Showing posts with label vultures. Show all posts
Showing posts with label vultures. Show all posts

Friday, May 26, 2006

Walk on...

"No, it doesn't matter to me."

"So, a pair of hot heels says something and that's it? I can't do anything about it?"

"Nope, take a walk."

Reaching into his pocket he pulls out a wad of cash, he starts to flip out $20 bills. "There's nothing I can do to fix this?"

"Man, listen to me. You walk over to a table of ladies and you throw your arm around one and stick your finger in anothers face and call her a bitch. You upset all five of the ladies in less than 5 minutes. I was there watching it all. Number one, 5 ladies outweigh one guy. Number two, any one of those ladies has more pull with me than you do. This is the second time I've had to ask you to leave in a week. I already gave you a second chance now leave."

"This is bullshit you know that. I'll be back."

Five minutes later, I step outside because the douche is still standing on the sidewalk staring into the bar.

"Hey man, walk on."

"Fuck you man, I'm on the sidewalk, city property, I can stay here all night."

"We'll see..."

I stood out there for about 5 minutes when a cop car came rolling by. As I was waving them over I looked at the guy, "Hope you got clean underwear man."

The cops turned around in the street and pulled over by the bar. Before they were done turning the guy was a block away.

"Hey, how's it going Mike?"

"Not too bad guys, can I get you a bottle of water?"

Tuesday, August 02, 2005

Typical Nights

So the last few days have been fairly slow and dull. Standing outside of the club watching people go by is a pretty typical night. Checking IDs and charging the cover or, depending on where I'm working, just watching people have their fun.

Granted I don't mind the typical nights. It just means nothings happening and noone's being an idiot. It makes my job extremely easy. It also makes it pretty boring as well.

Through the night working in a smaller bar you get to watch the theater of life. The guys with their almost hyena like senses picking out the drunk girls and waiting for the right moment to strike. That moment seems to be right before last call.

Its funny sometimes to see who goes away with who. There have been nights when you see the little lady with the backless shirt and tight jeans walk out with the dirtiest guy. He's there with his local baseball team shirt thats been dragged through the earth and his baggy jeans that are torn. His hair looks like a giant mop, all tangled up and crusty, with a John Deere hat on and his torn up Chucks, which are untied. As the story goes if you have the right line it doesn't really matter how you look to some people when they're drunk and horny.

Through the night you'd see this same guy get rejected by the same lady about three times. Maybe it was the um-teen drinks he bought her or she just gave up on finding someone else. Either way it gives me something to observe through the night.

The cook comes over once in a while and we make little wagers on who will get blown off and who will get away with the prize. We're pretty much even in those regards.

It seems funny to watch this through the night. Makes me wonder if people really are that desperate for sex or if they really are looking for that diamond in the rough. Can't be the diamond, I think this place at closing time is way too rough for one of those. I don't mean in the tough, dirty, dank, and seedy sense.

I'm glad I gave up on that part of the industry. I've never really been the vulture type. There are quite a few out there though.