The Elephant Man

We'll call him Lumpy. He's this very strange dude that hangs out in the bar. But not strange in a "I bet he'd be interesting if we just got to know him" way. Strange in a "I bet he'd murder us and keep our heads in his freezer while he stitched our skin into a Zoot suit if we just got to know him" kind of way.

Lumpy comes in during the day mostly . Usually drunk. When the girls would serve him at the bar he'd order bottles from the bottom of the coolers so he could stare at their asses while they bent down for them. Once he was caught taking picture of one of the girls. He's no longer allowed to use his camera in the bar. All of Lumpy's jokes involve murdering and dismembering hookers. He's no longer allowed to tell jokes in the bar.


When I used to bartend Lumpy would always ask to sample various beers on tap, then give me his long-winded opinions how much malt was in each particular one, or whether or not the brewer had used too much rice, or hops. If I didn't pay enough attention to Lumpy, I'd usually hear him holler "Heeeey Tar-Bender! Oh Taaaar- Bender!" I know. Hilarious. Other times he would just make sort of yipping sounds and I would tell him to knock it off or he'd have to leave. He ends up cut off. Then he always insists on going to the bathroom before paying and usually spends a half hour in there. Sometimes he falls asleep in the stall. Sometimes he talks to himself in the mirror.

Lumpy is dirty. He's got meth-head teeth. Looks like he's always just finished tearing apart an engine. He's also got this strange large lump on the right side of his forehead. It's like he was smoked in the head with a golf club and the welt never subsided.

Lumpy staggered to the bar the other night but didn't come in right away, he kind of hid around the corner of the bar for a few minutes before sauntering in. I asked him for his ID and promptly got an inventory of every card in his wallet as he announced each card filed through in the search for his picture ID. Lumpy has a license to drive a forklift and is an AMA member.

Lumpy was wearing his sunday best, dirty sweats, a denim vest and a ball cap you couldn't see the logo of. He sat down at the bar and ordered a beer and then proceeded to attempt to talk to the prettiest girl in the bar. She politely ignored him and focused her attention with laser precision on her friends as he drunkly tried to get her attention, tapping her arm with the back of his hand. I almost felt bad for him as he tried to join their conversation. Thats when he reached over and took a shot from the bar in front of them while they were looking away, trying not to make eyecontact with him. My sympathy ended there.

Big A was already within arms reach of him when I arrived. Our manager was telling him he needed to pay for the shot and leave. Ok he said. But he had to go to the bathroom first.  Go figure. She said fine. Big A hung out by the bathrooms to ensure he didn't try to make a run for it. Lumpy bounced off both walls of the hallway as he staggered to our bathrooms.

Lumpy came back out and tried to walk by the bar, but Big A grabbed him and turned him to face our manager who was ready with his bill and the debit machine. Lumpy dug through his wallet, taking inventory again, of each card in there before producing his debit card. It was an Edmonton Oilers debit card. Figures.

The Oilers Card. For when you don't want to pay.

After repeatedly punching the wrong buttons on the debit machine Big A (a full foot taller than Lumpy) stood over his shoulder and pointed to each button he needed to push. Turns out Lumpy had the same amount of money in his pocket as the Oilers have had Stanley Wins in the last 25 years.

The manager got tired of this game and said screw it. For the six bucks he owed us it wasn't worth our while. Big A guided him out while I cleared a path in case Lumpy decided to get squirrely.

I took my spot back at the door with James. Lumpy stood for a second before turning on me. Apparently he had something on his lumptastic mind.

"What's your name?" he demanded.
"Joe"
"Joe..." he mused "I think you're lying to me"  he's smarter than he looks, but I wasn't giving him any credit. I looked at James.
"What's my name?" I asked.
"Joe" he said flatly. I just gave Lumpy a 'well there you then' shrug. Lumpy teetered while he mulled that over.

"You know what 'JOOOOOEEE'.... as if Joe was a fake name I give to drunks and he'd somehow outsmarted me.
"What?" I asked.
"Jooooeee....I spend a lot of fucking money at this place..." he said lifting a finger for emphasis. I think he meant to point it at me but ended up pointing at some empty space between James and I. James had had enough.

"Time to go" he said with enough edge in his voice that I knew he was short on patience with our filthy patron.

Then Big A came out with Lumpy's debit card in his hand. He pushed it into Lumpy's chest. Lumpy clutched at it and almost dropped it.
"Don't come back" Big A said before turning to head back inside. Apparently he wasn't in the mood to argue about it.

"Time to go" James repeated. Lumpy started to walk away he turned and pushed a finger into James shoulder and started to say something. I stepped forward and told him it was time to go, again. He caught the drift and staggared away.

A couple days later I stopped in to pick up some take out from the bar and was telling the story to the staff. One of the waitresses told me that he came back on Sunday looking for his debit card. He said he must have gotten a little carried away Saturday night because he lost his card and couldn't remember leaving. The waitress told him we had given him his card back already and that he wasn't welcome back. She said he was really hurt by that and said that it was too bad because he really liked our bar.

Brazil Nuts

Four Brazilian kids came in last Friday. There's the tall good natured kid in a grey sweater, a weird smaller kid who looks like an elf, another douchebag with a little moustache and a new guy with a stupid pony tail.

Tall kid is alright, pleasant enough, never causes trouble. Rumour is he sells weed, but he seems to get that it can’t be done in our bar.

The elf is a douche bag weirdo. Super aggressive with girls, hands all over, doesn't understand 'no', always seems to be in the middle of some sort of trouble. He usually wears a toque way on the back of his head, and a ratty cardigan and skinny jeans. He just pisses me off in every way. One of our younger waitressed told me last week that "no he's not an asshole, he's fun". 

The moustache dude is another piece of shit. He’s handed out half-drank leftover beers to drunk girls, he’s been super aggressive with women on the dancefloor, and we even caught him with a significant amount of weed in the bathroom. We’ve banned him for a while but started letting him and his buddies come back.

The Ponytail freak is new. Seen him around once or twice. Never made an impression on me one way or the other. Until Friday.

It was a pretty good Friday, we were busy. I was working with James, CT and Big A. At some point a body builder looking short guy and his tispy body builder girlfriend showed up. Later, their friend, a blond girl arrived. I asked for ID and she rolled her eyes and handed me her ID and looked away as though I was wasting her time. I let her in and she gave me a quick condescending smile before rolling her eyes and stomping into the bar. Blondie was a bit of a bitch, but that’s nothing new ‘round her I guess.

CT spent a chunk of the night avoiding/entertaining a girl he’d ‘gotten to know’ the weekend before. We were teasing him about his new stalker/love interest over the radio when suddenly he said “Hey, take a look inside guys”

James looked and went in. It seemed there was an argument between the weightlifting team and the Brazilians. I hung halfway back keeping my eye on the door, CT and Big A were approaching the group as well. The argument went through the motions but seemed to resolve itself. The girls in the group just wanted to leave and were motioning the boys to go. James was about to walk away when suddenly people started shoving.

