Every once in a long while a club will change it's appearance or the types of events it has. Usually this is done due to a change of ownership or in hopes of making more money doing something different. Rarely the club changes due to problems with the clientele. This change shouldn't happen if the right type of security is there to enforce the club's rules. Unless the security personnel's hands are tied.
There was a club in a nearby neighborhood that made a drastic change a while back. They used to have a lot of hip hop, reggae, and house music nights. They also had live music that ranged from country to heavy metal. They tried to bring in a mix of all the different styles to keep a mix of customers. They worked like this for many years.
The hip hop nights became very popular. They started drawing in a lot of people. This particular form of music sooner or later brings in a particular type of people. People who like to wear baggy clothing, hats turned to a side, and certain pant legs pulled up to their knees. All of these are characteristics of gang bangers or wanna be gang bangers. Once enough of these characters show up there's usually different members from different gangs showing up, which is never good.
At some point after the different gangs showing up it's only a matter of time before more drastic measures start to happen. Someone's looking at someone else's girlfriend, someone bumped into someone, or someone is just wearing the wrong colors. Then the fighting, knives and guns start to be shown and all the idiots involved ruin it for everyone else.
That's exactly what happened to this club. They did too many hip hop events and the idiots started showing up there. The idiots started bringing their guns and knives. The guns and knives started to get used. The club closed down for remodeling.
Now some people might say that it's the clubs fault for this to have gotten that bad. In fact, I'm pretty sure I've said it a few times myself. The club should have gotten metal detectors or i.d. scanners. That might have scared off some of the problems. Instead, the club closed down and remodeled the entire place. They even went so far as to stop all live music.
Now I don't know if the problems were the entire reason behind the remodeling. I don't have the inside track but to me they're just as good as anything else. In fact, other people had the same idea.
As I stood outside of my doorway a skinny black guy with his pants hanging below his ass walked up to me. He didn't look familiar at all. With the club I mentioned above closing we've started to get a lot of newer faces in the area. No doubt they're looking for another club in the area that is hip hop friendly. When he walked up I asked for his i.d. and he presented it.
"Yo man, you got beats in here?"
"Do we have what?"
"Beats man, you know, hip hop an shit."
"No," which was a partial lie, we do have some hip hop on the juke box.
"No? Shit... hey man, you hear bout Sound Club?"
"I heard they remodeled."
"Yea, that some bullshit man. Justa keep us out. Wha you think bout that?"
"I think it's great."
"Wha!? It some fuckin bullshit man..."
"No, the bullshit is the idiot gang bangers and their guns. You think I want that kind of shit in here?"
"Wha eva man.. they jus tryin gentrification us."
At this point I was confused. Why wouldn't the bar try to better themselves? "Seriously man?"
"Fuck yea.. just tryin to keep tha niggas down is all. Can I go in here or what?"
"Yea... just pull your pants up. We have a dress code."
With that the guy stared at me, waved his hand at me and walked off. I couldn't help but laugh a little bit. Here he was trying to seem like he was smart. Makes me wonder if he heard someone else use that word earlier and people agreed with that person. He used it so it must be the right word to use...
Gentrification is basically when you take something bad and turn it into something better. So here he was admitting to being something bad and not wanting to become better.
What a great state of mind.
Friday, June 13, 2008
Monday, June 09, 2008
The Incoherent Mind...
I don't understand a lot of people. I guess that's just how I work. I see things, a lot of things. It's what I do. I watch and talk to a lot of people. I see the things they do and I notice a lot about people. I paste the events together and I get to see a lot of the darker side of them. I see a lot of the bad and not a lot of the good. I also see a few people in the opposite way and even fewer in both.
A friend of mine just went through a rough time. She had to kick her boyfriend out of their apartment. I knew it was going to happen sooner or later and I'm glad it did. He was a slacker and very much still a 12 year old.
He would come into the establishment on some of her nights. He would complain if she didn't pay enough attention to him. He would follow her from table to table as she waitressed and hang on her. He even dry humped her as she was trying to take orders on occasion. I tried to talk to her about it but she was overcome by the attention and was actually happy about it.
As time went on he got worse. His drinking got heavier and he became even more childish with every drink. Next thing you know he's taking his shirt off and acting like a monkey.
One night I pulled him out and around the side of the establishment. I had flashbacks of my father as I had one hand on his shoulder and my right index finger about a half an inch away from his eyeball.
"Listen to me. Quit fucking up in here."
"What? I'm just having a good time, people are laughing."
"I don't give a fuck who's laughing and who's trying to have a good time. I'm telling you to straighten the fuck up."
"Mike... listen man, we're just having a good time.."
At this point I squeezed his shoulder and dug my thumb in to hit the pressure point right in the area of where his shoulder meets his neck.
"Good time? At who's expense??" He started to talk and I squeezed that pressure point more and his knees started to buckle. "Listen to me now. Shut your fuckin mouth and listen. You take your shirt off one more time, you follow her around all night, or even think about dry humping her in front of customers and your ass will be out here faster than you've ever imagined it could be. You've only been allowed to slide this far because of her. Your sliding days are over. I don't give a shit who you are anymore. Now your just another piece of shit."
"But she likes the attention... she said it makes her feel better when I'm here..."
"You really fuckin believe that by degrading her it's a good thing? Are you fuckin stupid? I don't care what she says. Do that shit at home, don't ever do it here again. I'll lay your ass down on this sidewalk."
A month or two later I found out that he wasn't paying his bills or his part of the rent. I didn't hear it from Maria, I heard it from other staff members. I guess after I treated her boyfriend like a 6 year old she didn't want to talk to me about him anymore. She was afraid I might have another talk with him on a more serious matter, so I waited.
A couple more months went by and I heard about it again. He still wasn't paying his bills or his half of the rent. He works in the industry as well and he works at a fairly busy place. I kept wondering why he couldn't pay his share. It started to bother me even more when I kept hearing Maria say she couldn't do certain things because she was juggling bills. I've known Maria for a few years now and she never once had a problem with bills and such. I could also tell when she was upset.
One night her boyfriend came walking up with a few co-workers. He was all smiles as they walked up. I said hello to most of the co-workers and then it was his turn to walk in. He put his hand out for me to shake. I took a good look at him and said, "You need to make sure you scrub your face after work." Either he didn't hear me or he didn't care, under his nose was a white powdery substance.
That's when a lot more things started to come to light. I always figured he was either hyper active or a coke head but now I knew for sure. The little bastard wasn't paying his bills because he was snorting it all away.
As time went on he'd be quiet and every once in a while I'd have to set him off to the side. Information on what was going on was becoming more scarce as Maria quit talking to certain people. As information became less available I had to start interpreting things.
Maria started to become more lax at work. She was never a drinker or a drug user the whole time I've known her. Now all of a sudden she was drinking more and she was even smoking weed. It started to draw even more attention to her. I tried to talk to her about it and her answer usually entailed trying to fit in with her boyfriend and his friends. This just blew my mind. I can fully understand doing new things to fit in with your significant other. I can't understand drinking or doing drugs to fit in. To me that's just a sign of a weakness.
Finally a night came when there was a foul smell in the air. With the smoking ban it's very easy to smell cigarettes or any other funky smelling fumes. Low and behold, in the back of the establishment at one of the tables, the boy had a one hitter and was smoking weed. He was automatically ejected from the establishment. When I asked why I was told that Maria asked Casper not to tell me why. I told Casper to tell me because I'd find out anyways.
The next night he came by and I pulled him to the side again. He tried to apologize and I interrupted.
"Shut up. I don't ever want to hear the words I'm sorry come out of your mouth again. You wouldn't be doing this shit if you were. Don't you understand that when you fuck up in here, you don't just make you look bad, you make Maria look bad too?"
"But.. what?"
"Your her fuckin boyfriend. Your the one she chooses to be with and you make her look like a fuckin idiot for being with you. Your actions make people think less of her."
"No.. listen man, I was really fucked up that night..."
"Is that your fuckin excuse for not paying your bills? Is it your excuse for walking up here with coke all over your face? For taking your clothes off? For being a fuckin dirtbag? You know you can't be smoking weed in here. You know you can't be fuckin around. This is the last time I'm talking to you about any of this."
"Ok, ok... can I go inside?"
He went inside and ten minutes later he and Maria are outside arguing for a few minutes and he left. Maria didn't talk to me for a few days after that. Paulie and I had several talks about him and about how the next time would be the last time we'd put up with his bullshit. Boyfriend or not some one has to draw a line and since this is a work place we were ready to do that.
A few weeks later another incident occurred. This time it involved a regular punching the boy. Seems he was trying to push the regulars buttons and pushed it well enough that the regular pushed back, with his fist. The boy was removed and told not to come back.
Maria seemed much happier at work after that. She even started smiling and laughing more than she had been in the past month or two. Next thing you know, she's telling me about how she's kicking the boy out of the apartment and that they're broken up. I told her that it was the right thing to do and if she needed any help dealing with him to let me know.
She told me about the money he owed her. I told her to keep certain things of his until he paid up or to just keep enough of his things to kind of settle the debt. Conveniently he doesn't own anything of value.
Hopefully he starts paying back some of this money he owes her. Then again, I wouldn't mind having another talk with him. Maybe drive a few more points home and instill them into his head.
A friend of mine just went through a rough time. She had to kick her boyfriend out of their apartment. I knew it was going to happen sooner or later and I'm glad it did. He was a slacker and very much still a 12 year old.
He would come into the establishment on some of her nights. He would complain if she didn't pay enough attention to him. He would follow her from table to table as she waitressed and hang on her. He even dry humped her as she was trying to take orders on occasion. I tried to talk to her about it but she was overcome by the attention and was actually happy about it.
As time went on he got worse. His drinking got heavier and he became even more childish with every drink. Next thing you know he's taking his shirt off and acting like a monkey.
