant idea of telling us to reverse the charges on your tab while including such colorful words and phrases as asshole, your mothers a bitch, cocksucker, and the ever popular piece of shit.

The fourth time you tried to come in I actually had to raise my voice at you and shove you out the door. Didn't the first three times mean anything or did you think everything was cool on the fourth time?

Honestly, the rattling off in spanish didn't bother me. I could pick out certain words and phrases but thats what got the attention of a couple of the other doormen.

"Man, he's calling your mother a bitch and a whore. I wouldn't put up with that shit, you want me to go out there and talk to him?"

"What? Man, your off and you got five minutes till last call. If you want to waste your time on him don't do it for me. Besides, you got a beer on the way and I'm not holding on to it for you."

Then you got another bright idea. Maybe if you stand outside and bang on the window screaming we'd feel better, let you in and reverse the charges on your tab.

With that you got the manager's attention again and the cops were flagged down.

Of course, being the big, strong, tough guy you are, you ran as soon as they pulled up.

I would like to thank you though. You've given me a good story to tell and you gave the cops a good laugh. You almost gave some guys a good reason to let out some steam and you have proven how fast you can move when the cops show up.

Seriously, did you really think that after drinking most of the night, being a total ass to Chucky and some patrons, and insulting some women, that you would get your money back?

I'm sure somewhere your thought of highly and respected. Maybe you should stay there.

Wednesday, September 14, 2005

A little this and a little that. (Rambling)

Through all the different paths that people take you still never know where you'll end up. Many years ago I was nothing more than just your normal factory worker. Now I'm nothing more than your normal doorguy.

No matter what you do your just like anyone else that does what you do. Granted everyone is different. You might be better in one way or the other but your still in the same spot as the next guy. One of the biggest differences in everyone is who you know and what kind of person you are.

It doesn't seem like much but those two things get you much farther than you'd expect. Of course a combination of both gets you even farther in certain aspects. I mean you might know the right people but if your a prick to others that might not get you what you want.

In an example, you might come in and chat with me while I'm standing at the door and I might think you seem like a pretty decent guy. But then at the end of the night, when I'm ushering people out the door and your grabbing a woman by her arm saying, "Come on, we gotta get out of here. Where do you live?"

"I live over that way, but I don't know why you think your going there?"

It's times like these when I just walk over and tell you to leave. Usually he tries to say he's waiting for her but I just keep staring at him and telling him to leave. If I have to I'll start walking you to that door. I don't really care how cool you were when we were talking earlier, now your just scum. Get the fuck out.

I don't look for thank yous. I don't look for a 'hook up' just because I got some guy away from you. The thank yous come naturally from most women but occasionally you get the ones that think they're the shit.

"Hun, if you want a cab or something, I'll walk you out to one if that guy was bothering you."

"What you want my number or something? You think we're going to hook up just because you work here?"

"Not at all. Have a good nite."

Now I'm sure lots of women get that kind of respect from a lot of people. After all, its the midwest, there's only two things to do here, drink and fuck, right? I've lived in a few different settings. Country, suburbia, and city. They're all different in their own ways, especially the women. Which is a subject I'm not going to go in depth about here.

Basically I remember those people that give me attitude or just annoy me with their actions or words. Next time I won't be that guy that saves you from some regret in the morning.

Then again, you should never regret anything you do. Something comes out of everything you do whether it's positive or negative. I've had a few of those occasions, one really big one, but now I know better. The trick is making the best out of it or changing everything so you can.

Thursday, September 08, 2005

But the bartender is my friend....

Working the door gives you the ability to do favors for friends and employees. The employees know, just as I do, that unless you bring something to the table there aren't any real favors.

If you work somewhere that alot of employees eat at or drink at then you get favors if the favors are returned or even given out to begin with. Just because your friends doesn't mean you always get this favor.

Heres a few common sense 'no brainers'.

If your a girlfriend or boyfriend of an employee then obviously your welcome.

If you hook people up with free or discounted drinks or food on a some what normal basis at another bar or resteraunt. (This doesn't apply to offers. Everyone makes offers, it has to be somewhere employees actually go.)

If you bring something to the table on a normal basis then your good.

This doesn't apply to everything though. Granted if it's a private party your probly not going to get in. This doesn't really apply to the boyfriend or girlfriend though. If your in that situation than your pretty much gold. Then again, if your just a mistress or some person that an employees been screwing around with your not gold.

When your the friend of a friend don't expect any favors. Especially when the cover is really small. And don't just say hi and walk in to make me walk in after you. Your not high and mighty. I could give a shit less if you get bent out of shape because I walked through the club and made you pay the three dollar or five dollar cover in front of your friends. I make people look like asses for a reason. To knock you off your imaginary pedastal. The sad part is when you ask your friends to pay the cover for you because you have no money. That just means your wasting space inside the club becasue your ass is going to be drinking water or trying to get free drinks all night and annoying the bartenders because your not tipping or asking for too many favors.

"Well, I used to get in free all the time."

Times change, just like your clothes. Just because you got in free once or twice doesn't mean you will forever. Maybe your not as important as you were or maybe that person that was getting you in is tired of you. Maybe you didn't return any favors. Who really knows or cares.

Heres a big piece of advice. When your asked to pay the cover don't roll your eyes, smile and walk in. Your asked for a reason not for a joke. Annoy the doormen and you'll be paying to get in even if a favor is asked to let you in.

Tuesday, September 06, 2005

"They don't card me in New York..."

"This is rediculous. I forgot my ID at the apartment. They don't card me in New York."

"No ID, no entry. Sorry, go back and get it and it's all good."

"Forget this, let's just go somewhere else. I never get carded back home."

Now that has to be one of the smartest reasons to not carry your ID. I mean if they don't card you back home in New York obviously we shouldn't card you here where no one knows who you are. Then again this kind of reasoning also lands under, "But I drove an hour and a half to see this band. Can't you make one exception?"

Either he really forgot his ID or he's underage and making a big deal out of nothing. Either way it's not my problem. Get your head out of your ass and carry your ID. Especially when traveling you should have your ID. At least the cops like you to if they need to talk to you, or you need to get into a bar.

From what I have been told the midwest is more strict on carding people at bars than the east or west coast. Personally, I wouldn't know. I haven't been to either side since I've been going to bars. Carrying my ID on me is a habit though.

Then out of the mouth of his date.

"I can't believe you don't have your ID. What, you don't get carded anywhere?"

"Not back home."

"Well duh, your not back home stupid. Now we gotta go back to the apartment and...."

Sometimes it's nice to have someone else there to say things for you.