Detroit Rock City

There’s a woman who comes into the bar we call “Detroit”. One night, while throwing her out for causing a disturbance, she told us that if we were in Detroit she’d have us killed already. I guess she’s a big deal in Detroit.

A few weeks ago she came in and apologized for her bad behavior. We let her in on the condition that she behave. She spent the next few hours getting blasted, annoying the customers and hitting on the doormen. Being a sloppy drunk isn't all that attractive, even in our rough little town. But Detroit doesn't take no for an answer and eventually we had to remove her before she started getting all physical on the guys who just weren't interested.

  

We didn’t see her for a while after that, until Friday night she wandered across our parking lot, big smile on her face. She started apologizing before she was really within ear shot. We made fun of her for a bit, but then told her, seriously, that if she caused any trouble, that was it, she wasn’t welcome back any more. She promised to be good.

“We’re gonna have to throw her out aren't we?” I joked.

“Oh hell yeah.”

She wandered in and out all night, smoking, rubbing her giant boobs against us and clumsily flirting with us or anything else with a Y chromosome.  When she didn’t get any takers she’d go back in only to return ten minutes later and try again. After about a half hour she’d gotten enough wine into her that she felt comfortable enough to let us know she wasn’t wearing any underwear. She also decided that one of us was going to drive her home ‘if’ she got too drunk to drive. (Not ‘it’!)

She finally sat beside some guy and struck up a conversation. They shared a couple drinks and finally, after a solid half hour of getting to know one another,  left together. Sweet, he’s taking one for the team and we don’t have to drag her drunk ass out again. Happy ending for everyone! Or so I thought.

An hour later the sun was starting to go down when I looked up and saw Detroit staggering down the driveway.  “That was quick!” I teased cheerfully.

“I don’t wanna talk about it” she replied rolling her heavily painted eyes. She gave one of the boys a hug and slithered back in.

With a glass of white in her hand she sat uninvited with a group of young hicks. After a spell she got up with a few of them and started dancing. As I passed the dancefloor later she yelled at me “James!” (That’s not my name, that’s my coworkers fake bar name, she thought I was him) 

“I’m only dancing with this kid ‘cause he’s handicapped and I need to teach him how” she slurred at me. He wasn’t handicapped.

“As long as that’s all you teach him” I said flatly. 

I looked at this poor kid who was being dragged around the dance floor by this aggressive drunk. It pissed me off that she was acting like he was somehow an embarrassment to her.  

I went up to the guys and said “We’re gonna need to throw her out before something happens” 

As we were talking about that (and not doing it like we should have),  I saw some commotion on the dance floor out of the corner of my eye.  All of a sudden Detroit and a tall farm girl went ass over teakettle on the dance floor. We rushed over and started breaking it up. Heels and claws and hair were whirling in every direction. James grabbed Detroit while I held back the farm girl with the help of her boyfriend. They told me exactly what I expected to hear, that she wouldn’t leave one of their guys alone, and when his girlfriend finally told her to get lost she started pushing. I got them to chill and went back out.

Detroit was pacing and smoking hard. “I’m going to kill that bitch. I better not see her again, I’ll kill her, Detroit style!” She really actually said “Detroit style”

We told her she had to leave. She just kept pacing.

That’s when a cop car rolled up. I recognized the guy behind the wheel and walked over to his car. I told him we had an incident and we couldn’t get the instigator to leave. Maybe the threat of a night in the drunk tank would do it?

He said sure, and as he was throwing it in Park the farm girl and her friend came out of the bar. Detroit saw her chance at redemption and rushed at the farm girl,  who just simply threw the cleanest right hook I’d ever seen thrown in a bar fight. Square in the teeth.  I wish Joe Rogan had been there to scream “Right on the button!!” By the time I ran over the door guys had gather them off the ground. One of our servers grabbed Detroit by the throat and pinned her against the wall. Detroit easily had 50, 60 lbs on this girl but our girl just manhandled her. “I got this”

The cop walked straight over to Detroit and got her ID. She didn’t think that was fair since she was the victim. Blood ran down over her front teeth.  She wanted to press charges. The cop told her that from what he saw, she would be the only one getting charged if she didn’t leave. So she blew smoke in his face. As he was reaching for his cuffs one of our servers convinced her she should probably get a cab before it was too late. With a little bit of prodding the got her in a van and on her way.

The cop just laughed about the whole thing and joked around with us for a couple minutes. We thanked him and he left. 

I found the farm girl and told her that she couldn’t punch anyone any more, but damn, that was a nice right! She laughed and thanked me.  She and her crew spent the rest of the night having fun. I'm sure Detroit spent the rest of her night wondering if she was going to get a visit from the tooth fairy.

I wonder what a couple of front teeth are worth these days. 

