Quote (turtol @ Oct 20 2014 10:12pm)
Bouncer is actually a great idea!
you better tell us some cool stories. here's a weird one from the guy i mentioned
Quote
It's still only been about 2 months since I got the job and I'm still getting used to the nightclub world. Baring witness to chronic drug abuse, habitual alcohol intake and promiscuous sexual escapades can be overwhelming. And that's just the rest of the staff.
I'm standing at my post at the back of the club when I notice something that shouldn't be out of the corner of my eye. A young white kid, and I mean kid, is swearing loudly about 15 feet away from me. There's no way he's of age or meets dress code. He looks like an ad for sean jean. Bandannas all over, baggy jeans, a football jersey and a backwards designer hat. I could care less if he somehow got by without meeting dress code but I could tell he's going to be trouble and keep an eye on him. No sooner had I made this mental note he pulls out a cigarette and lights it. Now not only is that against the law and could lose the club it's liquor license it could set off our dodgy at best fire alarm. Fucking idiot.
I make my way over to him and stand in front of him just staring. "Yo why you looking at me dogg?" while dragging on his smoke.
"You've got to be fucking kidding me." I say. I grab the cigarette from his hand and stomp it out of the floor. While debating whether or not I should throw him out for this transgression I feel a palm make contact with my face. Oh my God. Did he just slap me? What the fuck. The look on his face is one of sheer terror, he regrets his action almost immediately, "I'M SORRY MAN!" he yells. Yeah right.
"YOU FUCKING SLAPPED ME?" I yell back, I grab him by the neck and begin dragging him to the back exit. Another bouncer, Tim, comes running over and grabs his legs. We carry him out all the while he's yelling his innocence, "NO DUDE NO DUDE, I DIDN'T MEAN IT". We get to the back door, I kick it open and in unison we throw him out. He lands hard. I slam the door and we make to go back inside. I see Tim bending over something in the alley, "what is it?" I ask.
"Haha, how do I look?" He's wearing the kids designer hat. It must of fallen off while we were carrying him. "Nice man, real nice".
"I think I'm going to wear it for the rest of my shift". Hilarious.
At the end of the night we're all called outside to help clear the sidewalk after a minor brawl. "Go home ladies and gentlemen!" I bellow.
"Yeah, GO HOME WHORES" yells Tim still wearing his new hat.
"THAT'S MY HAT NIGGA" screams someone from the crowd. I turn around to locate the voice. Wow, it looks like the kid we kicked out has been waiting all night on the sidewalk.
"Yeah, it is isn't it?" says Tim nonchalantly.
"My nigga that hat don't even fit you" says the kid. He was right the hat sort of sat on the very top of Tim's bulbous head.
"If you call me AN AFRICAN-AMERICAN CITIZEN again I'm going to take your shoes too" threatens Tim.
In a moment of either bravery or sheer stupidity the kid rushes Tim and tries to grab the hat from his head. "Bad move kid!" says Tim through gritted teeth while pinning the kid to the sidewalk. "YO NIGGA GET OFF ME" whines the kid.
"Now what did I tell you about calling me AN AFRICAN-AMERICAN CITIZEN?". Tim as fast as lightning rips off the kids left shoe and runs back inside the club. The kid looks at me with a look that could probably be best described as "what the fuck?".
"Shouldn't of called him AN AFRICAN-AMERICAN CITIZEN." I say and head back inside.
"Give him his shoe back man, how's he going to get home?" I ask Tim.
"Fuck him, my grandmother was black." says Tim with a huge grin on his face. "What if he gets the cops?" I challenge.
"Fuck them, they going to believe some drunk one shoe'd kid?"
"Well what the fuck are you going to do with one shoe?" a plausible question. Tim just smiles.
On my way home I couldn't help but think how similar this must be to working in a mental hospital.
Believe it or not that's not the weirdest thing a staff member has stolen from a patron. Drugs, phones, jackets everything you could imagine. But those stories are for another time.