The Muscle-y dude started to step towards the PonyTail weirdo, but CT wrapped him up. James stepped in front of the Pony Tail weirdo who was now completely outside the fray, but still screaming at the Muscle-y dude for some reason. The girlfriend was slapping James on the back of his bald head. A table went over and glass shattered, I ran around and pulled off a guy who was trying to get at the group, I think it was the Moustache Douche.  The tall kid was trying to pull the Elf-looking weirdo out of the group. We had it pretty much tied up when suddenly I heard glass break.

The douchebag-asshole-coward PonyTail freak reached over James, and smashed a bottle over the Muscle-y guy’s head. CT had been holding the guy back and hand his arms pinned to his side. The glass and beer exploded over the guys head and burst square into CTs face like a shotgun blast. He spun around into me and I could see he was cut up pretty good. He ran over to check on the Muscle-y guy. He had a deep gash down his forehead to his eyebrow. Ten or twelve stitches worth. 

“I got bottled” he said with short lived disbelief. Then the rage took over “Where the fuck did he go!?”

Both guys looked like a horror movie. There was blood everywhere.

“I don’t know, I didn’t see who did it but you’re cut pretty bad, we’re gonna get you an ambulance and the cops are coming” I hadn’t actually seen the guy who did it, but found out later that Big A had grabbed him and practically carried him outside then ran back in to help us. I saw on the video later that the Elf looking asshole had gone out and told PonyTail to run.

The Muscle-y guy ran outside and announced he was going to kill the guy who bottled him.  He tried to get at the remaining Brazilians but James and Big A got him calmed down. I went over and told him that we had a pretty good idea who the guy was and that the cops were coming, the whole thing was on video and that they’d get him. “Let me get him” he said infuriated. Not happening big guy.

Suddenly Blondie, who was such a charmer earlier, is my best friend, begging me to help her cut up muscle man. We got him some towels to help stop the bleeding.

All of a sudden he caught sight of one of the Brazilians and lost his shit. He went flying around the corner and tried to grab one. Big A was quick to grab him and I was right behind. At some point I had my arms around his body, he turned to get free and elbowed me in the face. He suddenly stopped turned and apologized. I almost laughed. 

“Its ok buddy but look, cops are here. You’re not gonna do yourself any good getting arrested.” He found that agreeable.

Cops showed up, ambulance showed up, they looked over Muscle-y guy and CT. Muscle-y guy got a lift to the hospital. CT decided chicks dig scars and declined to get the stitch or two he probably needed.  The bar had emptied so I told CT he was done for the night. He was lucky to still have his vision.

Days later I found out that one of our regulars was a roommate of Elf-face and Ponytail asshole. PonyTail claims he was the victim and just defending himself. The video shows a much different story fortunately. The video shows he was no only not being attacked, but his supposed attacker was being held back by on bouncer and blocked by another.  This dick head had to practically climb over James to hit the guy with a bottle, cutting him badly and almost blinding one of my buddies. Hopefully PonyTail get deported after a few months in jail having his hair used like a handle. Yup, that’d be nice.

Anyway, CT is fine, like a trooper he was back to work the next day. The cops came by to get the video earlier this week. And there’s pretty much only one kind of Brazilian allowed in our bar now.

If you know what I’m sayin’.

The Leprechaun 2 The Return of the Green Gut!

Last Saturday “The Drunkest Leprechaun” returned. You might remember him from an earlier post: The Drunkest Leprechaun He’s a nice enough guy, but he drinks WAY too much and stumbles around like a bumbling idiot. We haven’t let him inside in months.

I was talking with James when I saw a cabbie losing his shit about something, hands waving about, pointing, flicking invisible things from the air, whacking the dash of his minivan.  

“Is that the Drunk guy from St. Paddy’s day?” I asked.
“I dunno” said James, taking a closer look. The passenger opened the car door and stumbled out awkwardly, almost face planning into a Kia.
“Yep! We gonna let him in?”
“I don’t know yet, lets see” Leprechaun stumbled over the curb then almost fell over trying to high five a tall, skinny smoker.
“Nope!” we chimed.
Our holdout from march 17^th weaved to the door but James just shook his head. No entry tonight pal. He got a fist bump for his efforts.

The Leprechaun bobbed amongst the smokers, shaking hands and hugging everyone in sight. Eventually he jitterbugged his way to a group of girls sitting on a bench. After a moment one of them started waving frantically to me. I sauntered over to their spot. 

The Leprechaun had grabbed his impressive pot belly and was lifting it up and down. The cartoon character Animal from the Muppet show, emblazoned on the front of his shirt did a little dance with the motion. “This is horrible. Just awful!” he declared as four 18 year old girls watched with horror and laughing embarrassedly at the clown in front of them. He then started rubbing his belly with both hands, as though he might be able to see the future in it. The 18 year olds should have been horrified as they were most likely looking at their own futures.

“This is just awful right?” the Leprechaun repeated, speaking as though he had just noticed his gut for the first time.
“Lets go get you a cab” I said.
“Yeah, OK” he said. I could feel the relief wash over four 18 year old girls sitting on the bench behind me. I thought, be happy if this is the worst guy you have to deal with in your just blossoming drinking career, gals.

Back at the door James got another fist bump. Then I got one. James looked down and saw that the Leprechaun was bleeding “Hey you’re bleeding” he pointed to the drunk man’s leg.
There was a line of dried blood on his shin, and two more on his calf and ankle. He lifted his leg and rubbed at his shin, which only served start the flow of blood all over again. He turned to try and see his own calf reminding me of a dog trying to catch his own tail, turning, turning, turning.

The sole of his Burkenstock was drenched in blood, his heel stained red. He shrugged and staggered off to a cab who wouldn't let him in. I went in and got a damp paper towel so he could at least clean himself up a bit and maybe have a better shot at getting a lift out of my immediate area.

I came back out and he was fist bumping James again. I approached and he started going on about how awesome we were, and offered me a high five. A high five that I knew would become a bro hug if I fell for it again. I just handed him the paper towels. He looked at them as though I’d handed him something beautiful and confusing. The meaning of life wrapped around last years tax code. “To clean yourself up” I said.

With a dull spark of realization he took the paper towels and then grabbed my hand (Dammit to hell! I really need to start carrying hand sanitizer). Then he bent over, looked at his leg and stuffed the wet paper towel in his pocket. Then waddled off to the taxi stand. Eventually he found a cab who would take him and disappeared. For at least a week or two.

Stripes

Saturday was interesting. 

I showed up to see a big biker sitting at the window wearing his cut, which is illegal in our province. Can’t wear gang gear in a licensed establishment. James said that one of the waitresses told him he’d have to take it off but he ignored her. I said no problem, I’ll get into my gear and go talk to him. I came back out and he was already talking to some guy. They were looking at a police car up at the other end of the mall. I looked at the biker, 6’7” well over 300lbs and said,
“Yeah man, if they see you here with your cut they’ll pull you out, question you and won’t let you back in. I’m not allowed to let you in with that on either”

He was pretty good about it, pulled it off and threw it in his truck as the cops drove out of the parking lot. 

“Thanks, enjoy your night”
About 2 hours later a cop in a supervisor car rolled by and flagged me over.
“Anything going on tonight?”
“Nope, just the regulars” I said. It was actually pretty quiet with everyone behaving.
“We’ll be back” he said and sped away.