One night I pulled him out and around the side of the establishment. I had flashbacks of my father as I had one hand on his shoulder and my right index finger about a half an inch away from his eyeball.
"Listen to me. Quit fucking up in here."
"What? I'm just having a good time, people are laughing."
"I don't give a fuck who's laughing and who's trying to have a good time. I'm telling you to straighten the fuck up."
"Mike... listen man, we're just having a good time.."
At this point I squeezed his shoulder and dug my thumb in to hit the pressure point right in the area of where his shoulder meets his neck.
"Good time? At who's expense??" He started to talk and I squeezed that pressure point more and his knees started to buckle. "Listen to me now. Shut your fuckin mouth and listen. You take your shirt off one more time, you follow her around all night, or even think about dry humping her in front of customers and your ass will be out here faster than you've ever imagined it could be. You've only been allowed to slide this far because of her. Your sliding days are over. I don't give a shit who you are anymore. Now your just another piece of shit."
"But she likes the attention... she said it makes her feel better when I'm here..."
"You really fuckin believe that by degrading her it's a good thing? Are you fuckin stupid? I don't care what she says. Do that shit at home, don't ever do it here again. I'll lay your ass down on this sidewalk."
A month or two later I found out that he wasn't paying his bills or his part of the rent. I didn't hear it from Maria, I heard it from other staff members. I guess after I treated her boyfriend like a 6 year old she didn't want to talk to me about him anymore. She was afraid I might have another talk with him on a more serious matter, so I waited.
A couple more months went by and I heard about it again. He still wasn't paying his bills or his half of the rent. He works in the industry as well and he works at a fairly busy place. I kept wondering why he couldn't pay his share. It started to bother me even more when I kept hearing Maria say she couldn't do certain things because she was juggling bills. I've known Maria for a few years now and she never once had a problem with bills and such. I could also tell when she was upset.
One night her boyfriend came walking up with a few co-workers. He was all smiles as they walked up. I said hello to most of the co-workers and then it was his turn to walk in. He put his hand out for me to shake. I took a good look at him and said, "You need to make sure you scrub your face after work." Either he didn't hear me or he didn't care, under his nose was a white powdery substance.
That's when a lot more things started to come to light. I always figured he was either hyper active or a coke head but now I knew for sure. The little bastard wasn't paying his bills because he was snorting it all away.
As time went on he'd be quiet and every once in a while I'd have to set him off to the side. Information on what was going on was becoming more scarce as Maria quit talking to certain people. As information became less available I had to start interpreting things.
Maria started to become more lax at work. She was never a drinker or a drug user the whole time I've known her. Now all of a sudden she was drinking more and she was even smoking weed. It started to draw even more attention to her. I tried to talk to her about it and her answer usually entailed trying to fit in with her boyfriend and his friends. This just blew my mind. I can fully understand doing new things to fit in with your significant other. I can't understand drinking or doing drugs to fit in. To me that's just a sign of a weakness.
Finally a night came when there was a foul smell in the air. With the smoking ban it's very easy to smell cigarettes or any other funky smelling fumes. Low and behold, in the back of the establishment at one of the tables, the boy had a one hitter and was smoking weed. He was automatically ejected from the establishment. When I asked why I was told that Maria asked Casper not to tell me why. I told Casper to tell me because I'd find out anyways.
The next night he came by and I pulled him to the side again. He tried to apologize and I interrupted.
"Shut up. I don't ever want to hear the words I'm sorry come out of your mouth again. You wouldn't be doing this shit if you were. Don't you understand that when you fuck up in here, you don't just make you look bad, you make Maria look bad too?"
"But.. what?"
"Your her fuckin boyfriend. Your the one she chooses to be with and you make her look like a fuckin idiot for being with you. Your actions make people think less of her."
"No.. listen man, I was really fucked up that night..."
"Is that your fuckin excuse for not paying your bills? Is it your excuse for walking up here with coke all over your face? For taking your clothes off? For being a fuckin dirtbag? You know you can't be smoking weed in here. You know you can't be fuckin around. This is the last time I'm talking to you about any of this."
"Ok, ok... can I go inside?"
He went inside and ten minutes later he and Maria are outside arguing for a few minutes and he left. Maria didn't talk to me for a few days after that. Paulie and I had several talks about him and about how the next time would be the last time we'd put up with his bullshit. Boyfriend or not some one has to draw a line and since this is a work place we were ready to do that.
A few weeks later another incident occurred. This time it involved a regular punching the boy. Seems he was trying to push the regulars buttons and pushed it well enough that the regular pushed back, with his fist. The boy was removed and told not to come back.
Maria seemed much happier at work after that. She even started smiling and laughing more than she had been in the past month or two. Next thing you know, she's telling me about how she's kicking the boy out of the apartment and that they're broken up. I told her that it was the right thing to do and if she needed any help dealing with him to let me know.
She told me about the money he owed her. I told her to keep certain things of his until he paid up or to just keep enough of his things to kind of settle the debt. Conveniently he doesn't own anything of value.
Hopefully he starts paying back some of this money he owes her. Then again, I wouldn't mind having another talk with him. Maybe drive a few more points home and instill them into his head.
Friday, June 06, 2008
You want my job?...
A lot of people have said that they'd love to have my job. They walk up and see all the people greeting me and being cordial. They see the numerous ladies that give me a hug or a kiss and a few of the men that come in that shake my hand or say hello. They see all the good things that happen and the occasional incident inside the establishment.
Once they get inside they don't see the people outside that get in my face because I won't let their underage girlfriend in. They don't see the drunk that runs up and tackles me (or tries to). They don't see the group of people that try to rush past me. Or the people that call me a racist because I won't let them in due to their oversized clothing that goes against the dress code.
They also don't realize that, in order to make things meet, I work this job 5 or more days a week.
I deal with so many stupid situations that if I wrote about everyone of them you'd think I was repeating them and just changing the names of the people involved. I'm not, it's just that repetitive. Which confirms the notion that there are a lot of stupid people in the world.
I work this job so many days a week for a couple reasons.
So why do I do this job? That's one of the best questions. Some would think that it's because of the perks. Discounts on many different things, auto work, food, drinks, and just about anything else. I'm nice to certain people and if they appreciate that they return the favor when they can. When you need over $1,000 worth of car work done and the guy only charges you $300 you remember that and help him. This might mean letting him skip the line or getting him a discount on his drinks for the night. But if I had a higher paying job would I need the discounts?
Maybe it's the notoriety? Sure, if you like the idea that there are a lot of pissed off people out there that you could run into. No matter how big of a city you live in, people remember your face when you throw them out of somewhere. Notoriety also has the opposite effect. A lot of people remember you and try to be super nice to you when your at their establishment. Hoping that you'll remember them when they come to yours. Which usually gives off that creepy, sticky, false sense of nice.
Maybe it's just as simple as this. I don't feel the need to work 2 jobs. I don't want to work 12 or 16 hour days. Maybe with age came lethargy.
That's the best I can tell you. If it made any sense. If I ever come up with a better answer I'll let you know. Until then, just know that I'm still here and there's more to come.
-Be Safe
Once they get inside they don't see the people outside that get in my face because I won't let their underage girlfriend in. They don't see the drunk that runs up and tackles me (or tries to). They don't see the group of people that try to rush past me. Or the people that call me a racist because I won't let them in due to their oversized clothing that goes against the dress code.
They also don't realize that, in order to make things meet, I work this job 5 or more days a week.
I deal with so many stupid situations that if I wrote about everyone of them you'd think I was repeating them and just changing the names of the people involved. I'm not, it's just that repetitive. Which confirms the notion that there are a lot of stupid people in the world.
I work this job so many days a week for a couple reasons.
- I'm not the type of person to have multiple jobs. I was brought up to believe that if you can't survive on one job, then it's time to find another job. Sure, the concept is a little flawed in this day and age but it's worked so far for me. By keeping with this idea I've become very good at this job. Experience and time are what helps you the most.
- After I reached the Head Doorman spot there wasn't any other way to work. People under you can't work more days than you. You have to be there to know what's going on.
So why do I do this job? That's one of the best questions. Some would think that it's because of the perks. Discounts on many different things, auto work, food, drinks, and just about anything else. I'm nice to certain people and if they appreciate that they return the favor when they can. When you need over $1,000 worth of car work done and the guy only charges you $300 you remember that and help him. This might mean letting him skip the line or getting him a discount on his drinks for the night. But if I had a higher paying job would I need the discounts?
Maybe it's the notoriety? Sure, if you like the idea that there are a lot of pissed off people out there that you could run into. No matter how big of a city you live in, people remember your face when you throw them out of somewhere. Notoriety also has the opposite effect. A lot of people remember you and try to be super nice to you when your at their establishment. Hoping that you'll remember them when they come to yours. Which usually gives off that creepy, sticky, false sense of nice.
Maybe it's just as simple as this. I don't feel the need to work 2 jobs. I don't want to work 12 or 16 hour days. Maybe with age came lethargy.
That's the best I can tell you. If it made any sense. If I ever come up with a better answer I'll let you know. Until then, just know that I'm still here and there's more to come.
-Be Safe
Monday, June 02, 2008
Job Offers...
Every once in a while I get a few different job offers. Surprisingly they're usually from bands that I know or ones that are on the road. Usually they're just looking for someone to do all the heavy lifting but a lot of them want me to go with them as their personal security. I've entertained the idea and I've even talked to a couple of the bands about it. The deal breaker has always been the money.
When it comes down to traveling and going out on tour there's not much you really need to pay for besides fuel. Usually bands get food and drink at the venues that they play at. So you just need money for the days that they're not playing and any type of things you might want to do while in any certain locale. Then again, someone has to pay your normal bills such as rent, etc.
