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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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

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.

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."

Tuesday, March 04, 2008

Stories...

Every neighborhood has a hierarchy when it comes to the industry, it's a strange, if not quirky, thing. It has a lot to do with how many years a person has worked in the neighborhood, what bar or club they work at, how long they've worked there, and how much trouble they've been in or stopped. How ever you look at it, it all depends on the stories.

I learned a long time ago to not believe stories I've heard. Half the time I don't believe what I see unless I see it plain as day. Every head doorman at every bar got that job for a reason. Usually the reason is just because he stuck around long enough that everyone else quit. Very rarely will you ever hear about someone walking into a place and beating the shit out of a doorman and then getting his job. In fact, I'd say that's nothing more than an urban legend, it just doesn't happen. Sure, doormen get beat up occasionally, if they don't know what their job is or they're not paying attention. Which can be a good reason to find a new doorman.

The hierarchy is a funny thing. It matters to a lot of the old school guys. Guys that were around when all the real shit always used to hit the fan. When knives and guns were a common thing to see in these places. A lot of the new kids don't know much about the hierarchy. They think that just because they work somewhere they should get the same perks as everyone else they work with. It just doesn't happen that way.

The hierarchy is much more than just where you work or who you work with. It's also about the time you've spent doing this work and the many things you've been through. Which brings me back to why I don't believe the stories. I've heard stories about myself that included 4 guys against just me. Not just any guys but big muscle head guys and guys with knives. I can say right now that I've never had either of those fights. I have had a knife pulled on me but never more than one.

It's like playing the game Telephone when you were a kid. By the time you hear the tale it's so misconstrued that you'd think the guy was a giant with a cannon under his arm. In reality it was just some loud mouthed guy that didn't want to leave after he puked in the bathroom.

So I usually stick with people I know and how long they've been around. Certain people I'll help out with anything they need. The ones that I don't know, I don't do anything for until I decide they're worth doing things for.

Casper is always a good one to hear talking. He's been everywhere and seen everything... while sitting on his couch. He hasn't traveled anywhere but if you'll listen he'll tell you all about it. He'll even tell you how he had my back on quite a few fights. Of course, his version of 'having someone's back' is completely different than mine. His includes standing at the other end of the establishment and talking to a woman. Mine would be pulling someone off your back and going to the next. So I don't tend to believe stories about people.

There aren't many Pecos Bills or Paul Bunyans left in the world. There are a few Mike Ds in every neighborhood though. Just depends on where you look.

Wednesday, February 27, 2008

On the outs...

"Your killin me here..." Paulie's elbows rest on the desk while his head rests in his hands.

"I'm just tired man."

"Tired? Of what?"

"The life. Nothing changes. It's constantly the same shit every night."

"Every job gets that way."

"Not like this. It's the same faces day in and out. The same problems that won't change."

"What can we do to change this?"

"I've made suggestions. You know they're good ones. The owners just don't want to do any of it."

"Listen, give me some time, I'll talk to them and see what I can do to keep you around."

"I think your words will just fall on silent ears."

"Let's take that chance."

Saturday, February 23, 2008

Search Terms: Why not to Date your Doorman...

Every once in a while I like to look and see what some of the search terms people use to find this site. There's a lot of them that find this site from terms like "shaved head", "skin head", "how to tip the doorman", and "how to become a bouncer".

The interesting one that I recently found was "Why not to date your doorman".

This actually brought a smile to me. Someone actually went on Google and searched reasons why they shouldn't date a doorman. Now, the term doorman could mean the type of doorman that works at a high rise type of building also. More people associate the term doorman with that type of job than they do a bouncer. I prefer the term doorman because I'm not a bruiser or gorilla.

So let's explore this a little more.

Why shouldn't you date a doorman? I guess it's up to you really. There are a few factors to consider though.

Let's say you do hook up with your doorman at your favorite bar or club.
  • Will that change things?
  • Will it make things hard for him to do his job?
  • Will it make your time there different?
  • If you start dating will you want to hang all over him while he's trying to do his job?
  • If things turn to the worse will you not go there anymore?
  • What if he's really a jerk?
  • What if he doesn't "party" like you do?
  • What if you just don't get along?
These might be strange things to think about but they've been some things that have come up. For instance, Late Night Rendezvous hasn't been seen since that night. Extra Fun Tips has been back but certain "tips" have been found and she no longer can come around. Sueann came back, she talked a little too much crap and she's not returning either.