Fifteen minutes later every cop in town rolled in. They gathered outside the bar, then 10 cops went inside. 2 minutes later 2 of them came out with a guy in cuffs. Threw him in a car and drove away. Then a couple of them started talking to the big biker. As they were doing that his buddy, a skinny little old dude missing all four of his front teeth jumped behind a cop and pretended he was humping him from behind. Toothy came flying out the front door about a second later, admonished to stay out until the RC’s had left. He just laughed the toothless laugh of an old rummy, and stood around smoking.

They brought the big biker out and read him the part of the liquor act that says gang members can’t enter licensed establishments. Since he had no tattoos and was no longer wearing his cut, they said he could stay if it was ok by us. The guy wasn’t causing any trouble and was still sober so I said sure. He stood around for about a half our telling me about his constitutional rights. I'm a door guy, not a lawyer.

Of course they're real!

After that a girl in a skin tight striped dress, and older lady in a tie dyed top and a blonde with impossibly huge fake breasts walked up. Stripes didn’t have her ID and was furious that we made her go back to her car for it. The older lady didn’t have hers either. I started to joke with her that I wasn’t sure she was old enough when Stripes freaked out and told me that OBVIOUSLY they were all over 40. Boobzilla just looked at me and blinked. I let them in.

About 10 mins later one of our guys, CT, came up and shook his head. “You gotta see these girls, they’re crawling on the floor, flashing their thongs, its nasty in there.” CT has standards, but is no prude by any means, so I wandered in to see. Sure enough, Stripes was lying on the floor, legs spread, while Boobzilla was grinding in the air over her. I told CT to tell them to knock it off. He went over and told them to tone it down. Stripes told him to relax, that her dad owned the strip mall we were in, said she’d take him home if he was nice. Boobzilla blinked and smiled.

Stripes did tone it down a bit but we were still occasionally treated to random views of her thong. After a few more drinks she started making out with Boobzilla who appeared to enjoy the whole thing, blinking emphatically.

Later, CT asked Stripes not to stand on a bar stool. She was pretty wobbly at this point. She leaned down and told CT he should calm down and stop being “That Guy”. Eventually CT got her down. She wandered over to where Boobzilla was standing on the dance floor by the door and started making out with her. Boobzilla then pulled down the front of her top exposing her cartoonishly large breasts. They bounced in Stripes’ face and they all laughed. Meanwhile, half the guys in the place were parked at tables facing the dance floor, watching this display of class. The manager told us Stripes was cut off.

About 10 minutes later Stripes came flying out and tore a strip off CT for cutting her off. I’m not even sure CT knew anything about it. He said he didn’t know anything about. She demanded to know who cut her off. “I dunno, someone who thinks you’re too drunk” he shrugged.

Stripes stormed back in, furious that a bar would DARE cut off the daughter of a strip mall magnate such as herself. On her way she smashed into a small girl standing at a table by the door. The girl looked and stripes and said “Why did you hit me?”
Stripes, oblivious to her own actions, looked confused and told the tiny girl she didn’t do anything, and to fuck off.

The girl looked at Stripes and lost it, swinging at her in great arc, catching her forehead and nose on the down stroke. Stripes swung back and missed, hitting me in the shoulder as I stepped in. We got them broken up and the little girl was dragged outside.

Stripes looked at me and screamed “She hit me, I want to press charges”
“Relax” I said, “She’s gone, its over”
“NO! YOU SAW THAT! I’m pressing CHARGES!” she insisted in her best princess tantrum.
“Then call the fucking cops” I said walking away, irritated with this self-important mess in a striped dress. I went to see what happened to the other girl.

The other girl was being held back by friends and was pretty much over it when Stripes marched out announcing she was pressing charges.The little one lost her shit and started pulling away from her friends. A group of cops having a pow-wow in the parking lot wandered over and everyone started to calm down. Little chick’s friends dragged her off before she could get arrested. Stripes marched over to the cops and started sticking fingers in the chests demanding that they press charges. The big cop who had been in earlier looked at her and said. “Don’t touch me” 

I walked away. I ended up talking to another cop who asked why the guy in the Harley jacket with the little tiny man bun was sitting on a bench watching them. I told him Man Bun was waiting for them to leave so he could drive his bike home. Shitfaced. “Noted” the cop said.

“I told him he shouldn’t, his friends told him he shouldn’t, but he’s determined” I said.
Just then Stripes blew by us looked at me, wagged a finger at me and said “You! Shouldn’t…” then she couldn’t think of anything else and staggered over to Boobzilla and Old Tye Dye, who just blinked. They all hugged and Stripes flipped us off and landed in a cab, gone for the night.

I found out after from a friend at work that Stripes actually didn't have a credit card to start a tab, so she had offered up her watch as security. When she went to pay her tab she demanded that they return her "priceless Rolex". It was something more in range of a priceless Timex, but really, who's gonna argue when she's just about to leave the building.

The cops, suddenly all scrambled, jumped in their cars and took off. Man Bun saw this as his opportunity. He swaggered over to his bike, looking up and down the road for cops as he put his lid on. “Dude” I yelled. He wasn’t a bad guy, just has a case of stupid.

He turned and looked at me.
“All those cops are here because there’s nothing going on tonight. That means they will be nearby waiting for drunk drivers. You’re gonna get caught.” “I don’t fucking care, I can’t leave her here” he nodded at his hog. “You shouldn’t drive bro, you’re gonna wreck yourself” I tried another tact.

He then told me he only came down to see one of our bartenders, and that he was worried she might have seen him making out with a couple of different girls (Who turned out to be Stripes and the little chick…maybe there was more to that fight than a simple bump in passing)

He then announced he was Canadian and free to travel. And he was staying at the same hotel as Stripes. He wasn’t afraid. Fuck it. He hopped on and kicked the bike over. I shrugged and walked away. He was going to drive right by the spot where the cops wait for drunks coming out of our parking lot and I gave him fair warning.
He swung his bike around in a huge circle coming within inches of smashing into a line of parked cars. James just looked at me and said “Holy shit, did he just about hit all those cars!?” “Yup”

We went inside and had a well-earned Schlong Island Iced tea.

Space Oddessy

A few weeks ago we had a little excitment.

There’s a guy who used to come in. He was not well liked. He is big, arrogant, swaggered around like he owned the place. I'm not sure he's that bright, certainly does not take direction and is pretty rude to some of the staff. Then one day, he came in with a tattoo that was almost identical to one that one of our female bartenders had. I thought she was over reacting until, weeks later, I finally saw it. It was actually pretty creepy. Not only was it a blatant rip off, but it was almost in the same spot on his arm, and given that he flirted with her every time he came in…it was pretty creepy. The door guys agreed to keep a better eye on him when he was around. That problem solved itself later in the evening.