So when a band offers to take me on the road I put out the offer of how much money I need in order to do it. Money is always a very important factor and if the band isn't willing to sign a contract then the deal is off from the beginning. I have to watch my ass from the beginning because I'm going to be watching your ass the whole time we're on the road. Why? Because your paying me to be your babysitter.
They're also paying me to...
So don't come to me and ask me to go on the road with you as your personal "bodyguard" unless your ready to shell out the money. The less money you put out the less your going to get out of me.
And if the contract says that I don't touch merch, don't drive or that I don't lift heavy things. I'll gladly tell you that when we're 3,000 miles from home and you have to pay for my flight back.
If I have a contract, I have the power to enforce it by a legal means. That doesn't necessarily mean that I have a lot of money but it means that things can get done.
I guess this is just a little reminder for the bands that think they're ready for the full staff experience. Full staff means more money out of your pocket. Don't think the label is going to pay for all the little things you want. The label will get it back in some way.
When it comes down to traveling and going out on tour there's not much you really need to pay for besides fuel. Usually bands get food and drink at the venues that they play at. So you just need money for the days that they're not playing and any type of things you might want to do while in any certain locale. Then again, someone has to pay your normal bills such as rent, etc.
So when a band offers to take me on the road I put out the offer of how much money I need in order to do it. Money is always a very important factor and if the band isn't willing to sign a contract then the deal is off from the beginning. I have to watch my ass from the beginning because I'm going to be watching your ass the whole time we're on the road. Why? Because your paying me to be your babysitter.
They're also paying me to...
- Keep them out of trouble.
- Collect payments from shady club owners.
- Lift heavy stuff as needed.
- Drive if needed.
- Sell merch if needed.
- Handle money.
- Make sure no bad ideas are made while intoxicated.
So don't come to me and ask me to go on the road with you as your personal "bodyguard" unless your ready to shell out the money. The less money you put out the less your going to get out of me.
And if the contract says that I don't touch merch, don't drive or that I don't lift heavy things. I'll gladly tell you that when we're 3,000 miles from home and you have to pay for my flight back.
If I have a contract, I have the power to enforce it by a legal means. That doesn't necessarily mean that I have a lot of money but it means that things can get done.
I guess this is just a little reminder for the bands that think they're ready for the full staff experience. Full staff means more money out of your pocket. Don't think the label is going to pay for all the little things you want. The label will get it back in some way.
Monday, May 26, 2008
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Fake ID V: They're Crafty...
I get a lot of fake i.d.'s. Some of them are really good quality, some of them aren't. But no matter what they're always missing something. Whether it's UV ink, a hologram or a signature, they're missing something.
For instance. I've received a lot of fakes from Kentucky lately. They're missing the UV ink and they're usually pressed paper. Pressed paper is just that, it's two pieces of heavier stock paper pressed together to make it feel like a real i.d. It can be pulled apart after a little wear and tear. It's a dead give away.
A lot of these kids put their real name and information on these fakes. I've even taken away i.d.'s from kids that put their real address on them. It's a no brainer when you look at a Kentucky i.d. and they have a Michigan address. People are that stupid.
It's rare anymore that people argue about getting it back. I guess after a few years the reputation of the doormen proceeds them. Word gets around that a certain place won't give back the i.d.'s so people quit trying to go there. Which can be good and it can be bad.
I would say that any popular club has a few underage kids in it. Some doormen don't card people if they're with certain patrons. Some will let you in if you have that certain look. Others will let you in if the picture looks enough like you and the age is good. Which is why so many kids still get fake i.d.'s.
I've even taken an i.d. away from a girl that walked up with a doorman from another bar. He said she was good but I carded her because I didn't know her. Turns out she had a fake and was in his bar all night. The picture looked like her, the age was right but there was no UV ink on the license. I asked for a second proof and, even though she had plenty of cards in her wallet, she didn't have anything with her name on it. So I kept it. The doorman from the other bar apologized and said that they don't use UV lights on i.d.'s so he didn't know. Understandable.
In a situation like that, now he has to wonder about her friends. Are they legit? Do they all have fakes? He said her friends all had the same kind of i.d.'s. I suggested he get a UV light. He said he'd have to talk to the manager about it. So he's not too worried about it. He more than likely knew she was underage.
This has happened a few times. Regulars walking up with friends thinking they'll get everyone in without having to show i.d.'s. That only works for you, not your whole clan. If I don't know them, they better have i.d.'s.
I take the job more serious than others. If you don't want me to, then pay me even more money. I can forget a lot of things when the moneys right. Things can be cleared up that way too.
But until the day comes when I'm paid to let in the "right" people I'm still the same old me. The asshole.
For instance. I've received a lot of fakes from Kentucky lately. They're missing the UV ink and they're usually pressed paper. Pressed paper is just that, it's two pieces of heavier stock paper pressed together to make it feel like a real i.d. It can be pulled apart after a little wear and tear. It's a dead give away.
A lot of these kids put their real name and information on these fakes. I've even taken away i.d.'s from kids that put their real address on them. It's a no brainer when you look at a Kentucky i.d. and they have a Michigan address. People are that stupid.
It's rare anymore that people argue about getting it back. I guess after a few years the reputation of the doormen proceeds them. Word gets around that a certain place won't give back the i.d.'s so people quit trying to go there. Which can be good and it can be bad.
I would say that any popular club has a few underage kids in it. Some doormen don't card people if they're with certain patrons. Some will let you in if you have that certain look. Others will let you in if the picture looks enough like you and the age is good. Which is why so many kids still get fake i.d.'s.
I've even taken an i.d. away from a girl that walked up with a doorman from another bar. He said she was good but I carded her because I didn't know her. Turns out she had a fake and was in his bar all night. The picture looked like her, the age was right but there was no UV ink on the license. I asked for a second proof and, even though she had plenty of cards in her wallet, she didn't have anything with her name on it. So I kept it. The doorman from the other bar apologized and said that they don't use UV lights on i.d.'s so he didn't know. Understandable.
In a situation like that, now he has to wonder about her friends. Are they legit? Do they all have fakes? He said her friends all had the same kind of i.d.'s. I suggested he get a UV light. He said he'd have to talk to the manager about it. So he's not too worried about it. He more than likely knew she was underage.
This has happened a few times. Regulars walking up with friends thinking they'll get everyone in without having to show i.d.'s. That only works for you, not your whole clan. If I don't know them, they better have i.d.'s.
I take the job more serious than others. If you don't want me to, then pay me even more money. I can forget a lot of things when the moneys right. Things can be cleared up that way too.
But until the day comes when I'm paid to let in the "right" people I'm still the same old me. The asshole.
Monday, April 28, 2008
Contemplations....
At a certain point any job gets to be painful. You wonder how much longer you can do it. You think about what else you could be doing. You just plainly get tired of doing the same thing over and over. How many times do you have to tell the same people the same things. This job is like that.
The only way to really keep the job fresh is to either change jobs or change venues. It does tend to prove difficult when your the head man. The pay is good and there aren't many venues that will match your pay. After all, you become the new guy all over again. No venue wants to pay the new guy close to what the head man makes.
So every night becomes a repetitive cycle. You go through the checklist before leaving for work. Vest. check. Flashlight. check. Phone. check. Keys. check. Tazer... I wish.
Then you get to work. You do a quick walk through and take inventory of the people already there. Get a good visual and check any suspicious people for i.d.'s or anything else.
Then the night begins. Standing at post and reminding the same people through out the night to step down the sidewalk to enjoy their cigarettes. That they can't take their drinks outside. To keep the noise down because our neighbors are trying to sleep.
Then refusing entrance to inebriated people that walk up. Explaining that they were stumbling around or just too drunk to come in. Expecting a fight or argument with every refusal.
On some nights I'm the angry father figure. I have to remind kids that banging beer bottles on top of each other is something they can do at home and not here. Telling them to keep the noise down and to quit annoying me.
Most nights I get an offering or two. Either monetarily or physical. Money I will accept. Why? Because no matter how much you give me, I'll still throw you out within minutes if you need to be. Physical offerings normally go in one ear and out the other. Your wasted and I'm sober, it's just not a good idea on my part.
Then comes the end of the night. The lights are on, the music is off and I'm yelling for you to leave. Your looking at me like I'm being rude for interrupting your conversation. I'm looking at you like an asshole because your not leaving yet. Believe it or not, I want to leave because I have to be here the following night and do it all over again. Soberly.
Finally get all the people out and all the duties are done. The waitresses are put into cabs or cars and everything is done for the night. Then the walk to my car through the alley and down the streets. Morning is here and it's time for bed.
I like to think that tomorrow is a different day. In reality it's about the same as all the rest. It changes occasionally but not enough. It's usually the same people at the same times. Which isn't always bad. It's good to see familiar faces but those faces are usually wasted every time they're seen.
I've been wondering a lot lately. What it would be like to have that office job again. It'd probably be just as boring after a time. I've always had that travel bug but it's never bitten hard enough.
Change would be nice. Either in job terms or positions.
The only way to really keep the job fresh is to either change jobs or change venues. It does tend to prove difficult when your the head man. The pay is good and there aren't many venues that will match your pay. After all, you become the new guy all over again. No venue wants to pay the new guy close to what the head man makes.
So every night becomes a repetitive cycle. You go through the checklist before leaving for work. Vest. check. Flashlight. check. Phone. check. Keys. check. Tazer... I wish.
Then you get to work. You do a quick walk through and take inventory of the people already there. Get a good visual and check any suspicious people for i.d.'s or anything else.
Then the night begins. Standing at post and reminding the same people through out the night to step down the sidewalk to enjoy their cigarettes. That they can't take their drinks outside. To keep the noise down because our neighbors are trying to sleep.
Then refusing entrance to inebriated people that walk up. Explaining that they were stumbling around or just too drunk to come in. Expecting a fight or argument with every refusal.
On some nights I'm the angry father figure. I have to remind kids that banging beer bottles on top of each other is something they can do at home and not here. Telling them to keep the noise down and to quit annoying me.
