Showing posts with label frat boys. Show all posts
Showing posts with label frat boys. Show all posts

Thursday, September 13, 2007

Empty Promise....

"Hey man, I got four people with me and we'd like to come in."

"That's fine, you just have to wait in line and you'll be in as soon as you make it up here."

"Yea, that's cool. So we can be next in right?"

"I doubt it. There's about forty people in front of you."

"Yea, yea, what if I threw you some cash?"

"That's completely up to you."

The guy stood there in his vertical striped button up shirt, spiked hair, sandals and worn jeans. Then he looked back at his group of people, grinned a little and waved at them. The group started walking up and he pulled the door open. I put my hand on the door and pushed it closed.

"Did you not hear me? There's a line over there for you and your group to stand in."

"Yea, don't worry about it man. I'll take care of you."

"Really? Cause it's my job to worry about it. So go wait."

"Hey man, I'm gonna throw you a twenty don't worry about it. I just gotta hit the atm first."

"I tell ya what. Since you've proven what a great guy you are. You can add a zero onto the end of that twenty and then we'll have a deal. Just put the money in my hand first."

"What?! $200?? You gotta be kidding."

"Listen. You think your King Shit parading these people around so now you can either act like King Shit or you can walk away with your leg between your legs in front of your friends and all these other people. It's up to you."

He turns to his friends, "Man, fuck this place. Let's get out of here."

The best thing about douche bags like that. When they leave and complain about the doorman not letting them in; it makes the people waiting in line feel even better. Feel free to complain that I wouldn't let you and your overpriced dates in. That your frat buddies won't be coming back any time soon. That's almost like adding a bonus on to the bar and making people want to come back.

Then again... If he had $200 I would have let him in.

It's only common sense to me...

I mean if you want to act like a big shot then you better be able to be a big shot.

Wednesday, May 30, 2007

Litter Bug...

Ultimately there's always someone that walks up to the bar with food. It's just a normal thing that people do. They drink, get hungry and grab some food from one of the street vendors as they go on to the next bar. Some do it because they're hungry and some think it will sober them up so they can stay out longer and drink more. For some reason they think, if they eat, it will soak up that belly full of booze and make room for more.

So, one night a couple of guys come walking up to the front of the bar. They were the typical type of douche bags. The type of guys that either are still in college or are trying to hold on to those glamourous years of high fiving and chasing women with their abilities of spending their parents money. I think I even have a visual for this one...

I thought I did...

So when these two guys come walking up they both have food. No big deal really, I explain to them that they have to finish their food before coming in and they both nod their heads in agreement. Then they start shoving the food into their mouths and the paper plates, napkins and other things they have all fall to the sidewalk. In typical douche bag fashion they let out a little yell, give each other a high five and start to dig their wallets out to give me their ID's.

Now, I'm not going to say that this town is a clean town, everyone knows that it isn't. There's garbage all over the place and there are people that get paid to clean up after all the inconsiderate slobs. From what I understand they make really good money too. Well, they either make good money or they're doing it as a community service because they did something stupid before.

As DB#1 goes to hand me his ID, I look down at the sidewalk.

Me: "You guys gonna leave that garbage there?"

DB#1: "Uh, yea bro. We're here to drink!"

Me: "Ok.. I need you to pick up that garbage first though."

DB#1: "It's cool dude. Someone gets paid to do that. They'll get it in the morning." He then laughs and looks at his friend.

Me: "Yea, it's not cool. If you guys want to come in then you need to pick up your garbage. It's not about people being paid to clean up after you. It's a respect type thing. You leave your garbage here and it's not showing much respect for me, the bar, or many other things."

DB#1: "Dude, why you gotta be an asshole?"

Me: "Really? I'm being an asshole because I'm asking you to respect something else instead of your hair gel and your parents credit card?"

As DB#1 and I are starting our conversation I could see that DB#2 was listening very closely. In fact, he even started picking up the garbage as his counterpart kept arguing with me.

DB#2: "Alright man, is there a garbage can near by?"

Me: "There's one right around the corner. Thanks."

DB#1: "You actually picked that shit up? HA HA HA!!"

DB#2: "Yea... he's kinda right and he won't let us in if we don't."

So after I the guy picks up the garbage and tosses it I check their ID's. I tell them thank you for picking it up and they start walking in. As they walk in I walk in behind them just to take a look and see how things are inside.

DB#1 (turning to DB#2): "Man, that guys a fuckin asshole huh?"

I tap the guy on the shoulder. "Excuse me?"

DB#1: "What man? You got a problem?"

Me: "I do now. Come on, it's time to go."

DB#2 (looking at his friend): "Dude, what the fuck? You can't keep your mouth shut for a second?"

They walk out without a problem and head down the street arguing with each other like a married couple. I could hear them arguing until they rounded the corner a block away.

I don't ask for much. I ask for respect. For me, the establishment, and the people around you. At one time this was a common idea among all people. As time goes by people tend to forget the lessons that were learned by our elders. Is it the elders fault for the younger generation ignoring them or is it the fault of the peers that just let things go because that's just how their friends are?