Here's a couple articles on why you shouldn't rip off other people's tattoos. Other than it being creepy and douchey: 

www.margotmeanie.com/2013/10/16/dont-be-a-tattoo-copy-cat/ 

http://www.yourtattooguru.com/etiquette/copycat-tattoos-and-why-not-to-get-them/

Time went by, we ID’d people and kept an eye on things. At some point just before dark, (Dark in Canada in June is like 11pm) a guy, his girlfriend and his sister showed up. The sister was a fucking space cadet. She was 100 lbs soaking wet, vacant look in her eyes wearing one of those flat brimmed Fox Racing ball caps that was way too big for her Chihuahua-like melon. I asked her a few questions and she kinda half answered, unimpressed that I was interrogating her with intrusive personal questions like, “Hows your night going? What are you guys up to tonight? Been anywhere else this evening?” At anyrate she didn’t seem like too much trouble, just a fucking space cadet. If I didn’t let space cadets in the place would be half empty most of the time.

An hour later a fight breaks out. James and I run in, Big T is holding a group of people back. Tattoo Guy and his buddies are on the other side of the confrontation and just turned and left. Ok, that problem is solved. I turn to the other guy, the space cadet’s brother, who’s being blocked by Big T from following Tattoo Guy and his boys.

“Im gonna kill that fucking guy” He screamed.
“Calm down, what happened?”
“He fucking sucker punched me!” He screamed.
“Stop screaming” I looked at the bartender who was nodding that yes, that was indeed what happened.
Screamer tried to get by us and we pushed him back.
“Hey! We’ve kicked them out, its over!” I said “If you wanna calm down and relax you can stay and enjoy your beer with your friends.”

He tossed that around for a bit, then leaned back apprehensively, muttering about who he was going to kill and when. I watched the video later and tattoo guy had open hand slapped Screamer while he was talking to someone else. He hit him so hard he knocked over two chairs as he flew across the front of the bar.

That’s when someone told us there was a fight going on outside.

We ran out to find Space Cadet latched on to one of Tattoo Guy’s buddies near their car. He was spinning around like a whirling dervish trying to peel her off. She had her claws caught up in his TShirt, screaming at him. We went over and tried to pull her off, but she wouldn’t let go. Finally buddy just slipped out of his shirt, jumped in his car and drove away. 

Space Cadet then turned and swung at James, hitting him with her tiny meth fist. He simply pushed her over. She landed on her ass, scrambled to a crouch, then, like something out of a videogame, threw a giant exaggerated uppercut, catching James in the junk. He threw his hips back and shoved her back again. She got up again and tried to kick him. This time he grabbed her foot out of the air and lifted. Boom. On her ass again. He grabbed her arm flipped her on her face and told her to calm down. 

Well that was it. Now she was mad. She was going to sue. We were monsters for hitting a girl, we were going to jail, she was going to kill us, what were our names, she was pressing charges. Etc. etc. Finally I tagged James out, he let her up and I stepped between them. I tried to calm her down but she was in some sort of Jack Daniels/Meth Fueled hysteria. That’s when the mall cop showed up. A gangly private security guard in a smart uniform hopped out of a marked security vehicle and decided he would take charge. Fine by me. I left Space Cadet in his care. I turned to see her brother, the Screamer, being held back by Big T. Perfect.

Eventually we all went back to the door. Big T let the brother go telling him to stay away from the door. James was standing by the door, visibly angry and rightfully so. I was frustrated by this point. We let the sister back in to grab Space Cadet’s wallet so they could leave. That’s when space Cadet wheeled away from the security guy and got in my face. “I want that guys name” she flung a bony meth-head finger at James.

“I don’t know his name”
“Yes you do” she spat, then tried to get back in the bar.
“You can’t go in, you need to leave before you get arrested” I said.
“Yeah? What are you gonna do about it?” With that, she jumped a full foot off the ground and headbutted me in the bridge of the nose. I pushed her as she came up and she went flying back into the gravel across the sidewalk.  The mall security professional then grabbed her and pulled her away, squirming and wriggling trying to get back at me.

That’s when the cops showed up.

I guess somebody had called as this had been going on for some time. Upon seeing 6 cruisers pull into the parking lot, the hillbilly threesome decided they should leave. They headed toward the road when one of the cops pulled up and asked me what was going on. I pointed to my new friends and said they were involved in a fight, we just wanted them gone. “No problem”

He said something into his radio and our scrappy threesome was stopped by another set of RCMPs. 

We could see them talking with the group then suddenly the brother got cuffed and thrown in the back of a cop car. The officer I’d talked to earlier came by and asked what happened. I told him and he just laughed. He said the brother was being an asshole and was spending the night in the tank. 

“You know, if they’d just calmed down we would have let them stay” The cop just shrugged and walked away saying they definitely wouldn’t be back.

So now Tattoo guy is finally banned and his creepiness/sucker-punchiness will no longer be our problem. Some things solve themselves.

Side Boob Hour

Friday night Detroit returned. She got dropped off and sauntered up to the bar with a huge smile on her face. We just looked at her, amazed she had the gall to return. James clenched his jaw and shook his head at her. 

“Oh come on, I’ll behave I promise” she laughed.

“Nope,” James replied “three strikes, you’re out”

She looked a little hurt but was undeterred “oh, but I’ve learned my lesson” she cooed. She was wearing a short dress that was cut in a way that would have made here the star of Peter Griffin’s “Side-boob Hour”
James stood his ground.

“But I just got dropped off!” she said, obviously hurt.
“There’s cabs right over there” I offered. She ignored me and looked at James.
“Can we talk over here?” she asked pointing to a spot away from the door; and ear shot.
“Sure, but it won’t make any difference”

They walked away and had a quick conversation resulting in Detroit stomping away like a child who did NOT get her way. She hopped in a cab and never returned.

“How’d that go?” I asked jokingly.

“She said she’d make it worth my while.” James said flatly.

“So is coming back then?” I joked again.

“No” he said even more flatly, then kind of shook as though a chill went through him.

“She also told me she wasn’t wearing any underwear” he continued. Then a chill went through me.

Saturday started slow, but it picked up around 11. At one point I looked outside and saw James

dealing with a line. In the middle of the line was a dude wearing one of those furry hats with a face and ears on it that has two long arms stretching down with pockets/mittens at the end. His looked like some sort of fox, or maybe a bear. It looked like something you’d see a Japanese school girl at a comic book convention wearing. Whatever. He was a space cadet. He looked like he might have done ALL the drugs that night. But, he seemed relatively harmless so he was let in.

After about an hour I saw him being pulled off the dancefloor. He struggled and ended up on the wet floor with about 600lbs of bouncer holding him down. I wandered over to keep anyone from dummying one of our guys from behind. He gave up fighting and said he’d go peacefully if we found his animal hat thing. I grabbed it and brought it out to him. Then he asked for his girlfriend. Fine…I’ll get her now too.

I found her sitting all cozy with some dude. I said “Hey, are you with that dude with the furby hat?”
“Yeah” she said.
“Well, we tossed him out, his waiting outside for you”
“I don’t want to go outside” she said.
Fine by me. I went back out and told Furby his girl was staying.
“But that’s my girlfriend” he said all wide eyed and confused.
“Yeah well, I can’t MAKE her come out(I suppose I could have, but why bother) so you’ll have to call her later, but you need to leave now or I’m gonna have you arrested”
“Can I go in and talk to her?” he asked, the same way a child might ask if he could pet your Doberman.