Most nights I get an offering or two. Either monetarily or physical. Money I will accept. Why? Because no matter how much you give me, I'll still throw you out within minutes if you need to be. Physical offerings normally go in one ear and out the other. Your wasted and I'm sober, it's just not a good idea on my part.
Then comes the end of the night. The lights are on, the music is off and I'm yelling for you to leave. Your looking at me like I'm being rude for interrupting your conversation. I'm looking at you like an asshole because your not leaving yet. Believe it or not, I want to leave because I have to be here the following night and do it all over again. Soberly.
Finally get all the people out and all the duties are done. The waitresses are put into cabs or cars and everything is done for the night. Then the walk to my car through the alley and down the streets. Morning is here and it's time for bed.
I like to think that tomorrow is a different day. In reality it's about the same as all the rest. It changes occasionally but not enough. It's usually the same people at the same times. Which isn't always bad. It's good to see familiar faces but those faces are usually wasted every time they're seen.
I've been wondering a lot lately. What it would be like to have that office job again. It'd probably be just as boring after a time. I've always had that travel bug but it's never bitten hard enough.
Change would be nice. Either in job terms or positions.
Saturday, April 12, 2008
Confidant Reversal...
One of the many things that I don't like to see is people changing for the worse. I see a lot of things happen from my view point. I see good people go bad and bad people get even worse. It's a land of misconceptions and aphrodisiacs.
I've seen the complacent stoner guy turn into the easily agitated coke head. I've seen the pretty girl turn into the drunk whore. I've seen the typical girl from down the street turn into the hooker on the corner turning tricks to pay rent. Seeing all this doesn't bother me at all until it's someone I know. Then I get upset.
All these people have their reasons for becoming what they become. Usually it's due to financial issues or they need a higher high, selfish reasons mostly. They think they need something that has never been a necessity before.
When a friend of mine changes in the matter of a couple months it's something I feel I need to bring to their attention. I'm not the most gentle person when it comes to this so it usually ends up badly. They start going off about how I'm jealous they're having more fun, or that I'm just not happy because they're happy. Which usually comes to a rebuttal of "No, your fucking yourself up and I don't want to see it anymore."
It's at that point that they make the decision for me as to what I do. If they listen and understand and want help, then I'll help them. If they're too far in and tell me to go to hell, then I forget about them. After a person is far enough into their dreamland there's not much you can do. Unless you want to kidnap them and lock them away in some house in the middle of nowhere. Which isn't worth my time.
But when I see someone change everything about themselves just to fit in with their significant other it just baffles me. When this person decides to start drinking and start doing drugs just so they can fit in with their mate I wonder what's really wrong. I'm sure there's some deep rooted abandonment issues from their childhood that is making them think wrong. At least I hope it's something like that instead of something else.
My super size imagination sometimes gets the better of me. Stories I've heard of how prostitutes are made tend to mix in with this situation. How pimps secretly get girls hooked on drugs, take away their identification and then move them to a place where the girls don't know anyone. I've heard of girls that have gone to guys houses and things get slipped into their drinks. Then they go back to see that guy because they associate him with that feeling. Then the addiction sets in.
Of course this is a lot of my imagination running free. I highly doubt any of this pertains to my friend. I'll find out soon. The time for the talk is close to hand and I'm not looking forward to it. Funny how I can tell a complete stranger that they smell too bad to enter or they're too wasted to get in. Yet, when it comes to talking to a friend, it's a complete different story.
Be safe.
I've seen the complacent stoner guy turn into the easily agitated coke head. I've seen the pretty girl turn into the drunk whore. I've seen the typical girl from down the street turn into the hooker on the corner turning tricks to pay rent. Seeing all this doesn't bother me at all until it's someone I know. Then I get upset.
All these people have their reasons for becoming what they become. Usually it's due to financial issues or they need a higher high, selfish reasons mostly. They think they need something that has never been a necessity before.
When a friend of mine changes in the matter of a couple months it's something I feel I need to bring to their attention. I'm not the most gentle person when it comes to this so it usually ends up badly. They start going off about how I'm jealous they're having more fun, or that I'm just not happy because they're happy. Which usually comes to a rebuttal of "No, your fucking yourself up and I don't want to see it anymore."
It's at that point that they make the decision for me as to what I do. If they listen and understand and want help, then I'll help them. If they're too far in and tell me to go to hell, then I forget about them. After a person is far enough into their dreamland there's not much you can do. Unless you want to kidnap them and lock them away in some house in the middle of nowhere. Which isn't worth my time.
But when I see someone change everything about themselves just to fit in with their significant other it just baffles me. When this person decides to start drinking and start doing drugs just so they can fit in with their mate I wonder what's really wrong. I'm sure there's some deep rooted abandonment issues from their childhood that is making them think wrong. At least I hope it's something like that instead of something else.
My super size imagination sometimes gets the better of me. Stories I've heard of how prostitutes are made tend to mix in with this situation. How pimps secretly get girls hooked on drugs, take away their identification and then move them to a place where the girls don't know anyone. I've heard of girls that have gone to guys houses and things get slipped into their drinks. Then they go back to see that guy because they associate him with that feeling. Then the addiction sets in.
Of course this is a lot of my imagination running free. I highly doubt any of this pertains to my friend. I'll find out soon. The time for the talk is close to hand and I'm not looking forward to it. Funny how I can tell a complete stranger that they smell too bad to enter or they're too wasted to get in. Yet, when it comes to talking to a friend, it's a complete different story.
Be safe.
Wednesday, April 09, 2008
Humor needed..
I've been pretty bored recently and decided that a little humor was needed to lighten up my mood.
So I headed over to LoLcats. I've always been an animal person and some of these captions are pretty good. I decided to post a few of them up here.
Enjoy.
see more crazy cat pics
see more crazy cat pics
see more crazy cat pics
So I headed over to LoLcats. I've always been an animal person and some of these captions are pretty good. I decided to post a few of them up here.
Enjoy.
see more crazy cat pics
see more crazy cat pics
see more crazy cat pics
Tuesday, April 08, 2008
Training keeps a rolling...
With the pending outcome of On The Outs I decided to bring on a new front doorman. He's a rather big looking guy with a bit of a punk look to him. He'll fit in well with a lot of the clientele.
Since there hasn't been any word I decided to take the action to fill my position if needed. If not needed then people can be moved around or let go. I know, it's a very dick headed move but in life you have to do this once in a while to make your point.
Training has gone pretty well so far. His only failing points are that he's a little too compassionate and he continuously uses the words "Please" and "Sorry". Not that those words are to be never used but they have a time and place. In this position there are very few times and places for them to be used. In fact, I think I can count on one hand the amount of times I've used the word "Sorry".
One night, during training, I let Marcus run the door as I stood off to the side and watched. As I stood there I noticed a man walk up that I had had a few problems with on a different night. This guy thinks his shit doesn't stink. As he walked closer I stepped closer to the door. It was a perfect opportunity to show the new blood how to get the respect we deserve.
As the man walked up Marcus asked for his i.d. The man pulled the door to the establishment open and propped it open with his foot and then handed his i.d. to Marcus. Marcus then asked him to close the door as he looked at the i.d. The man just stood there.
"Hey man, I need you to close the door please."
In one move the man reached for his i.d., stepped into the establishment and said, "Yea, ok."
Marcus pulled the i.d. back and said, "No man, seriously. I need you to step out and close the door."
"Fuck off, what's this about?"
I then stepped in and grabbed him by the arm and pulled him out of the doorway. The man was startled and turned towards me, "The fuck's your problem?"
"You."
"Well, that's too bad huh?" Then, either he realized who he was talking to or he realized that there were two of us. And before he could utter another word I told him to take off. I grabbed his i.d. from Marcus and gave it a toss onto the sidewalk. "The fuck man!?"
"When you remember how to be polite to people feel free to come back. I'm done dealing with you." He just stood there staring at both of us. "And remember him too. He'll treat you the same way you treat him."
I took a couple steps back to give him the comfort zone to pick up his i.d. This way I was far enough away so he couldn't grab my leg and he felt comfortable enough to know that I wouldn't kick him while he was bent over.
The girl that he came with tried to plead his case. How much of a good guy he is and that he had a bad night at work. He works in the industry and she swears he won't be a problem. Marcus tried to explain what had happened and I signaled to him to just be quiet. After she realized that it all was falling on deaf ears she walked off to meet back up with the guy.
After all was calm Marcus said to me, "Man, I didn't know what was going to happen. I was ready though."
"Listen, no one disrespects you. If someone wants to be vulgar with you over a little thing, then they're more than likely going to be a problem later inside. If you stop it here then you don't have to worry about it later."
"Well yea, I mean you just kind of stepped in and I didn't know..."
"I stepped in because it was taking too much time. You are the doorman. You own this doorway. No one goes inside without your approval. Quit being passive and be firm. Treat these people like they're children if you have to but always be respectful until they don't deserve it."
"Ok, I'm still getting used to how things are done here."
"It's understandable. Just try to learn quick."
Now the question I ask myself after working with him a few nights. Am I setting this guy up for a fall or did I choose him just to let the powers that be, know what they might be losing if I leave.
On a different note. The guy that was involved in this has been back a few times. Each time he walks up now he hands me his i.d. and respectfully calls me sir. I hate being called sir and have told him to just call me Mike. All's well.
Since there hasn't been any word I decided to take the action to fill my position if needed. If not needed then people can be moved around or let go. I know, it's a very dick headed move but in life you have to do this once in a while to make your point.
Training has gone pretty well so far. His only failing points are that he's a little too compassionate and he continuously uses the words "Please" and "Sorry". Not that those words are to be never used but they have a time and place. In this position there are very few times and places for them to be used. In fact, I think I can count on one hand the amount of times I've used the word "Sorry".