The Lady Killers

Its my party, I'll cry if I want to...
I was late getting to work Saturday because I scored tickets to see the Flames wipe out the 'Nucks. Best night at the Dome I can remember since '04. I arrived to find the bar a little busy, lots of new faces. Right away I noticed one of our regulars, standing on a stool, shouting at someone across the bar. Or shouting to no one, just sort of letting herself be heard. Turns out my spikey haired, bleach blonde bar-star was having a birthday. She came by and hugged me and told me it was her 44th. Super.

A bit later one of the boys told me that she'd flashed the bar. Fortunately modesty had prevented her from actually hefting her lady bits from her bra for the world to see. Did I say modesty?  Thanks to a 7 hour liquid diet it was more like the fine motor skills of a fumbling 15 year old boy in the back seat of a car on prom night preventing her jubblies from gracing our presence. But I digress.

Later in the evening she staggered by my station on the dance floor, looked me up and down and sneered, "You? As a bouncer? Pfft." She rolled her eyes dramatically and stumbled to the door. Outside she attempted to body check someone she knew, but missed, lost her balance and smashed her face into the rough concrete of our building, sliding face first down to the sidewalk. Someone helped her up, she wiped away a tear and trucked back into the bar for another savage assault on her liver.

Shortly after that she decided it was time to go home and headed to her car. Our manager and a couple of the boys sweet talked her into a cab that whisked her away into the night.

Georgia Peach
A foursome approached the door. The first girl was wearing a short peach dress. She walked up and confidently showed me her passport. Well...someone's passport, but certainly not her's.  I told her she couldn't come in. As they walked away I heard her say we were "stupid fucking bouncers" and they'd go to another bar. Fine by me. I texted the other bar to let them know an under-aged girl in a peach dress was coming by with someone else's passport. They thanked me for the heads up and assured me she wouldn't be drinking there either. If she had just been nicer to me she might have gotten in and had a fun night.

Fightin' Irish
Some dude was jumping up and down and fell over. I asked if he was ok and he went on a rant that he was jumping up and down because some guy was talking to him. "I see" I said. "Ok, I'll tell the guy to stop talking to you if you promise to stop jumping up and down" He agreed to that.

A short time later, there was a blond girl in a leather skirt and red top on the dance floor. She was dancing and fell down. Then she fell down again. I looked at her friends and said, "Is there someone who can take her home?" They pointed to the guy who fell down from jumping up and down; her husband. Great. So I grabbed him and said "Dude, you need to take her home, she's way too drunk." 

"It's ok she's Irish," he replied. 

"No, not ok she's gotta go." I countered. 

Husband-guy accepted that, on the condition that I tell her that her leaving is my idea. "Sure," I said. We went over and he told her it's time to go, then looks at me. "Yeah, I'm sorry miss, you're gonna have to call it a night," I said, "You're just really drunk and I don't want you to hurt yourself."

She wasn't having it. She looked at her husband and tore a strip off him for always ruining her fun. Again I said, it wasn't him, it was my decision that she leave. As I'm explaining this, the husband just walks away and leaves me to throw out his wife while he looked for another beer. Thanks, dick.

So I helped her to her table, helped her find her boots, and her purse, and her jacket. She started to cry. I told her it was ok. Then she told me she'd kill me with one of her boots. I said ok, she could do that if she wanted. After 10 minutes I got her safely outside and asked if I could get her a cab. She looked at me and screamed "I'm FUCKING IRISH!!"

So I've heard. The husband was nowhere to be found so I went back in and let the boys handle the logistics of getting her home. I saw her and her husband arguing in the parking lot about 10 minutes later. A toast to the happy couple!

Project Run Way
A middle aged woman sat with her friends and got wasted. She's the type who never really drinks anymore, so she has no idea how quickly she'll get drunk after 3 cosmos. She shuffled off to dance, and after a few songs shuffled back to her spot. Her friends decided it was time to leave, but Cosmo couldn't find her jacket. "I'm not leaving without my fucking jacket!" she announced. Before long half the bar is looking for her jacket. It was brand new, she wasn't fucking leaving without it. It was quickly found on a chair by the dance floor where she left it. She snatched it from her friend, slammed down her drink and proceeded to flip off the entire bar, for being treated so poorly I can only assume,  before shuffling out after her friends. 

Three's company

Ok, I wasn't here for this one, but my buddy at the door told me about it so I'll share. There's this knuckle head who comes in. He's a little wiry guy, who's entire life is a "Thug- Life" parody. Unless his hip hop career takes off. Then I'll be eating my words. But until the market for 'angry little white dude's from farming communites who rap about being hard and living large' takes off I think I'm safe. 