“No, you need to leave, now”

Furby took off for a bit, then came back, then left and came back, each time explaining that he had a girlfriend and she was inside.

I found out later that Furby’s girl was talking to some guy on the dancefloor, Furby took exception and tried to shove the guy a few times.  That’s why he got tossed. The girlfriend and the other dude were still inside getting cozy.

Eventually she came out with the cozy dude. Furby was standing at the end of the building smoking. His girlfriend walked over, they chatted for a minute and then left together, leaving the cozy dude standing there looking foolish.

Three girls walked up, one of them worked for us before and the others were regulars. All three girls are very pretty, and very lesbian. As they chatted with us on their way in Cozy guy walked up and started chatting them up. “Hey, if you ladies are going in, can I get a dance?”
I laughed and shook his shoulder. “You ever hear the term ‘barking up the wrong tree’ bud? It’s not your night.”
He just looked at me confused. The girls blew him off and went inside. He followed them sadly and desperately.

And that was pretty much it for Saturday. 

Orange is the New Drunk

Some guy came out of the bar one night and told my co worker he was an ex-corrections officer and could get him a better job than being a bouncer. My buddy, who happens to have kind of a cool day job (that doesn’t involve checking anybody’s ass for contraband) said “thanks, I do ok for myself”

Our ex-corrections officer once again told my buddy that he could do much better than a shitty bouncing job.  My buddy once again said thanks but no thanks.

I came outside at the end of their conversation and could see my co-worker was kind of annoyed.Our new friend the Warden was now speaking to one of our regulars. My coworker told me about the conversation and I just shook my head.  As we spoke our regular came by and said “Hey that dude just tried to sell me drugs”

"Ok, thanks" I said, and our regular went back in.

Eventually the Warden came back and started to walk inside. “Hey buddy, I think you’ve had enough to drink, how ‘bout we call it a night” I said.

“I haven’t done anything wrong” he replied.

“Nope, you haven’t, but you have had a lot to drink and I’m going to cut you off now because you’re showing signs of being too intoxicated.” I was a polite as can be, and it was also true. He was quite drunk. Not so drunk that I might have normally stopped him, but drunk enough I could justify it. Plus, he was kind of an asshole.

“Oh, ok,” he said, “Well, I’ll just go tell my wife”. He reached for the door handle and pulled trying to get past me. I just leaned against the door with my arm.

“You’re not coming back in. I’ll go grab your wife, what’s she look like?”

He couldn’t describe her, and he didn’t know what she looked like, or what she was wearing but was sure he could find her if I just let him in. Oh, and by the way, he hadn’t done anything wrong. I told him to point her out through the window.  He stuck a finger in the air and moved it as though he was desperately trying find Waldo, counting off each red and white thing as he went. Finally he pointed out some dude in a white hat who knew his wife. “No sweat, I’ll let him know you’re leaving”. I said.

I went inside and approached the guy in the hat. No problem, except he didn’t speak any English. Great. So in my best broken French I said what probably sounded like:

“You friend, too drink, had to rest outdoors, he had a wish for me to say wife”  

He looked confused, I just shrugged, but he got the gist and gathered all the wives and girlfriends and headed out.

The Warden by now had wandered to the side of the building about 20 yards away. When his buddies came out he suddenly came to life. “Hey, by the way” he spat “you guys are fucking cunts!” (cunt is the new word people use to let us know how brave and shocking they are) “Who wants to step up!?”

“Ok,thanks  have a good night” my co worker said with a little wave. I just chuckled.

“Yeah, that’s the only answer you have!” the Warden retorted. “Why don’t you grow you beards out a little more and grow your balls out.”

My co worker and I just looked at each other. I couple other customers who were hanging out smoking started to laugh to themselves.

Again, from 20 yards off our new friend offered to fight us, then proceeded to kick rocks. Then he told us he was an ex-cop (he must have gotten a promotion when his friends came out) and told us we were stupid fucks who didn’t know how to do our jobs.

I thanked him for his feedback which only further enraged him, and told him to go home. Fortunately his wife was there to hold him back from the severe beating he had in store for us. If he could only get by her 110lb frame he would have brought a world of hurt to the 520lbs of sober bouncer standing at the door. But she kept us safe. Thank heavens.

Eventually his party got him into their vehicle where he promptly fell asleep. One of them drove him home while the rest of his crew went back to party. Later the French guy asked me what happened and I told him. He looked skeptical and asked, “you were polite, like that? Like you’re talking to me?” I said of course, no need to be rude (Which probably sounded like “I can be sure, this is not a need for bad smells”) He just laughed and in English said “He’s just a fucking asshole anyway! Have a good night!” and ran back in to enjoy the rest of his evening. The rest of the night went off without a hitch. See, I’m a great bouncer in every language!

Two to Tango

There are two women come into the bar on a regular basis. One of them has a boyfriend who comes in with them from time to time, but he quite often just drops them off at the door at 10 and picks them up at 2. They usually get drunk and dance. By the end of the night they are usually grinding on each other and often making out. It’s all pretty harmless.

The other night they wandered in around 11. One was wearing a long flowey blouse type thing that was just long enough that I couldn’t see her shorts. I jokingly told her she had to wear pants to come in. With that she pulled up shirt to show me her shorts, and everything else up to her shoulders. I just smiled and let her through. Could be a worse start to the night.

About an hour later I was watching all the drunk hillbillies surrounding our two lovely ladies. I noticed one guy dancing behind my flashing friend. She was grinding up against him and he had his arms wrapped around her. Then I realized I couldn’t see one of his hands. That’s because it was nestled firmly between her legs. I started to walk over shaking my head. He saw me and removed the offending digits,  looked a little embarrassed and stumbled away to the bar. She just moved on to the next testosterone vulture waiting nearby, pulling her hot pants out of her crotch.

Later I was at the door and the same drunk hillbilly came out for a smoke. He started rambling away to me about his job and how tough he was, and how much money he makes.  He eventually decided that for some reason I was the shit, and he asked me my name. I gave him my standard bouncer alias. He stuck his hand out and announced himself. I looked at his hand, then at him, then back at his hand and said “Im not touching that, I know where it’s been”

He looked a little hurt at first, then fired up a few neglected brain cells and realized what I was talking about. “Oh…yeah….that’s fair” he said.  He rambled on for about 5 minutes more before going inside again.

About an hour later the bar cut the dynamic duo off, and they left shortly after that; but not before one of them could give me a sweaty damp high five. That’s when I decided I need to start carrying hand sanitizer.  

The fast and the furious 4

So the other night these 4 idiots came into the bar. 3 of them were full on meat head ‘roid ragers, the other, just a garden variety asshole.  They spent the night bragging about their net worth, picking people up off the ground and showing off their acute oppositional defiance disorder. While these guys were basking in the glory of their own existence just about everyone else in the bar were either laughing at them or waiting with baited breath for them to pay their tabs and leave. 

At one point, their leader, smack dab in the middle of his midlife crisis, grabbed some woman as she walked by. She looked at him and said. “What makes you think you can touch me?”
He sneered at her and said “I drive a Lamborghini baby”
She sneered back and said “I drive a Kia Soul, go fuck yourself”

She made my night.