One night, during training, I let Marcus run the door as I stood off to the side and watched. As I stood there I noticed a man walk up that I had had a few problems with on a different night. This guy thinks his shit doesn't stink. As he walked closer I stepped closer to the door. It was a perfect opportunity to show the new blood how to get the respect we deserve.
As the man walked up Marcus asked for his i.d. The man pulled the door to the establishment open and propped it open with his foot and then handed his i.d. to Marcus. Marcus then asked him to close the door as he looked at the i.d. The man just stood there.
"Hey man, I need you to close the door please."
In one move the man reached for his i.d., stepped into the establishment and said, "Yea, ok."
Marcus pulled the i.d. back and said, "No man, seriously. I need you to step out and close the door."
"Fuck off, what's this about?"
I then stepped in and grabbed him by the arm and pulled him out of the doorway. The man was startled and turned towards me, "The fuck's your problem?"
"You."
"Well, that's too bad huh?" Then, either he realized who he was talking to or he realized that there were two of us. And before he could utter another word I told him to take off. I grabbed his i.d. from Marcus and gave it a toss onto the sidewalk. "The fuck man!?"
"When you remember how to be polite to people feel free to come back. I'm done dealing with you." He just stood there staring at both of us. "And remember him too. He'll treat you the same way you treat him."
I took a couple steps back to give him the comfort zone to pick up his i.d. This way I was far enough away so he couldn't grab my leg and he felt comfortable enough to know that I wouldn't kick him while he was bent over.
The girl that he came with tried to plead his case. How much of a good guy he is and that he had a bad night at work. He works in the industry and she swears he won't be a problem. Marcus tried to explain what had happened and I signaled to him to just be quiet. After she realized that it all was falling on deaf ears she walked off to meet back up with the guy.
After all was calm Marcus said to me, "Man, I didn't know what was going to happen. I was ready though."
"Listen, no one disrespects you. If someone wants to be vulgar with you over a little thing, then they're more than likely going to be a problem later inside. If you stop it here then you don't have to worry about it later."
"Well yea, I mean you just kind of stepped in and I didn't know..."
"I stepped in because it was taking too much time. You are the doorman. You own this doorway. No one goes inside without your approval. Quit being passive and be firm. Treat these people like they're children if you have to but always be respectful until they don't deserve it."
"Ok, I'm still getting used to how things are done here."
"It's understandable. Just try to learn quick."
Now the question I ask myself after working with him a few nights. Am I setting this guy up for a fall or did I choose him just to let the powers that be, know what they might be losing if I leave.
On a different note. The guy that was involved in this has been back a few times. Each time he walks up now he hands me his i.d. and respectfully calls me sir. I hate being called sir and have told him to just call me Mike. All's well.
Friday, April 04, 2008
2012??
So I jumped on the site today and realized that it's been a while since I last put up a post. Then I noticed the site count. The count since September of 2007 is 2112. The count since I originally posted the site back in 2005 is right under that at 4640. That's a pretty significant increase, a little less than half of the total traffic has happened in less than 8 months.
Then I noticed the number 2112 again. It made me start thinking of the number 2012 and then my mind skipped over to Nostradamus and his prediction of the world coming to an end in the year 2012. Then I looked over and noticed the tv was on. I sat and stared at it blankly for a few minutes. Then I wondered when and why they actually made a movie version of the tv show Miami Vice. Really?
If you can't tell by my ramblings I've been out of focus lately. There's more news to come based off the On the Outs post I put up back in February. I won't go into detail as to whether it's good or bad news just yet. You'll find out in good time. I may or may not have to find a new title for the blog.
Until then I will put forth a conscious effort to keep updating on a regular basis. Even though it's only been a little over a week, it feels like it's been months since I've been on here.
The weather's getting nicer out which means there will be even more drunks out and about. When the weather's nice people go out earlier to get their 'stupid' on. Which I guess is a good thing. I like to call it job security. As long as there are stupid people getting drunk I'll always have a job. What other jobs have that kind of security?
Until next time.
Be safe.
Then I noticed the number 2112 again. It made me start thinking of the number 2012 and then my mind skipped over to Nostradamus and his prediction of the world coming to an end in the year 2012. Then I looked over and noticed the tv was on. I sat and stared at it blankly for a few minutes. Then I wondered when and why they actually made a movie version of the tv show Miami Vice. Really?
If you can't tell by my ramblings I've been out of focus lately. There's more news to come based off the On the Outs post I put up back in February. I won't go into detail as to whether it's good or bad news just yet. You'll find out in good time. I may or may not have to find a new title for the blog.
Until then I will put forth a conscious effort to keep updating on a regular basis. Even though it's only been a little over a week, it feels like it's been months since I've been on here.
The weather's getting nicer out which means there will be even more drunks out and about. When the weather's nice people go out earlier to get their 'stupid' on. Which I guess is a good thing. I like to call it job security. As long as there are stupid people getting drunk I'll always have a job. What other jobs have that kind of security?
Until next time.
Be safe.
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
Kids...
Maybe it's because of how I was raised. Maybe it's because I grew up with people almost 10 years older than me in my "formidable years". Maybe it's because I'm blue collar and think that 1 job is all a person should really need. Maybe it's a self induced reality that believes people should be cordial and respectful and not fuck themselves up until they know what it is they are to be doing. Maybe it's just because I'm much older than I really am.
I've been thinking about all this a lot lately. Especially now that it's a few months into the new year and all the fake i.d.'s are being passed on to the younger crowd. A crowd that we get and I gladly take fakes away from.
I look at these kids and wonder a lot. I call them kids because children is a bigger word and they wouldn't understand that. But to me, that's what they are. They're kids. The 21 year olds now seem more and more like 15 year olds. They're just not smart in the way of the public. Maybe this is the generation that will end us all.
They're 21 years old and they're walking around with tattoos covering them. They range from full sleeves on their arms and even some have tattoos on their necks and faces. Granted, I have tattoos myself but I knew where I was going to be in life before I got any that were visible. These kids haven't even gotten out of college yet. Good luck using that degree and getting that high paying job.
Corporations still look down on people for having tattoos even though it is still becoming more prominent. They'll gladly take the experienced over the freshly tattooed.
These kids also don't seem to understand that the world doesn't revolve around them. This could be due to the idiocracy called parenting these days. Where the children don't get punished for doing stupid things. Which can go back to the idiocracy of government, where they say by spanking your child your abusing them.
Better yet, don't reprimand your children. Wait until they're old enough and let them loose on society. Some one will get tired of their shit and beat the crap out of them. Then, after they heal, they can feel sorry for themselves and resentment towards the world. Next thing ya know, they're taking semi-automatic weapons onto college campus's and killing people that have laughed at them.
If they have boundaries and punishment to begin with, they'll have boundaries in the end.
This new generation is what will become the downfall. They don't care. They just do what ever crosses their minds. They're dirty, they smell, they think they're the best.
They make me sick. In my corner of the world, they're not welcome.
I've been thinking about all this a lot lately. Especially now that it's a few months into the new year and all the fake i.d.'s are being passed on to the younger crowd. A crowd that we get and I gladly take fakes away from.
I look at these kids and wonder a lot. I call them kids because children is a bigger word and they wouldn't understand that. But to me, that's what they are. They're kids. The 21 year olds now seem more and more like 15 year olds. They're just not smart in the way of the public. Maybe this is the generation that will end us all.
They're 21 years old and they're walking around with tattoos covering them. They range from full sleeves on their arms and even some have tattoos on their necks and faces. Granted, I have tattoos myself but I knew where I was going to be in life before I got any that were visible. These kids haven't even gotten out of college yet. Good luck using that degree and getting that high paying job.
Corporations still look down on people for having tattoos even though it is still becoming more prominent. They'll gladly take the experienced over the freshly tattooed.
These kids also don't seem to understand that the world doesn't revolve around them. This could be due to the idiocracy called parenting these days. Where the children don't get punished for doing stupid things. Which can go back to the idiocracy of government, where they say by spanking your child your abusing them.
Better yet, don't reprimand your children. Wait until they're old enough and let them loose on society. Some one will get tired of their shit and beat the crap out of them. Then, after they heal, they can feel sorry for themselves and resentment towards the world. Next thing ya know, they're taking semi-automatic weapons onto college campus's and killing people that have laughed at them.
If they have boundaries and punishment to begin with, they'll have boundaries in the end.
This new generation is what will become the downfall. They don't care. They just do what ever crosses their minds. They're dirty, they smell, they think they're the best.
They make me sick. In my corner of the world, they're not welcome.
Friday, March 21, 2008
200.
And there they stood. The few against the many. They knew that they did right and that's all they cared to know. The General was not there to lead them but they did it the way they knew how.
After all these years, Welcome to post #200. I know it took a while to get here but it's here.
A few years ago I was working in a concert venue. It was a slightly busy night and I was fairly new to the staff. Being the new guy I got the crap position. Well, they called it the crap position, to me it was the best seat in the house. It was the spot near the stage.
I thought it was the best spot because I got to see the show. I also got to be the one staff member to control the mosh pits and idiots. When I say one staff member I mean one staff member. I was the only person in the middle of a pit unless it got really sloppy. Which was one of the best feelings at the time.
I would step out into the pit and let it go. As soon as anyone touched me they got thrown out quickly. It usually entailed throwing them into a choke hold and dragging them behind me. If they're friend wanted to say anything or try to stop me then they would go under the other arm.
On one particular night there was a bigger problem. The band on stage brought up a friend from the crowd to help perform a song. As I watched the band pull him up from the front of the stage I had a feeling it was going to be a problem. The friend was very drunk.
After a few verses he was starting to jump around on stage and lose his balance. Next thing you know he trips and he gets caught by the audience. They push him back up and I walk out into the crowd. As I turn to look around I catch a glimpse of him running towards the front of the stage.
He stage dives.
No one catches him.