As a doorman there are things I think about as well. I take it a little more to the extreme than most though.
  • Is this girl a regular?
  • Does she spend lots of money?
  • How many other employees has she been with?
  • Is she a nut job?
  • Is it worth anything?
  • Does she bring in business?
  • Do I want to know more personal things about her?
Basically, I don't care about what these girls might say about me. The people that know me or need to know me.... know Me. The entire population can think what they want but they don't matter.

I guess what I'm getting at is that you should think more about the long term factors. The less the security staff knows about you the better. When things are found out they're easier to find.

I've never been that doorman that goes for the free round of sex or the blow job in the alley to let you in. I tend to have a little more integrity I guess. That might mean that I don't get to "dish" out the dirt on certain beautiful women but I'm happy about that. The less I know the longer people tend to stick around.

Granted, there is always that flaw in any design. I obviously can't say that I've never taken anyone up on their offers. I'm just more discreet about it. I don't believe that everyone needs to know everything that's going on. The less people know about me the easier my job is.

If I did take up more of these offers life would be more crazy. Then again, I've seen enough crazy for now.

Tuesday, February 19, 2008

Late Night Rendezvous...

"So what are you doing after you leave here?"

"Probly heading home."

"You should stop over." She smiled and gave me a little wink from the bright blue eyes that were hiding behind her mop of a haircut. Sally had become a bit of a regular as of late and I've kept the weirdos away from her on a number of times.

"Having a little get together?"

"No, just a couple of people. We'll probably just be sitting around watching movies."

"We'll see, I'm not sure when I'll get out of here."

"Here, take my number. Call me when your leaving and I'll let you know where I am." She smiled and I took her number. Then she walked out with a little over the shoulder smile and a coy wave.


45 minutes later I was done with the things I needed to do. I contemplated whether or not I really wanted to call her. Next sound I heard was Sally's voice on the other end of the line. It sounded triumphant and happy. "So, your gonna come over?"

"Yea, why not. I'll be up late anyways."

"Cool, we'll my address is _______________. It's right over by that old little mom an pop grocery store."

"Ok, I'll be over in a little bit. Lot of people show up?"

"Nah, just my two friends and a couple guys that I don't even know."


25 minutes later I'm knocking on her door. She answers still in the same clothes she had on before. Of course she is, what should she have changed into? We said our hellos, hugged and I walked in.

The apartment was a really nice spot. It had an old building feel and a new building look. In the kitchen stood the two guys that she didn't know. Both in their mid to late 30's and neither of them looked like the could even try to be trouble or their corporate mid level jobs would get rid of them.

We both walk into the kitchen and I introduce myself to the two guys. One recognizes me and the other goes on about how I had thrown him out a year prior. He laughed about the story and I stood there. I remember him after he told the story. I remember even more, how annoying he was.

As I stood there talking to the guys Sally walked off to the bathroom. I could hear her talking to her friends. I could also hear another noise. I sniffing type of noise. Someone was either sick or party favors were being distributed.

"I don't think he'll be interested."

"You never know until you ask."

"I'm not asking him."

About that time a short little portly girl came walking out to the kitchen. As she came walking out she motioned to the bathroom and said, "Party's ready boys." She stopped, wiped her nose and looked at me. "Interested?"

I looked at her and with a blank face simply said, "Not at all."

As the guys walked towards the bathroom I could hear the sniffing continue and Sally walked out. Her hand was coming down from her face and she walked over to me and pushed her friend to the side. "Sorry about her, she's a little different." They giggled and play fought a little.

Sally reached over and grabbed my hand, "So what are you doing?" She looked at me with wide eyes and a grin.

"I was just thinking that I should be going."

With that I grabbed my stuff and started out the door.

Thursday, February 14, 2008

More History and a Response...

This post is a response to "Anonymous" comment to the Expired I.D. II post.

I've worked in several places where the owners or managers have not had my back. They've ok'ed several underage people and people without i.d.'s or with horribly fake i.d.'s. I hated these jobs.

Why? Because I get hired due to my experience and the type of job I have done at other places. I don't get paid to turn my eyes and let shit happen. Guess what? Who's going to get fired if that establishment gets fined or closed down because of these things. The doorman that let them in.