The Little Rascals

I can’t tell you how many times some guy has threatened to kick my ass while back pedalling away from me. Or while getting into a cab. Or from the comfort of their facebook wall. Usually when faced with the actual prospect of kicking someone’s ass (and possibly eating a few fists in the process) they wilt. It’s not our job to actually kick asses. We manage the door, head off trouble, and remove people who can’t seem to act like civilised adults. Sometimes we have to subdue assholes who can’t seem to let a night go without getting all punchy.

We had one bouncer working for us a while back who never, not once that I can remember, put his hands on anyone. Let’s call him Flexo. He was a body builder, not a tall guy but with mirror muscle. Nice guy, but completely useless as a bouncer. On two occasions that I recall, fights had broken out within 10 feet of him that he didn’t even notice. Too busy chatting with the nearest blonde. Or texting. Once I was running to stop a fight I saw from the back of the room and had to shove him on my way by for him to realize something was happening. Then he hovered over us while the rest of the team wrestled everyone down. He just didn’t want to get his hands dirty. Afraid to tear a bicep, maybe. Who knows. We’ll come back to Flexo.

The night wore on, and we threw out a girl for being too drunk and falling into a waitress and dumping her entire tray on the floor. She stood outside in the cold for about 2 hours crying. One of the guys noticed she was starting to look like Alice Cooper.  I tried to get her into a cab but she just wanted to stay outside getting frostbite. She changed from her heels into a pair of flip flops then back into her heels about 4 times, usually falling halfway through the exchange. She came to me and apologized for calling me an asshole (she hadn’t called me an asshole, or at least not that I heard) and tried to come back in a few times. Eventually she left.

At around 15 mins to closing a little hoodie gangster wanna-be, who had been in and out all night, came in with two girls. One of them I’d carded but the other was new. So I asked for ID and she didn’t have it. Little Hoodie Dude (who’s 3 apples tall and 120lbs if he’s an ounce) steps in front of me, pats his chest and says “She’s with me”

I looked at him a little confused at how that could matter and said “Sorry man, she needs her ID or she can’t come in.”

She looked at me and said yeah, she gets it, she’s just the designated driver, it’s ok she can wait outside, blah blah blah.

Little Hoodie Dude interrupts again and says “Yo, she’s with me” patting himself in the chest again.
So I leaned over and said “Dude, she could be with Jesus Christ himself, unless she’s got ID she can’t come in.”

He looks at me and says “Yo, I’m just trying to help you out”

By now he’d gotten my curiosity, and was beginning to irritate me at the same time. “Help me out with what?”

“Yo, it’s a negotiation you know” he informed me.
“Hmmm, no. It’s not. No one comes in without ID.” I repeated.
“Yeah yeah, its 50/50 you know, I’m just trying to help you out.” He said.
Yeah ok buddy. I can’t remember what happened next but he went away. I let the DD hang out just inside the door because it was freezing out and she definitely looked older than 17. Eventually she and her friend left without Little Hoodie, who was off somewhere being a space cadet.

At about 2:20 almost everyone was outside. I was letting stragglers out and keeping the departed from returning. Two of the door guys had gone out for a smoke. Suddenly a shoving match started and our two guys had to give up their smokes to break it up. I ran out and the guys from inside were right behind me. Here’s the weird little hoodie dude mixing it up with Flexo, of all people. One guy gets Flexo pushed back and another pulls weird Little Hoodie Guy back from what would have been a bad ending to his night. Then, Hoodie starts puffing his chest out and glaring at our door guy like he’s going to kick his ass or something.  Our guy let him know that, although he had the option to try, it would end badly for him.

Meanwhile, Flexo is screaming that he’s going to kick Hoodie’s ass, all the while allowing himself to be held back by our smallest team member. I couldn’t believe it. Here’s a guy who never even asked someone to leave the whole time he worked with us, and now he’s decided his debut fight is going to be a title match with a guy 50 lbs lighter and 6 inches shorter. And the whole thing started because Hoodie tripped and fell into Flexo (or one of his friends).

Nice to know that I’m now working with a group of guys that have my back in a scuffle. No matter how small the guy is.

Pay it Forward

I'm happy to say not much exciting happened this weekend at the bar. That doesn't make for interesting stories though, but I'll see what I can remember.

Snow day
Just as I was getting ready to start my shift I noticed the manager and 2 of the guys talking with a waitress by the ladies room. In our bar "Ladies" is mostly an honourary title. It seems someone told a waitress there were two women who had come out of the same stall. Our manager went in after and there was a suspicious white powder all over the tank lid. I asked if it smelled like cocaine. I didn't get an answer on that. One of the guys went over and told the two girls who had come out (we didn't catch them in the act but we knew who they were) that drugs weren't tolerated at our bar. The two guys they were with were typical middle aged douchebags wearing just enough"just for men" to give away that they were only dressed like 20 year olds and may do steriod but don't really work out much. They made up some bullshit excuses as to why they might be in a stall together.

Flex Appeal
There was this young kid who kept coming in and out of the bar. He was kind of a little guy but he looked like he's probably seen the inside of a gym. I know because every time we asked to see his stamp, or even if didn't ask, he cocked his arm and flexed as he showed us the stamp on his hand. He was also kind enough to switch up his poses for us to keep things interesting. We, of course were throughly impressed by his display of awesomeness and began our own pose down routine.

One More Round
At the end of the night with the doors locked theres always a whole bunch of drinks left on the tables by the door. I didn't see it, but apparently one of the brazilian kids that hangs out (we have a bunch of brazilian kids, don't they know how cold it is here??) grabbed a bunch of left over drinks and started handing them out to a group of girls, then went back for seconds. My buddies were howling watching this kid just brazenly hand out other peoples half drunk drinks. I walked over and told the kid to never, ever do that again, ever. His english got extra bad and he seemed to have a hard time understanding until I told him he'd never come back again. Then he seemed to understand and was sorry.

Runner Runner
I saw a server and the manager running around at the end of the night looking for someone. Apparently the girls from the start of the night and their douches skipped out on a 270 tab and had left a fake credit card. I told you it was an honorary title.

That's pretty much it for this weekend. I can't wait to see what fun we get into next weekend!

Les Miserables

So last night I got called over to the washroom, one of the bouncers is dealing with something. I figure probably two morons doing coke in a stall together. Or blowing each other. I went in and Hoss was standing there. Apparently two guys, somehow, depending on who's story is more credible, managed to break the divider between the urinals. "Fine, you're both leaving"

They argued as I was guiding them out,  but they were going so Hoss went back to his spot. Suddenly the first guy grabbed a beer from somewhere and the second guy bolted for the dance floor. Dave grabbed him and the two of us started to walk him out forcibly. On the way he grabbed a table, and pulled it over, knocking everything to the ground. Well, that was that, we bull rushed him out the door.

Outside, moron 1 still had a beer in his hand. I don't remember this but apparently Dave had his hand on the beer, but I, in a fit of pure genius, grabbed his hand off and pulled the guy away. The guy got all squirelly and started thrashing about. I went to grab him by the head but i missed and caught the string from his hoodie. So I just pulled. The front of his hoodie puckered shut in front of his face. It was pretty funny.