So I do what I believe is right. I grab him, make sure he's awake and check him out. He's fine. So I hook him under the arm pit and brace his forearm and I start walking him to the back door. Yes, I'm throwing him out for the night.
From behind me someone grabs my shirt. They start pulling me back. Then I feel another set of hands grab my other shoulder. I start to get pulled down. I step backwards and swing my open arm back, hoping that my elbow will make contact with who ever is pulling on me. It didn't and I lost balance. The drunk idiot and I both go down.
The two men that pulled me back started helping their friend get back up. Then the calvary arrived. Two former employees came out of the crowd and grabbed the guys that pulled me down. I once again grabbed the drunk idiot. As we started ushering the three out, more of their friends came out of the crowd. As more of them came out, more of us came out. Security, bartenders, barbacks, and even the sound guys all came running.
Next thing you know it was 12 -15 people all wrestling each other for control. Punches were thrown, police were called and people were arrested. The band even stopped playing during it all.
Half an hour before it all started the Head Doorman, TD, had gone home early because it was a mediocre night. He didn't think anything was going to happen. The next day when TD and I worked together he complimented me on a job well done. He also said that he wouldn't be going home too early on any more shifts that I worked.
Later down the road, I'd find out that those men were the security staff from a different venue. I also found out that they were all fired from their venue. The owner of that venue found out about the incident and didn't care for how they represented him.
It was my second shift at this venue. It proved to be one of the funnest venues I've worked at so far.
After all these years, Welcome to post #200. I know it took a while to get here but it's here.
A few years ago I was working in a concert venue. It was a slightly busy night and I was fairly new to the staff. Being the new guy I got the crap position. Well, they called it the crap position, to me it was the best seat in the house. It was the spot near the stage.
I thought it was the best spot because I got to see the show. I also got to be the one staff member to control the mosh pits and idiots. When I say one staff member I mean one staff member. I was the only person in the middle of a pit unless it got really sloppy. Which was one of the best feelings at the time.
I would step out into the pit and let it go. As soon as anyone touched me they got thrown out quickly. It usually entailed throwing them into a choke hold and dragging them behind me. If they're friend wanted to say anything or try to stop me then they would go under the other arm.
On one particular night there was a bigger problem. The band on stage brought up a friend from the crowd to help perform a song. As I watched the band pull him up from the front of the stage I had a feeling it was going to be a problem. The friend was very drunk.
After a few verses he was starting to jump around on stage and lose his balance. Next thing you know he trips and he gets caught by the audience. They push him back up and I walk out into the crowd. As I turn to look around I catch a glimpse of him running towards the front of the stage.
He stage dives.
No one catches him.
So I do what I believe is right. I grab him, make sure he's awake and check him out. He's fine. So I hook him under the arm pit and brace his forearm and I start walking him to the back door. Yes, I'm throwing him out for the night.
From behind me someone grabs my shirt. They start pulling me back. Then I feel another set of hands grab my other shoulder. I start to get pulled down. I step backwards and swing my open arm back, hoping that my elbow will make contact with who ever is pulling on me. It didn't and I lost balance. The drunk idiot and I both go down.
The two men that pulled me back started helping their friend get back up. Then the calvary arrived. Two former employees came out of the crowd and grabbed the guys that pulled me down. I once again grabbed the drunk idiot. As we started ushering the three out, more of their friends came out of the crowd. As more of them came out, more of us came out. Security, bartenders, barbacks, and even the sound guys all came running.
Next thing you know it was 12 -15 people all wrestling each other for control. Punches were thrown, police were called and people were arrested. The band even stopped playing during it all.
Half an hour before it all started the Head Doorman, TD, had gone home early because it was a mediocre night. He didn't think anything was going to happen. The next day when TD and I worked together he complimented me on a job well done. He also said that he wouldn't be going home too early on any more shifts that I worked.
Later down the road, I'd find out that those men were the security staff from a different venue. I also found out that they were all fired from their venue. The owner of that venue found out about the incident and didn't care for how they represented him.
It was my second shift at this venue. It proved to be one of the funnest venues I've worked at so far.
Thursday, March 20, 2008
Fake I.D IV: My Mom...
"Why do you need another form of i.d.? That's me..."
"I just need to verify that it's you. You have anything else in your wallet that has your name and maybe a picture on it?"
The girl closes her wallet, "No, I only carry my i.d. and cash."
"Really? Who's credit cards are those?"
"My Mom's...."
"All four of those are your mothers?"
"Yea, she doesn't want me to ever be in a bind."
"Well, tell your mother that you need to buy a new fake then." I put the i.d. in my pocket.
"You can't take that, my Mom's a lawyer. She told me you can't take away any type of i.d. from anyone."
"Really? Even if your fraudulently impersonating another person or carrying an altered form of government identification?"
"That's what she told me. So you have to give that back or I'll call the police."
"Feel free to call honey, I'm not the one looking at jail time."
She stood there leaning on one leg and the other leg was tapping it's foot as she held her phone up to her ear. It was as if she was waiting for me to cave in to her bluff. Then a squad car drives by and I flag them down with my flashlight. As the car pulls over the girl slowly turns to walk away.
"Hey, don't leave yet. The cops are here now. Don't you want your i.d. back?"
The two officers walk up. "What's the problem?"
"This young lady was just going to call in to the station. She has a few questions about why she can't have her fake i.d. back."
"Let's see it." The officers look at the i.d. and walk over to the girl. I don't really listen in to their conversation because I've heard it all before. Until I hear the one officer say to her, "Listen lady, if you want to make a big deal out of this we can arrest you and prosecute you in a federal court. This is possession of a forged federal document. You could go to prison for five years for this, it's called fraud. So how bout we drop it and you go home."
The girl started crying and the tried to plead with the officer but he wouldn't have anything to do with it. He turned and walked over and handed the i.d. back to me. He rolled his eyes and patted me on the shoulder. In a low voice he commented, "I don't know how you deal with this crap," then walked back to the car.
Before the officers even got into their car, the girl came back up to me. The first officer stopped and yelled over to the girl, "Miss. Don't even bother this man again. We will gladly take you in for this. Start walking away." Then he stood next to his car as the girl turned and started walking down the street.
"I just need to verify that it's you. You have anything else in your wallet that has your name and maybe a picture on it?"
The girl closes her wallet, "No, I only carry my i.d. and cash."
"Really? Who's credit cards are those?"
"My Mom's...."
"All four of those are your mothers?"
"Yea, she doesn't want me to ever be in a bind."
"Well, tell your mother that you need to buy a new fake then." I put the i.d. in my pocket.
"You can't take that, my Mom's a lawyer. She told me you can't take away any type of i.d. from anyone."
"Really? Even if your fraudulently impersonating another person or carrying an altered form of government identification?"
"That's what she told me. So you have to give that back or I'll call the police."
"Feel free to call honey, I'm not the one looking at jail time."
She stood there leaning on one leg and the other leg was tapping it's foot as she held her phone up to her ear. It was as if she was waiting for me to cave in to her bluff. Then a squad car drives by and I flag them down with my flashlight. As the car pulls over the girl slowly turns to walk away.
"Hey, don't leave yet. The cops are here now. Don't you want your i.d. back?"
The two officers walk up. "What's the problem?"
"This young lady was just going to call in to the station. She has a few questions about why she can't have her fake i.d. back."
"Let's see it." The officers look at the i.d. and walk over to the girl. I don't really listen in to their conversation because I've heard it all before. Until I hear the one officer say to her, "Listen lady, if you want to make a big deal out of this we can arrest you and prosecute you in a federal court. This is possession of a forged federal document. You could go to prison for five years for this, it's called fraud. So how bout we drop it and you go home."
The girl started crying and the tried to plead with the officer but he wouldn't have anything to do with it. He turned and walked over and handed the i.d. back to me. He rolled his eyes and patted me on the shoulder. In a low voice he commented, "I don't know how you deal with this crap," then walked back to the car.
Before the officers even got into their car, the girl came back up to me. The first officer stopped and yelled over to the girl, "Miss. Don't even bother this man again. We will gladly take you in for this. Start walking away." Then he stood next to his car as the girl turned and started walking down the street.
Monday, March 17, 2008
Search Terms II: How to get into a Bar...
Trying to get into a club but your underage? Read on and see some tips.
It's funny to think of the amount of people that come to this site looking for tips on how to get into a bar with an expired i.d. To think that there's some 18 - 19 year old sitting at home trying to get that kind of advice from a search engine. Even better that they get sent here.
Now I'll never say that I'm 100%. I can honestly say that I've never done anything to the point that I can say that I'm never wrong. In fact, I'd even say that I'm sure there are some i.d.'s that get past me. I don't have the best equipment to catch everyone but I do try my best.
So here's a little run down for all you little ones trying to get in to the clubs.
First off, realize why we don't want you in the establishment. Realize that not only can the doormen lose their jobs because you made it in but every person working in that establishment could possibly lose their job for a week or up to a month. This all depends on where you are, each state has different repercussions for allowing underage kids in. So if you get caught inside an establishment by a law officer, not only can you get a Felony but the establishment gets fined and possibly closed down. Which could mean that there are 20 - 100 or more people without work. No work means no money which means no providing for themselves or possibly their families. So because your dumb ass wants to go where the big kids are we get thrown back to the poverty lines.
Let's go back to the term Felony. A lot of kids that I've taken i.d.'s away from don't realize the extent of trouble they could get into. By handing me an i.d. that isn't you, your representing that your a different person. Your fraudulently representing yourself. By doing this your committing an act of Fraud. Fraud is a felony.
Showing a real i.d. and acting as if it's you can land you in Federal Prison for a few years. It's highly doubtful that this will happen. What could happen is that you are put on probation and you still get the Felony charge.