Now it might be different if you have some kind of contract with the place you work at. Or if there are numerous guys at the door then you can probably pawn the blame off on someone else, then live with the fact that you got someone fired for something you did.

I have a different way of looking at things.

If for what ever reason I decide I've had enough of a job or I'm let go for something, I don't care. I walk. I know I can find another job within a month. Sure, it might knock me back financially but if you've never lived like that before then you've never lived.

I have had meetings with owners and management before on this topic. I've told them straight out that this kind of shit doesn't happen or I walk.

I explain that no one should waste anyone's time. I do things my way or not at all.

I can understand letting a few things go if the people are actual friends of management or if the person is obviously of age. But when little Sally comes walking up and she looks all of 15 years old she doesn't come in. Not even if it's management. And I'll tell them right there and then that they can have fun doing my job until they hire someone else because I'll walk.

Now some people might think I'm crazy. In fact, I do myself at times, but this isn't just a part time job so I can have some extra cash. This is a full time job and it's getting very close to being a career. When it's a career type of situation it's more about your track record than it is about having the extra dough to get a PS3 or paying rent.

I live by standards and morals and that's reflected by my work. This is why I have a strict no drinking policy for myself and the other staff. How can the drunk police the drunk?

I can say that I've caused business to go down at certain places I've worked. That's happened due to the piss poor job the doorstaff before me did. So I had to take away a lot of fake i.d.'s, refuse a lot of drunks and ban a lot of previous regulars for selling or doing drugs in the bar.

So a bar can definitely change a lot just due to a new doorstaff. But bars change every few years due to many other things as well.

As for the interaction with the cops, it's much different here. The cops understand that it's our license on the line, they understand the amount of situations I've been through, they know I'm always sober, and I know a lot of them. They also understand that I have the right to refuse service to anyone at any time for any reason. So they always have my back.

Depending on what type of area you work in Anonymous you might want to be a little more vocal with the local police. Keep an eye for them and let them know about a few things here an there. Make friends with them. Even offer them bottled water or a Red Bull from time to time. Being friendly will get their attention and it will open their eyes up a little more to the type of person you are and the type of work you do.

You might want to keep up to date on new procedures that effect them. Talk to them and ask them their opinions. Tell them stories about situations that have been handled without their necessity. If they know your doing things in a way that they don't need to be there for they'll see how much less of a work load they have due to you. When they feel like they're on a common ground they'll respect you more.

So here's what I would do in your situation. Take it with a grain of salt since your not me and I don't know the type of relationship you have with your club's owners and management.

In other words, don't try and blame me if you do any of this and it doesn't work. Your responsible for your own actions.

You can go to the owner and tell him that the door is yours. The decisions you make are final and that's how it is. If that's not acceptable then your walking. However, don't say these things unless your ready to walk. If you don't walk when you say you will the owner will know your full of shit and need the job.

If this is just a part time job for you then let the shit happen. You don't have to put all your jobs down on a resume. If you get fired, you get fired. No biggy, you can still rely on your full time job. I don't know how things work where you are but it should end up costing the owners even more than the amount of money they make off the underage by letting it happen, if they ever get busted.

Do with this as you want. It's only my opinion.

Monday, February 11, 2008

Saturday, February 09, 2008

Nice vs Not So Nice...

Within the past few years I learned what it means to dislike people. In the beginning I hated the world. Then over the years my old self has slowly started to resurface. Let's say the softer side is starting to come back to the battleground. Which isn't always a good thing in this line of work.

You don't want to be soft but you do in certain situations. You can't be an asshole all the time, just at the times you need to.

Over the past month I've been punched, tackled and insulted in many ways. (I'll post these stories in time) Most of which have happened because I was being soft and polite. Strange that people are such assholes. If I had been rude and forceful it more than likely wouldn't have happened.

Time wears a person down and after being an asshole long enough I was getting tired of it. So I decided to be a little nicer. Of course that paid off well... Luckily, no stitches, guns or knives involved as of yet.

There are a few other things I'm trying to change as well that have nothing to do with work. I'm going to try and get back to a gym. It's been a long time since I've been in a gym at all. I've always had that second labor induced job to keep me fit. I haven't had that in a while so it's time to get one or get to a gym. I'd rather have the second job so at least I'm getting paid to bust my ass and not paying for it. Especially since I'm the type to use a personal trainer. Yea, I'm that lazy.

