Children of a Lesser God

September 10, 2012
As I work the door at a night club in a small, po'dunk redneck town, I realize more and more that drunk people are like children. They lie, push boundaries, hate being told what to do and they try to rationalize their behaviour when castigated. They often cry, sometimes fight, and occasionally don't play well together. 

Last night a fine upstanding gentleman screamed at his girlfriend outside the bar, punched the brick wall after she walked away from him then, with bleeding knuckles, couldn't understand why I wouldn't let him back in. The tiny bit of professionalism afforded a door man (most of whom are barely above dragging their own bloody knuckles along the pavement) prevents me from saying "Because you're an asshole sir".

Shortly after that the ambulance arrived for the girl who slammed 8 Jagerbombs in 4 minutes and was in desperate need of a good stomach pumping.