Let's realize what a Felony charge does to your future employment possibilities. With a Felony you can not get a job as a gas station cashier. In fact, you can't get a job anywhere that deals with money. There are a lot of jobs that you won't be able to get because of the Felony. If you've ever filled out an application for a job you'll see where they ask if you have a felony. If you say yes then you have to explain why. Imagine explaining that you got a felony because you just couldn't wait to go to a club to drink. If you answer no to the felony question and they do a background check and find out you do have one, you'll be fired from that job immediately.
Showing a fake or rendered i.d. is an act of fraud against the government. Your tampering with an official document. If your the possessor they'll more than likely do the same as I mentioned above. If your the creator your definitely looking at time in a federal prison.
Keep this in mind when your showing a fake or rendered i.d. Your producing an official document, if it's not real or changed then your producing a fake i.d. that could be viewed as an act of fraud. Which puts you in the same list as people that steal identities. These people are scam artists and literally steal thousands of dollars from unknowing people.
Feel free to read over some of these articles.
1-30-2008 - BALTIMORE DEFENDANT SENTENCED IN SCHEME TO PRODUCE FAKE IDENTITY DOCUMENTS, BANK FRAUD AND IDENTITY THEFT
8-9-2007 - GUILTY IN U.S. FEDERAL COURT
11-27-2007 - INDIANA MAN SENTENCED POSSESSING/DISTRIBUTING FALSE IDENTIFICATION DOCUMENTS
9-15-2006 - CALIFORNIA MAN SENTENCED TO FOUR YEARS IN PRISON FOR AGGRAVATED IDENTITY THEFT
Many more articles of different degrees.
So you might want to double think the possibilities that could happen when you fraudulently represent yourself, especially these days. With the 'terrorist threat' that is high any fake i.d. could be a possibility to make an example out of you.
Of course, when your young and stupid you don't think of the things that could happen. Unless those things are fun.
It's funny to think of the amount of people that come to this site looking for tips on how to get into a bar with an expired i.d. To think that there's some 18 - 19 year old sitting at home trying to get that kind of advice from a search engine. Even better that they get sent here.
Now I'll never say that I'm 100%. I can honestly say that I've never done anything to the point that I can say that I'm never wrong. In fact, I'd even say that I'm sure there are some i.d.'s that get past me. I don't have the best equipment to catch everyone but I do try my best.
So here's a little run down for all you little ones trying to get in to the clubs.
First off, realize why we don't want you in the establishment. Realize that not only can the doormen lose their jobs because you made it in but every person working in that establishment could possibly lose their job for a week or up to a month. This all depends on where you are, each state has different repercussions for allowing underage kids in. So if you get caught inside an establishment by a law officer, not only can you get a Felony but the establishment gets fined and possibly closed down. Which could mean that there are 20 - 100 or more people without work. No work means no money which means no providing for themselves or possibly their families. So because your dumb ass wants to go where the big kids are we get thrown back to the poverty lines.
Let's go back to the term Felony. A lot of kids that I've taken i.d.'s away from don't realize the extent of trouble they could get into. By handing me an i.d. that isn't you, your representing that your a different person. Your fraudulently representing yourself. By doing this your committing an act of Fraud. Fraud is a felony.
Showing a real i.d. and acting as if it's you can land you in Federal Prison for a few years. It's highly doubtful that this will happen. What could happen is that you are put on probation and you still get the Felony charge.
Let's realize what a Felony charge does to your future employment possibilities. With a Felony you can not get a job as a gas station cashier. In fact, you can't get a job anywhere that deals with money. There are a lot of jobs that you won't be able to get because of the Felony. If you've ever filled out an application for a job you'll see where they ask if you have a felony. If you say yes then you have to explain why. Imagine explaining that you got a felony because you just couldn't wait to go to a club to drink. If you answer no to the felony question and they do a background check and find out you do have one, you'll be fired from that job immediately.
Showing a fake or rendered i.d. is an act of fraud against the government. Your tampering with an official document. If your the possessor they'll more than likely do the same as I mentioned above. If your the creator your definitely looking at time in a federal prison.
Keep this in mind when your showing a fake or rendered i.d. Your producing an official document, if it's not real or changed then your producing a fake i.d. that could be viewed as an act of fraud. Which puts you in the same list as people that steal identities. These people are scam artists and literally steal thousands of dollars from unknowing people.
Feel free to read over some of these articles.
1-30-2008 - BALTIMORE DEFENDANT SENTENCED IN SCHEME TO PRODUCE FAKE IDENTITY DOCUMENTS, BANK FRAUD AND IDENTITY THEFT
8-9-2007 - GUILTY IN U.S. FEDERAL COURT
11-27-2007 - INDIANA MAN SENTENCED POSSESSING/DISTRIBUTING FALSE IDENTIFICATION DOCUMENTS
9-15-2006 - CALIFORNIA MAN SENTENCED TO FOUR YEARS IN PRISON FOR AGGRAVATED IDENTITY THEFT
Many more articles of different degrees.
So you might want to double think the possibilities that could happen when you fraudulently represent yourself, especially these days. With the 'terrorist threat' that is high any fake i.d. could be a possibility to make an example out of you.
Of course, when your young and stupid you don't think of the things that could happen. Unless those things are fun.
Friday, March 14, 2008
Fake I.D. III: Delivery Driver...
"You want me to lose my job!?"
"Your not going to lose your job over a fake i.d."
"It's not fake! That's my name. See, it's on my credit cards too!"
"This is fake. You want it back? Go get the cops."
His friend speaks, "Man, I know this kid. We moved here together from Alabama. All southern i.d.'s are laminated."
"Your not helping your friend," the confiscated i.d. was from Tennessee, "How bout you be quiet."
"Man, I'm a delivery driver. I'll lose my job if you take that away!"
"Listen, your not a delivery driver. Your too small and not smart enough. Plus, you smell like crap and your riding an old ass 10 speed bicycle. What you gonna deliver on that?"
"I deliver pizzas."
"Well, bring me a pizza tomorrow and I'll give this back to you."
"Man, fuck you."
"Now your definitely not gettin it back."
"Come on man.. I'm sorry, can I just get it back? I swear I'll never come here again."
"Admitting defeat?"
"Yea...."
"Dumbass, get the fuck outta here."
The i.d. goes in my back pocket and the kid stands outside.
The license was fake on many levels. No UV ink, no signature, bad picture, pressed paper instead of plastic, and it wasn't even a CDL (commercial driver's license) that a delivery driver has to have.
If your going to invest in a fake i.d. then make sure it looks like the real thing.
Or just wait until your 21. There's really nothing special about going to bars or clubs anyways.
"Your not going to lose your job over a fake i.d."
"It's not fake! That's my name. See, it's on my credit cards too!"
"This is fake. You want it back? Go get the cops."
His friend speaks, "Man, I know this kid. We moved here together from Alabama. All southern i.d.'s are laminated."
"Your not helping your friend," the confiscated i.d. was from Tennessee, "How bout you be quiet."
"Man, I'm a delivery driver. I'll lose my job if you take that away!"
"Listen, your not a delivery driver. Your too small and not smart enough. Plus, you smell like crap and your riding an old ass 10 speed bicycle. What you gonna deliver on that?"
"I deliver pizzas."
"Well, bring me a pizza tomorrow and I'll give this back to you."
"Man, fuck you."
"Now your definitely not gettin it back."
"Come on man.. I'm sorry, can I just get it back? I swear I'll never come here again."
"Admitting defeat?"
"Yea...."
"Dumbass, get the fuck outta here."
The i.d. goes in my back pocket and the kid stands outside.
The license was fake on many levels. No UV ink, no signature, bad picture, pressed paper instead of plastic, and it wasn't even a CDL (commercial driver's license) that a delivery driver has to have.
If your going to invest in a fake i.d. then make sure it looks like the real thing.
Or just wait until your 21. There's really nothing special about going to bars or clubs anyways.
Thursday, March 13, 2008
Disposition of Servitude (Work Ethics)...
One of the hardest things to adjust to is everyone else's work habits. Some people have the ability to work and do it right all the time. They know the game and they stick to it. Some people have the ability to just get by. They know the game and do just enough to stay around.
In the nightlife you'll find both types of people. Which at times makes it interesting to listen to everyone complain. This person doesn't wash their dishes, this person didn't check those people's i.d.'s or many other things. I get to hear about it all as if I have some mystical power to change the way people are.
Granted, everyone gets burnt out on their job at some point. It's bound to happen after you've done the same job for years. That's why I usually have a time limit on jobs. I work long enough doing something and either I move on to a different position or I move on to a different job. That's just how I work things. After a certain age you either have to get your shit together and save for the future or be prepared to die at some job that you don't like.
Even though I might get burnt out on a job it doesn't give me the ability to let myself go. I don't like being fired from jobs. So I keep doing it until I find something new or better. I don't decide that it's cool for me to break the rules and smoke weed at work, or just decide not to go to work. People depend on me to be there and do my job so that's what I do until I don't need to.
On the other side, a lot of people take jobs in the nightlife because it seems fun. People are drinking, having fun and doing all kinds of weird shit. You get the opportunity to meet lots of different people. If you partake in drugs then your guaranteed to meet even more people of the same kind. Yes, I said it, there are a lot of drug users that work in clubs and bars. Have you ever heard of a club or bar that makes their employees do random drug tests? If you have let me know where this place is. I might just apply.
There are a lot of slackers that work in the industry too. People that don't want to punch a time card and want to show up when they want to. They won't get in trouble for being 20 minutes late or not being the nicest person in the world. It's an easy job and you make easy money. Plus, there's not a lot of actual work involved. By that I mean your not going to be lugging around 100lbs of weight all the time or trying to sell enough merch to make good commissions. You sell booze, everyone that walks in the door wants it.
Which reminds me of an ad I saw in the classifieds once for a job.
I actually called about this ad. I figured if everyone bought it then it'd be an easy job. There's no way I'd ever work in a funeral home though. That's just having work and death too close to each other.