I've never been a fan of working out or going to a gym. I also don't have a clue as to what to do or which machines to use. I never had to use that stuff even when playing football back in the day. I'm just a big country boy that has worked labor jobs his whole life.

So I think the second job option is the better one, once spring hits. Ahh.. back to shoveling ditches and tossing tons of weight all day. Part of me thinks it will actually be fun.

As for being nice to people. I'm done with that. It's back to being the asshole at the door. I'm not a fan of being punched or tackled and I don't want to waste anymore time going to court for people I've had arrested. The judges are starting to know me by face.

A few of the cops have even joked that I should get a badge. Maybe in the future, but not right now. I like dealing with the problems of a confined area rather than an entire town. Besides, most of the cops wish they were me. Since things can happen here and not there. Legalities...

Ok, I'll be back soon with more posts. Until then...

Be Safe.

Tuesday, February 05, 2008

Expired I.D. II: Passport...

"Whadda ya mean I can't come in? That's a passport!"

"I know it's a passport. It's expired by a year. Which means it's no good."

"I just got back from Canada with it."

"I doubt it. You have any other i.d.'s?"

"I don't need anything else, this is my passport."

"You do if your coming in here. Have a good night."

Whether you have a passport or any other kind of i.d. it has to be valid. Any i.d. that is expired is no good. It doesn't matter if it's a Driver's License, State I.D. or a Passport. It has to be valid and it has to be you.

Recently I've been getting a lot of expired passports. People hand them off to younger siblings because they don't need them and can't use them anymore, which is a Federal Offense.

"I bet a cop would say that I could get in."

"Would you like to ask one? There's one right there." I point to a squad car sitting at the corner. "Just remember, it's jail time in a Federal prison if they really want to be dicks."

So the kid goes over to the squad and talks to the cops. Next thing, they walk over to me and ask why I wouldn't let the guy in with his passport.

"Well, the passport expired over a year ago and I don't think it belongs to him."

The cop still had the passport in his hand and started to look closer to the picture. "Where'd you get this passport kid?"

"What? That's me, that's my passport!"

"You have any other i.d. with you to prove that statement?" The second cop started walking behind the kid.

"No, I don't have anything else with me. I got mugged a couple weeks ago and that's all I got."

"Well, if you don't have anything else with you then we'll have to take ya to the station to make sure this is you."

"What!?"

"Yea, and if it's not you then it's off to jail with ya. You understand this right?"

"But.. all I wanted was to have a drink?"

The cop points over at me, "And all this guy is doing is his job. I'll give you a chance, if this isn't you and you admit it now, we'll let you go here and now. If it is you then you have no reason to not go with us."

The kid stood there, it looked like he was actually thinking over the options. Freedom or Jail. Big decision...

"Can I just go home?"

"Sure thing," the cop started to turn and nodded at me, "We'll see ya later Mike."

After the cops left the kid stood there for a few more minutes. Finally he spoke. "Why'd you have to be such a dick?"

"Kid, your the one that took it too far. I said no, you got the cops and had your passport taken. Learn when to drop things."

"Fuck you," the kid walked off.

Thursday, January 31, 2008

End of Night Round Up...

At the end of the night I like to keep up to date with my staff. If something happened I like to know what happened, how it happened and who it happened with. Just a little way to keep a step ahead of anyone that tries to come back and cause shit.

I heard about an argument between Mark and a patron that ended up in Mark screaming at the man and removing him.

"So what happened man?"

"Well, this guy just wouldn't be quiet. He kept talking back to me and he just wouldn't listen to what I was sayin."

"What'd he do?"

"Well, I got a complaint from a couple of girls that he kept just staring at them. They asked that I ask him not to anymore." Mark stood there for a minute and started again. "I went over to talk to him and he just wouldn't listen. Every time I tried to talk to him he'd turn away. When I tried to turn him towards me he started yelling at me and I started yelling at him."

"What brought it up to him being kicked out?"

"He shoved me away from him after I was done tellin him he had to leave the girls alone."

"Next time, get rid of the guy after the first time. If anyone gives you any shit get rid of them from the start. Don't get pulled into the shouting game cause that turns into an argument and then it turns into a fight. Resolve the situation before it starts."

"Well, I was trying to.."

"Listen kid, your new to the game. Remember, your right and they're wrong. What ever stance you take, you keep. You don't change your stance unless management tells you to. And you can argue with them after work."