You can choose your friends, you can't choose your family.

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.

Saturday, August 06, 2005

White Power, Frat Boys, and the occasional Sexual Predator

Granted, the neighborhood I work in is nowhere near as bad as it used to be say six years ago but theres still jag offs around.

Early in the night a gentleman walks in, I card him and he takes his spot at the bar. The night started out just like all of the others with maybe ten to fifteen people in it. The manager walks up and tells me to throw out the "bald ass piece of shit" sitting in the middle of the bar. I never once see the guy do anything or drop anything except for get up and use the bathroom.

I never question what management tells me so I go over and ask the gentleman to leave. He takes a last drink of his mixed cocktail and gets up with no question and leaves. I walk him to the door and close it behind him.

The manager then tells me that this guy walked up to another patron and lets him know that he's a sexual predator, just got out of prison, and commits crimes all the time. Honestly, why would you do that? Is it some kind of badge of honor to let people know your a piece of shit? Are you happy that you spent time in prison for what ever kind of sex crime you did?

When the POS walked out I noticed he had headed over towards a couple of the neighboring clubs. I walked out to the sidewalk and saw him standing with his ID out to go into the next door club. I spotted the door guys with my light and gave them the quick hand across the throat motion. They gave the mans ID back and told him to move on. After a brief discussion, and me waving at the guy when he looked over, he moved on.

One of the guys walked over and I explained to him what was going on. We exchanged handshakes and all was well. Nobody likes people like that in their places. Granted there are people like that out there but if your going to broadcast that shit than you don't need to be out walking around.

Frat boys are probly some of the dumbest drunks around. College kids are no matter what. They're free away from home and on their own. Nobody to answer to at home but always someone to call if the get arrested. They stand in the bar and yell "CHUG, CHUG, CHUG!" to see who can drink the fastest or countdown from ten and yell last call, for no reason.

After asking them to keep it down three times from the bartender the manager tells them their tabs closed until they can calm down. They've already rung up a huge tab on one of daddy's unlimited American Express Cards more than likely at this point. They cool down after about ten minutes and the tab's opened back up for them.

As I stood at the door and watched the crowd one of the bartenders came walking up . "I'll watch your door, go throw out those fuckin' idiots in the trucker hats."

"Walk over to the middle of the bar, you'll see who I'm talking about. They're being fuckin' idiots and starting to pick each other up. We've asked them five times to calm the fuck down."

I walked up and saw the group all with arms around each other in a somewhat little huddle. So I decided to do the same. I threw my arms up on their shoulders and laughed along with them until they noticed me. The smallest one, obviously the funny one, said, "Hey man, I didn't do it," to which they all thought was hiliarious.

"Thats great man. But heres the problem. Your causing problems with my barstaff and annoying the hell out of me with your yelling and chanting. It's time for you to leave."
"But it's not just me."
"I know. Its time for all of you to leave. One by one or all together. And don't forget to sign off on your tab, which is waiting for you at the door."

I hooked my arms under two of the guys and herded them out of the bar like sheep. Something they probly dream about nightly in their cozy little warm beds.

The neighborhood I work in was once pretty well known for its skinhead population. These days its still around but just not as much as it used to be. Working at a bar that has its own roots in the owners and managements beliefs isn't that bad. Unless you come to the bar and have swastikas tattooed on your arms. I don't really pay attention to tattooes on customers since just about every person walking in the door has them. Not counting the employees.

We had a guy in tonite that after being cut off at the bar decided to sit in a booth. The waitress not knowing the guy was cut off served him another beer. Once again I was told to remove someone. I walked over with the barback and he pointed out the guy as "the bald guy with the Nazi tats."

I walked up to the guys booth and as he was just about to drink his beer, I took it and threw it away. He was pretty upset according to his face but he didn't say much.

"Sir, its time to go."
"Juzz le me lig mi rete"
"Sir... its time for you to leave. You've been cut off and you gotta leave the bar."
"Juzz le me lig mi fuggin cigret." He then fumbles with his cigarette.
"Sir, you have to go now." I then grab his cigarettes and proceed to start helping him up out of the booth. He shrugs me off and glares at me. "Wha th fug is your probem man. I juzz wan ta lig my cigret."

It's times like these that I'm glad the local door guys like to hang out at our bar. A couple of them walked over and just stood there to see what was going on. The guy either noticed this or forgot completely what was going on. He stood up and asked for his smokes back. I replied that he'd get them back outside and started walking him to the door.

Once outside he did the normal acts of the outed. Opening the door a little and swearing, flipping me off through the glass door and then finally leaving.

I never really did find out what happened with that guy. I understood he was wasted but it also had something to do with one of our bartenders who I believe is armenian or of some other descent. I heard that the guy was talking some shit about him. I'll find out in a couple days and edit the post just for myself to remember and to shed a little more light on the subject.

All this and I'm going to pick up the busiest night of the week too.