So getting used to the different aspects of work is something I've had to deal with. There are only a few people here that I'd deem as slackers. Those are the ones that are getting on my nerves. I'm learning how to deal with those nerves.
In the nightlife you'll find both types of people. Which at times makes it interesting to listen to everyone complain. This person doesn't wash their dishes, this person didn't check those people's i.d.'s or many other things. I get to hear about it all as if I have some mystical power to change the way people are.
Granted, everyone gets burnt out on their job at some point. It's bound to happen after you've done the same job for years. That's why I usually have a time limit on jobs. I work long enough doing something and either I move on to a different position or I move on to a different job. That's just how I work things. After a certain age you either have to get your shit together and save for the future or be prepared to die at some job that you don't like.
Even though I might get burnt out on a job it doesn't give me the ability to let myself go. I don't like being fired from jobs. So I keep doing it until I find something new or better. I don't decide that it's cool for me to break the rules and smoke weed at work, or just decide not to go to work. People depend on me to be there and do my job so that's what I do until I don't need to.
On the other side, a lot of people take jobs in the nightlife because it seems fun. People are drinking, having fun and doing all kinds of weird shit. You get the opportunity to meet lots of different people. If you partake in drugs then your guaranteed to meet even more people of the same kind. Yes, I said it, there are a lot of drug users that work in clubs and bars. Have you ever heard of a club or bar that makes their employees do random drug tests? If you have let me know where this place is. I might just apply.
There are a lot of slackers that work in the industry too. People that don't want to punch a time card and want to show up when they want to. They won't get in trouble for being 20 minutes late or not being the nicest person in the world. It's an easy job and you make easy money. Plus, there's not a lot of actual work involved. By that I mean your not going to be lugging around 100lbs of weight all the time or trying to sell enough merch to make good commissions. You sell booze, everyone that walks in the door wants it.
Which reminds me of an ad I saw in the classifieds once for a job.
Everyone buys it. It's only a matter of time. High Commission Sales Position xxx-xxx-xxxx
I actually called about this ad. I figured if everyone bought it then it'd be an easy job. There's no way I'd ever work in a funeral home though. That's just having work and death too close to each other.
So getting used to the different aspects of work is something I've had to deal with. There are only a few people here that I'd deem as slackers. Those are the ones that are getting on my nerves. I'm learning how to deal with those nerves.
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
7 Deadly Sins - Remixed.
If you haven't heard yet, there's some new sins to look out for. That's right. Pride, envy, gluttony, lust, anger, greed and sloth... You have company.
Pollution, Drugs, Social Inequality, and Genetic Manipulation have now reached the level of Deadly Sin.
I understand that with time some things need to be revised, some things other than religion. I mean honestly, if your religion is based on a 2,008 year old story then how can you change it if it's supposed to be true? Unless you just want to add on new chapters here and there.
Granted, the primary character of any religion is supposedly a constant in every day life. So I guess it could lay down some new ground rules every once in a while. That is if it actually was here and could speak to everyone or at least one person. But then wouldn't everyone think that one person is crazy? Or maybe everyone would be envious of that person for being able to talk to that character. Oh wait, that's a sin...
So to all the ladies and gentlemen that have every had any type of cosmetic surgery guess what? Your going to hell. Any woman that has ever used birth control, your going to hell. Any person that has ever partook in drugs, your going to hell. If you have a business and thus made your life better than your neighbors, your going to hell. If you've ever thrown a cigarette or any type of trash, no matter the size, out of the window of your car, your going to hell.
It kind of makes me wonder. Is there a cushion period here? I mean since these are new Sins do you get a trial time period? Do any of your actions before now count? Cause just yesterday I worked a full day of work and made more money than the bartender. I also threw a cigarette but out the window. I even took a shower with age defying soap (not really but I hope you get the point). That's three of the new sins in just one day! I'm fucked!!
With all these new rules I have a good feeling that everyone will be going to hell pretty damn quick. And we all know what happens when Hell is full. When Hell fills up, the dead will walk the Earth. Which then brings up the whole Zombie subject. Will they be illegal aliens? Will they get equal pay? There will be a whole new set of problems. I just can't wait...
Feel free to check out some of the other articles that I've found.
Eagle Tribune
Times Online
Chicago Tribune
NY Times
The Daily Green
Pollution, Drugs, Social Inequality, and Genetic Manipulation have now reached the level of Deadly Sin.
I understand that with time some things need to be revised, some things other than religion. I mean honestly, if your religion is based on a 2,008 year old story then how can you change it if it's supposed to be true? Unless you just want to add on new chapters here and there.
Granted, the primary character of any religion is supposedly a constant in every day life. So I guess it could lay down some new ground rules every once in a while. That is if it actually was here and could speak to everyone or at least one person. But then wouldn't everyone think that one person is crazy? Or maybe everyone would be envious of that person for being able to talk to that character. Oh wait, that's a sin...
So to all the ladies and gentlemen that have every had any type of cosmetic surgery guess what? Your going to hell. Any woman that has ever used birth control, your going to hell. Any person that has ever partook in drugs, your going to hell. If you have a business and thus made your life better than your neighbors, your going to hell. If you've ever thrown a cigarette or any type of trash, no matter the size, out of the window of your car, your going to hell.
It kind of makes me wonder. Is there a cushion period here? I mean since these are new Sins do you get a trial time period? Do any of your actions before now count? Cause just yesterday I worked a full day of work and made more money than the bartender. I also threw a cigarette but out the window. I even took a shower with age defying soap (not really but I hope you get the point). That's three of the new sins in just one day! I'm fucked!!
With all these new rules I have a good feeling that everyone will be going to hell pretty damn quick. And we all know what happens when Hell is full. When Hell fills up, the dead will walk the Earth. Which then brings up the whole Zombie subject. Will they be illegal aliens? Will they get equal pay? There will be a whole new set of problems. I just can't wait...
Feel free to check out some of the other articles that I've found.
Eagle Tribune
Times Online
Chicago Tribune
NY Times
The Daily Green
Friday, March 07, 2008
The Grape Ladey Cometh...
I saw this a little while back and re-visited it recently. The first video is pretty funny. The second one is hilarious! You have to watch the first to get the second.
Enjoy.
The Grape Lady
The Grape Lady Music Video
I think the second video might actually make it to some dj's set some night. It'd give me a little smile through the night.
-Be Safe.
Enjoy.
The Grape Lady
The Grape Lady Music Video
I think the second video might actually make it to some dj's set some night. It'd give me a little smile through the night.
-Be Safe.
Thursday, March 06, 2008
No man's land...
"You see that cougar down there?"
"The one in green or the one in blue?"
"The green... get her out of here."
It was guaranteed that someone did something stupid when Billy wanted someone out of the bar. "What'd she do?"
"Man, I was standing half way down the bar and she walked up behind me and grabbed me."
"She was behind the bar?"
"Yea man, get her out of here."
Any person that has been in a bar more than once knows you don't go behind it. It's pretty much common sense to everyone. Would you go behind the counter at a McDonald's and make your own burger?
So I walked over to the older lady and stopped next to her. "It's time to go hun."
"What?"
"Get your shit and let's head out."
"What'd I do?"
"You know better than to go behind the bar."
This woman was in her mid to late 40s. I already had it on the tip of my tongue just waiting for her to say something. She looked up at me from her barstool. "I didn't know I couldn't go back there..."
"Your going to tell me, that in your 40 some years you never pieced together that you can't go behind the bar?"
"Well, we were all joking around..."
"So if you joke around with your bank teller you can go behind the counter at your bank?"
"Well.. no.. but.."
"Get your shit and lets go. I'm done with this."
She sat there looking at her friend with a surprised look on her face.
I guess I was having an off night. After she didn't move I reached down and grabbed her purse, "Come on. Let's go."
"You don't have to be rude," she got up and started to put on her coat, "I'm leaving. See?"
"Not fast enough."
It was relatively painless as she left. Her friends even left right after that and apologized for her. I only accept the apologizes to get them away from me. After they're all gone Billy comes back over.
"Hey man, sorry about that. She was just getting more annoying as time went. Just glad she finally fucked up. It's hard to ignore people when they're right there."
"No problem bud, that's what I'm here for."
"The one in green or the one in blue?"
"The green... get her out of here."
It was guaranteed that someone did something stupid when Billy wanted someone out of the bar. "What'd she do?"
"Man, I was standing half way down the bar and she walked up behind me and grabbed me."
"She was behind the bar?"
"Yea man, get her out of here."
Any person that has been in a bar more than once knows you don't go behind it. It's pretty much common sense to everyone. Would you go behind the counter at a McDonald's and make your own burger?
So I walked over to the older lady and stopped next to her. "It's time to go hun."
"What?"
"Get your shit and let's head out."
"What'd I do?"
"You know better than to go behind the bar."
This woman was in her mid to late 40s. I already had it on the tip of my tongue just waiting for her to say something. She looked up at me from her barstool. "I didn't know I couldn't go back there..."
"Your going to tell me, that in your 40 some years you never pieced together that you can't go behind the bar?"
"Well, we were all joking around..."
"So if you joke around with your bank teller you can go behind the counter at your bank?"
"Well.. no.. but.."
"Get your shit and lets go. I'm done with this."
She sat there looking at her friend with a surprised look on her face.
I guess I was having an off night. After she didn't move I reached down and grabbed her purse, "Come on. Let's go."
"You don't have to be rude," she got up and started to put on her coat, "I'm leaving. See?"
"Not fast enough."
It was relatively painless as she left. Her friends even left right after that and apologized for her. I only accept the apologizes to get them away from me. After they're all gone Billy comes back over.
"Hey man, sorry about that. She was just getting more annoying as time went. Just glad she finally fucked up. It's hard to ignore people when they're right there."
"No problem bud, that's what I'm here for."
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