"So I should have just thrown him out for staring at the girls?"

"No... For not listening to you and ignoring you. People that disrespect the door staff will disrespect everyone else. Fuck 'em, they can leave and someone else can take their spot. Quiet night otherwise?"

"Yea, pretty quiet."

"How you getting home?"

"My bike's outside."

"Ok, be safe and keep your eyes open."

Saturday, January 26, 2008

Heath Ledger...

I've never been one of those people that gets caught up with stardom. I've met a lot of different stars from music to film and most of them are nothing more than a regular person like me or you. Well, regular people with lots of cash is a better way to put it.

I never did meet Heath Ledger. In fact, I'm so oblivious to who's who that, I didn't know that he made any movies between Brokeback Mountain and the new Batman-The Dark Knight movie.

I've already heard many people talk about how he had tons of money and that's what happens. Really? Just because you have lots of money it means that you become addicted to drugs or that you become depressed? It's funny hearing these people say these things as their own nose is caked with a white powder. These very same people that I see on an almost nightly basis.

Addiction isn't a wealthy man's disease. Being wealthy just makes it easier. When your wealthy you don't have to rob people at gun point or steal purses from clubs. You just waste your money and then go out with a bang.

Heath Ledger was a great actor. He just got caught up in his own problems and no one tried very hard to stop him.

I have a rule when it comes to addicted people. If a friend of mine has a problem, I try to help them. I'll talk to them, I'll be there when they need it, and I'll try to get them the help they need.

However.

Once they go past that point of no return, I'm done. If you shove me away and tell me to get screwed enough times, I'll forget you exist.

I don't need your problems to effect my life. That's why I forget about you. Once you get to that point your not you anymore. Your a creature that has forgotten everything about who you used to be.

Hopefully, someone tried to help him. If not, then they might need the help as well.

Tuesday, January 22, 2008

The Strip Joint...

One of the many security jobs I've had was in a strip club. It wasn't a nice place but it helped to pay the bills - when I got paid.

It was a dirty place that you never wanted to see with the lights fully up. Even the girls weren't all that great to look at. There was definitely a selection of girls though. There was the 40 some year old Hispanic mother of 5, the flat chested coke addicted college girl, the 5'3" 170lb woman that could only breathe through her mouth and a whole slew of others.

Among them all was the Mother Hen. She was the girl that did all the scheduling for the girls. She could either make it possible for a girl to make money or make it so she never came back. To the girls she was a total bitch. To the door staff she was lovely.

Although this place had a maximum of 25 people in there on any given night she always made good money. I called her Tammy but many people called her Momma. She was the reason a lot of people stuck around.

The owners of the club were as shady as the location of the club. It was in the middle of nowhere, the front of the club was the only area that wasn't overgrown by trees and shrubbery. I was told there was a little lake farther in the back but I never took that path to see it.

The club had a different name every six or eight months. Management would change hands just as often but always between the same three guys. Some kind of legal garble because the city was constantly trying to shut the place down. The city was more interested in keeping a moral facade.

I ended up leaving this job for several reasons. The atmosphere wasn't the greatest, most of the women that worked there were ugly and the paychecks stopped showing up.

During one of the management changes somehow all the employee records were misplaced. At the time I was always copying my time card due to possible misplacements. So when I showed them this they tore it up and tossed it away.

After a month and a half of no pay I left. I had no intention in sticking around if I wasn't going to get paid.

A couple months later I stopped in to see a friend that still worked there. I walked up to the door and said hello to the head doorman. He asked for my i.d. and acted like he never knew me. The times that we stood and made fun of the many drunken illegal aliens were gone. He had erased his mind of my total time there.

I walked over and talked to my friend and he had hurried the conversation along. All matters were cut short and he hurried me along.

When I talked to Tammy she took her time and basically explained that the management was upset with me and didn't want me there - at all. That's when I noticed there were many eyes on me. Tammy told me that she'd give me a call the next time she had a party and I exited the building.

As I started to pull out of the parking lot I noticed the doorman and the owner standing outside watching. I never did hear from Tammy again. I knew I wouldn't.

Recently I drove past where the club was. The building still stands but it's completely overgrown now and dead. I had thought about stopping there just to see if it was still the same. The windows are boarded up and the door had "Closed" spray painted on it.

Looks like the city finally got what they wanted. Morality reigns.