So now he's thrashing about some more so I pushed him over and got on top of him till he calmed down. I so very much wanted to choke him out, but good sense got the better of me.  Eventually he calmed and I pushed him towards a cab.

Then suddenly they started screaming. "Quebec, mother fucker! What the fuck!? Quebec! Yeah, you're so tough, 5 against 2! Quebec!"  I turned around and a couple other bouncers and a few patrons were behind me. Meanwhile the two idiots were screaming and making gang signs. Suddenly, one guy flips me off and screams "Child molester!!!!!!!!" at me. I burst out laughing. So he mooned us, buttoned up and kicked a dent into the back of a cab. Jaques and Pierre then stormed up the street yelling and screaming in their stupid sounding Quebec accents. We laughed and went back to work. I feel like poutine today.

Dumb and dumberer

I love female police officers. They have a no bullshit attitude towards their jobs. They don't take shit off of anyone and they're efficient once they make a decision. And I don't know, I think there's something about a woman in uniform.... All kidding aside, full on respect for our female police officers.

They all look like this right?

So we talked to these two guys about not arm wrestling in the bar. One of them, lets call him Dick, got pretty agitated and excited. He recognized one of our bouncers from high school and said he'd behave but to keep that guy (our bouncer) away from him. On his way out for a smoke he stopped by the bouncer (who went to work the door to steer clear of the guy for a bit) and said something along the lines of "Oh by the way, I fucked your girlfriend", then  continued to shout things at him while smoking.

Since the guy was a dick, I walked over, handed the him the stuff he'd left inside and told him not to come back. That didn't go over well. He demanded to know why. I told Dick, "You're insulting our staff, you're too hyper, too agressive and I don't want you in here" He insisted on seeing the manager, claimed we had his ID (we didn't) and started telling me about his rights. He told me that we needed to call the cops because we were violating his rights. You know, his right to come into our establishment, act like a fucking asshole for a few hours, treat the staff like shit, and come and go as he pleases. Those rights.

Just as he was saying that a cop drove by. I had spoken to this RCMP officer earlier about something else and she was really great to deal with. So I flagged her down. I told her the guy was asked to leave, wouldn't leave the premises and wanted to speak to her about his rights. As we were talking he sauntered up and started to complain. She ordered him to back off till we were done. He slinked away. When I finished I walked back to the door and he went over to plead his case. I could hear her telling him he had to leave.

I don't know what else was said but she drove away. He stood there stupidly till she left and came back to the door, starting to say something about coming back in. Suddenly, she appeared out of no where and threw cuffs on him. "I told you to leave, now you're going to jail" Dick thought this was relatively unfair and let us know his feelings.

At this point his big tall lanky stupid friend tried to pull the guys arm from the cop's grasp. Had one of our bouncers not grabbed him and pulled him back I'm pretty sure he would have gotten tasered. I really wish had gotten tasered. Seriously, morons getting tasered would be the highlight of my night.

Big tall and lanky went on and on about how his friend shouldn't be arrested because he was going to be a father in January. I don't know if he thought the guy was going away for 8 months for public drunkenness, or if maybe having impregnated some poor girl with your idiot genes was some sort of legal defence against being arrested at all, but he was very adamant that this pregnancy was of the utmost importance. I think, to be fair to the child, and society in general,Dick should give up the child for adoption immediately. Dick isn't smart enough or mature enough be around other human beings in a public place, let alone have a child.

As Dick was getting arrested, Lanky walked over to the car, once again almost getting tasered, and asked the cop to take his number down so Dick could call him when he got freed. She said no, that it wasn't her job. So Lanky says the funniest/pathetic thing I've heard a drunk say in a while, "Yeah, I guess it's not your job to care." Aww, poor guys.

So Dick went off to the tank, and Lanky stood outside for two hours smoking and insulting us until the rest of his friends (friends, noun: guys who stay in the bar and drink after you've been kicked out for being too stupid to be in a bar) came out and left.

I think I'm gonna buy a taser.

Happy Cinqo De Mayo!

Holy shit. What a weird night. It started off slow. I told the boys I'd work inside tonight because it was so dead. I was standing in the back talking to James when suddenly I saw a guy tackle another guy. I  bolted over to the scene of the crime. When I tried to stop and break it things up my body ended up in the right place but my feet just kept going. Ass over tea kettle I went.

I got up and some guy came flying out of no where and punched one of the guys in back of the head. James grabbed him,  I pulled the second guy off and I don't even know where the guy on the bottom ended up.  The rest of the team was there in seconds.

I put my guy, wearing a green t shirt,  into guillotine choke and he just stopped moving, I loosened up a bit and he said he was done. Ok. I let him up slowly and he left like a genleman. A gentleman covered in spilled beer and highballs. Meanwhile other bouncers were leading other guys out. I walked my guy out and went back to see what was going on. The guy on the bottom in black said he was leaving but asked if he could get his stuff. I said fine. He got his stuff and left.

I went into the office to watch the video. Turns out the guy in black just flat out sucker punched the guy in green.  Meanwhile, the guy in black is out front is threatening the other bouncers. I went up front and he started to tell me that legally I could walk him back in to get his friends. I said yeah, and legally I can tell him he can't come in and do nothing. He informed me it was my loss. I'll try not to lose sleep. He stood around smoking and looking tough, then eventually left.

Later I saw one of our regulars dragging a guy in a lame paisley shirt out in a full nelson, being followed by another bouncer with another guy in red being dragged out.  I let them by. Just as the guy in paisley was released outside he took a swing at one of our guys a who was walking away. I got between them and shoved him. He went flying and smashed into our sandwich board, breaking it.  His bigger buddy in red came at me and I think might have punched me in the face, I don't really remember, but I've got a small cut inside my mouth. Someone grabbed him and pulled him off. I ended up tangled with Paisley, feeding him shots to the side of his head while another guy was trying to get us all down. Eventually we ended up in a pile with Paisley tearing my brand new Guinness hoodie as James held him down. He wouldn't let it go so I stepped on his face and pulled. He still wouldn't let it go so I let him have it. It's no good now anyway. He got up with a pretty nasty black eye compliments of one of our bouncers.

These two decided to stick around and be dicks for a while. The cops were near by and told them to leave. They went around the corner continued being dicks. So the cops told them again. After their second warning, they stuck around until they got arrested. Their buddy's, being geniuses, decided they would fight the cops so the could all go to jail together. Overhearing their master plan the cops arrested them before they got the chance. Cool.

While all this is happening, and I'm a little amped, waiting around to see what was going to happen next, one of our waitresses, came out to chat. It was her night off and she was on a bit of a bender. She was telling me a story about all the shots she had drank this evening, completely oblivious to the fact that there were fights going on. She ended up throwing up and crying in the staff bathroom at the end of the night. Good times.

Later James brought a guy out in a brutal choke hold. Turns out he started a fight and then pushed the bouncer trying to break it up. He started to argue and I advised him his best course of action was to go home. He spun around and ended up face to face with a good natured RCMP officer who looked at him and said "I told you we'd meet again" I didn't even ask.