He wandered in the other night with 2 buddies and didn't have his ID. It'd been taken away for driving drunk. Good life choices, genius. We know who he is, so he was let in, and warned to behave. A couple of hours later a member of his posse went out to their truck with a girl he'd just met. Before long, the truck starts 'a rockin', leaving little suspicion as to what's happening. 

Shortly after that, our little drunk driver decided he needs to check on his buddy. He wandered over and hopped in the truck. After a minute or two the truck stared rockin' AGAIN. Eventually the rocking stopped and after short intermission, they all hopped out, went back to the bar and resumed drinking. And they say romance is dead! The third guy got thrown out for doing blow in the bathroom. 

So really, an all around good night for everyone. 

To Be Over-Served and Protect

So some big guy got into a fight with one of the regulars, a smaller, albeit feisty guy, who I get along with. A good Maritimes boy. Well, not a fight exactly but there was some shoving and it would have been a fight. But our bouncers came flying out of everywhere, I grabbed the smaller guy and walked him out with no troubles, he left like a champ on his own steam. By the time I got back the big guy was flailing around and ended up in a heap on the floor. 

From his back, surrounded by our door staff, he tried a different tact, acting all innocent and confused, like, why are we manhandling him? We finally got him out the door and once outside he lost his shit, started screaming that he’s gonna sue the place, that the regular he was scuffling with was an asshole who got in his face because he was yelling at some chick who told him off. He stood outside like a jackass for 10 solid minutes.

Come to find out, the big creepy douche is a cop from a nearby city. And so are his two friends. One of them pulled his badge out after losing a shoving match with one of our guys.  Another came over to hear what the girls involved in the scuffle had to say to me about what happened. Every time she said something he would cut her off.

“He kept touching me…”
“What do you mean ‘touching you’ “ he’d interrupt.
“We told him to leave us alone and he kept harassing me…”
“What do you mean harassing” he’d interrupt aggressively. This went on until she was done.

He walked away to find his buddies, the tall prick still arguing his case that he was in fact the victim in this situation. They finally got Big and Creepy into a cab and left.

At 2:30 we got a call from the cops, they heard about the incident and wanted to hear what happened. We said yeah sure, come on in. Well, it was the two buddies of Big and Creepy. They never actually said they were working, that I recall, but talked about how they work undercover, said they were trying to blend in, asked what happened etc. etc. all leading us all to believe that they were in fact on duty for some reason. We all chatted for about 10 minutes and they left.  I think we’ve got a pretty good rapport with the local cops. They come by to check on things from time to time and we usually all chat a bit and have a laugh at our clientèle. But these three guys were dicks.

The next day I watched the video of the fight. It happened exactly the way the girls explained it to me. Big and Creepy chatting them up, getting shot down, getting aggressive, getting into a fight. Seems his big, bald, creepy ego can’t handle rejection and he reacts by picking fights with little girls; and guys half his size.

My boss spoke with the police department. From what I’ve heard, it turns out these guys weren’t on duty at all. They were just full of shit. So now I really hope Big and Creepy does try and sue the bar. I would LOVE to show his bosses the video of him serving and protecting.  

The Drunkest Leprechan

There’s this guy. He comes in every couple weeks. Middle aged, grey, goatee, built like a potato. Polite, friendly, and can walk in a straight line. 

Then he has a few drinks. 

Suddenly, he can’t speak, can’t walk, and feels an overwhelming desire to touch, high five and hug everyone. Especially young girls.  That’s when we usually throw him out. When he gets creepy. 

On St. Paddy’s day one of the guys walked him out. We had all seen it coming. He just got to that point. I didn’t even ask why they were tossing him, I just looked at him and said “All done huh?”

He said he guessed so, then stuck out his tongue and blew a raspberry.

“Lets get you a cab” I said, and walked over to the taxi stand with him. I opened the first cab door and he started to climb in. He turned and stuck his hand out. I reached out to shake it when he pulled me in for one of those “bro hugs” you see guys do now. You know, half hand shake, half hug-type things. Ok. No problem, except he wouldn’t let go. He wasn’t being a dick, he was just that drunk. Finally I squirmed away when  the cabby looked at me and said “NO! He’s too drunk!”

Are you serious? You’re parked in front of a bar on St. Paddy’s day and you’re not taking people who are too drunk?  Fine, I grabbed my new friend and put him in another cab.  I got another bro hug, but managed to shake that off a little quicker this time and walked away.

About 5 minutes later I saw a cab pull up. The driver got out, slammed his door and marched around to the passenger side. He threw the door open and pulled out my drunk creepy friend. He jumped back in his van and took off. I couldn’t help but laugh.

So Drunk-and-Creepy staggered over and tried to get back into the bar. We said no and directed him to the taxis again. Over the course of the next hour he got into about 5 different cabs, either being thrown out immediately, or being returned within minutes. He spent the rest of the night hanging out in front of the bar hugging anyone and everyone who would acknowledge his existence, blowing raspberries for no apparent reason, and randomly trying to get back into the bar. Finally, around 2 he found a cabby that would take him home and left for the night.