Later than that I asked a guy to take his smoke away from the door. He turned around and blew smoke in my face. Nice. After envisioning myself breaking his jaw, I asked him if he was stupid. Turns out he is. He tried to come back in later and I told him to go fuck himself. He spent a good half hour trying to talk his way back in. 

During all of this 3 more guys got thrown out for various levels of drunken bull shit. 2 more of them got arrested because the just couldn't seem to leave the front of the bar.

At the end of the night I saw a guy knock over a chair and just walk away. I said "Hey, go pick up that chair you just knocked over" "Yeah right he said." I said "Go pick it up or don't come back"
He told me to go fuck myself, so I walked him to the door and shoved him out telling him never to return. Yes, I just banned a guy for knocking over a chair. I'm actually kind of proud. Just because its a bar doesn't mean you should get away with dickish behaviour. I can't wait to tell him he can't come back in a few weeks when he thinks I've forgotten.

I had to laugh later, one of the new guys used to work at one of the rowdiest bars in the city. I said, "This is probably just a Tuesday night to you huh?" He said "Yeah, but I didn't want to say anything, you guys are all having fun"

How was your Saturday night?

White Noise

So I got a review on urban spoon the other day. I'm terrible.

http://www.urbanspoon.com/r/72/1672797/restaurant/Alberta/Standard-Tap-Public-House-Airdrie

"Good music and fun atmosphere...if you get in. the bouncers are terrible. If they know you you walk in and if they don't you stand outside watching people who just showed up get in first.its a big joke, terrible service. Who the hell forms a second entry line when you have customers that have already been waiting for 30 min." -Kevin

Well he sure showed me! Seems Kevin is angry that we have a VIP line. Who forms a second entry line? Night clubs, Kevin, night clubs. And guess what Kevin; thats life. Yup, the manager's buddies get in ahead of you sometimes. People who made reservations get in ahead of you sometimes. People who work in the industry get in ahead of you sometimes.

Here's a tip Kevin, you don't want to wait in line? Don't show up at the busiest club in town at midnight genius. And yeah Kevin, if one of my buddies comes into town, I'm not going to make him wait behind you. You're a whiney little bitch. You didn't get your way so you took the time made an account on urban spoon just to bitch about the normal practices of every night club on the planet? Suck it up princess. You are going to have a long disappointing road ahead of you my friend. Long and disappointing.

On Saturday one of the bartenders overheard a girl talking on the phone the other night outside telling someone that I was an asshole. From the description it was the girl who didn't look like her photo ID who couldn't remember her address who thought she was the only Taurus who was born in August. I made her cry. Not because I was rude, I was actually quite nice to her, but because I wouldn't let her in. So she cried. If you cry because you don't get your way, you probably shouldn't be going into bars. If you cry because you lost the fight you started, you probably shouldn't be going into bars. If you cry because "she broke up with me" you should probably stay at home writing bad poetry and paint your nails black.

The age of innocence

Friday was just one of them nights.  Nick and I were rocking the door most of the night. I was taking IDs and checking bags, he stamping people and making sure people coming in belonged there. All sorts of fun things happened at the door.

The Bitchy Thief and Her Friends

At some point a girl walked up. I recognized her, sort of pretty in an off beat sort of way. The type of girl you'd probably spend time with, but you'd still be looking at other girls. She had come in with a hillbilly douchebag a few months ago and stole a purse. I took her ID looked at it, handed it back and said, "yeah you can't come in here"

"Why not?" one of her friends asked. I just looked at our friendly neigborhood purse thief.

"Because you came in here with some guy and stole a purse a few months ago."

She didn't even protest. "Oh, Ryan" she said. I guess douche bag hillbilly is Ryan. I like my name for him better. Let's go with that. "Well he stole it"

"No, the video shows you grab the purse from a pile of coats, stuff it in the guys jacket, and walk out with him. Don't come back."

She said something or other about how it was a long story and walked away. Her friends came in with out her.

Later she tried to sneak in, we said no. Then she tried to reson her way in. We said no. So she hung out outside the bar for 3 hours.

Later, her friend came up to me and said "those 2 girls you just let in are underage. My mother can get 2 cops her in 10 minutes and shut you down."

"Make the call" I said. 

"Fine!" She walked away, dailing, calling my bluff.

"Hey, should I show them the video of your friends stealing a purse while there here?" I called after her. We laughed at her. She frowned.

The Little Asshole

Later one little dude walked up and we blocked the door.

"You can't come in here" I said.

"Why?"

"Because we have to throw you out every time you come in. So you're not welcome here anymore" I said.

"For how long?" he asked

"Forever"

"I didn't do anything" he argued.

"No, not tonight" I said, "and I'm not giving you the opportunity. Have a good night."

"That's fine," he said walking away, "You're a prick anyway."

"I get that a lot" I panned.

My little buddy walked away, then came back about 10 mins later and hung out outside for about an hour. He ended up hanging out with the purse thief.

The underaged girl

A girl walked up to the door with a stamp. But it was kinda smudged, so I asked for her ID again. She didn't like that but presented it begrudgingly. It didn't look like her. I asked her for her address, which she'd rehearsed perfectly.  I noticed her birthday was near mine so I asked her for her sign. She thought about it then said "Taurus" 

"No, you're not" I said.

"Yes I AM" she screamed.

"Sweetheart, if this is your birthday you'd be a Leo." 

"I'm a TAURUS!!" she screamed again.

"I'm sure you are, but the person in the ID you gave me is a Leo. Have a good night"

While all this was happening the two guys at the head of the line were cracking up at everything I said

Well, that was unnacceptable. She started to cry. Her friends ran to get the manager, 2 minutes later there was a full quorum in front of me. The manager took my side of course. My little Taurus informed me she'd be speaking with the owner. Cool. Can't wait to hear about it.

Blow

Last week James caught 2 guys in a stall together. He pushed the door open, they tried to slam it shut. When they came out they were curious why James would think they should be kicked out. 

"You're doing rails in the shitter" he said (I'm paraphrasing, I don't remember what he said to be honest)

"No we're not" one of the idiots said.

"You might wanna wipe the white shit off your face while you're telling me that" James replied.

They left.

Harassment

You should have seen this girl. She was tall, rail thin, had one of those stupid clip in hair extensions on the back of her head. She had the make up gun set to whore. She staggered around, a little drunk, alot high. She let a strange guy do some pretty nasty things to her on the dance floor. We would have stopped them but we were laughing too hard. 

She staggered out for a smoke halfway through the night. She stopped in front of Nick, turned, and started chatting him up. She grabbed the string from his hoodie and played with the ends while whispering sweet nothings in his ear. He told her he was married. That just encouraged her.

Later, no her way out, followed by the gentleman who had recently had his fingers in places he probably shouldn't in a public place, she stopped at Nick again. This time after a bit of pillow talk she tried to kiss him. He turned his head and again informed her he was married. We were laughing while it happened, then suddenly she reached down and grabbed him by the junk. He looked at us for some relief but I was crying I was laughing so hard. 

Later he looked at us all disappointed "Friends don't let friends get raped dude"

That just made us laugh harder at him.