I saw him the next weekend. One of our guys had gone up to him and told him they wanted him to pace himself so he didn't get hurt. He said "Thanks man, it means a lot that you guys care. Cause you don't have to care!" With that he proceeded to get leprechaun drunk again, then weaved his way out into the night. Happys St. Paddy's day, any day of the year!

Flash Dance

We have a lot of Brazilian guys that hang out in our bar. I don’t know why they’re here, or what they’re doing but they’re always in, every  weekend. And there’s about 3 groups of them. They all seem to know each other, but they don’t hang out together. It’s very weird. Lately they’ve been a problem. They’re having trouble with the concept of ‘no’.

We threw one of them out last weekend. He was dancing with a girl and decided to plant a big, wet, surprising, and very much unwanted kiss on her. He then argued with her when she got mad and told him to get lost. This week, I don’t know what he did but, he pissed off some other girl and wouldn't take no for an answer. Our Bulgarian bouncer, and resident human pretzel maker, was particularly irked by the young man’s lack of respect for women and threw him out.

This is the same Brazilian guy who was handing out half empty bottles of beer that he found on abandoned tables a few weeks back. All class, this one. So he hung out outside the door for about an hour, explaining to everyone who would listen that this was NOT his fault. At one point two of our bartenders were outside by the wall having a smoke. Brazil was going on about how, it’s all the girls’ fault, they dance with him all sexy and then they tell him no. It’s not fair. Then he proceeded to double over and twerk up against one of our male bartenders, pinning him up against the wall with his ass. Our guy managed to wriggle away after only a few seconds of awkward dry humping. He tossed his smoke and headed back in. On his way by I cracked, “Was it good for you?” He laughed and shook his head.

Anyway, Brazil is taking a few weeks off from the bar so he can think about his attitude towards women. And bartenders.

Happy Friday everyone! Wonder what we have in store for tonight! 

Love Actually

V-Day

On Valentines day I was standing in the back, keeping an eye on things when a guy walked up to me. Tall, skinny, wearing a beard. He said hi, asked how long I’d been back working, told me he respected me and wouldn't cause any trouble. I said great, having no clue who this guy was but knowing full well that if he said he wasn't causing trouble, he’d be in the middle of it soon enough. As he walked away it dawned on me; oh yeah, I banned that guy for fighting a year or two ago.

Ten minutes later he and his 4 buddies are at the center of a scuffle.  I ran up to help get it under control and we all exploded out of the bar onto the side walk. After ten solid minutes of  shouting, shoving and posturing we got everyone calmed down and on their feet. Dozens of people who weren’t even involved spilled onto the sidewalk to watch.

Finally we got to a point where no one was holding anyone back, no one is threatening any one, and everyone is getting ready to leave. Then, out of nowhere, the drunkest guy there pushed some dude for no reason. The entire place explodes into a 30 man brawl. We’re all pulling people off of one another. A guy took a swing at one of my buddies so I pulled him off and we all ended up in a pile. He laughed and said “Oh, you want some ground and pound?” and proceeded to try and put me in a wrist lock. Prick. One of the guys ended up holding his legs and I wriggled out and got on top of him and held him down.  

That’s when his fiancé stopped by to tell me I had to let him up so she could take him home. No sweetheart, your asshole husband-to-be is going to jail. Then, the blushing groom told me that if I touch his girlfriend he’ll kill me. So I tried out this thing called a “rear naked choke.” I saw someone do it on the UFC one time. He started tapping the pavement madly as the small amount of oxygen that normally travelled to his brain was further impeded. Just a little reminder of where he was and how his situation was going. After a few minutes an RCMP officer came by to cuff him and drag him off. 

I know what you're thinking. "Dude, it was Valentimes day.You should have just let him go home and make sweet sweet love to his fiance." The way I figure it, we were doing  her a favour. What kind of man brings his fiancé to the local tap house for a Valentine’s Day singles party. Seriously. And any "sweet, sweet love" would have just been sweaty drunken flailing ending with him rolled up in a ball at the foot of the bed gently sobbing himself to sleep. While he was in jail she should have just set his stuff out by the curb and changed her number. I really hope they don’t procreate.

By then there were about 8 cops throwing cuffs on people, 7 bouncers holding people down, the DJ, bartenders and customers helping us out. I saw the bearded guy, who told me he respected me, getting thrown into the back of a police car. And his buddy, the guy who pushed someone for no reason? He was sitting on the ground. He was having trouble getting up because someone punched him in the face so hard his legs stopped working.  Couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy.

Eventually it all got cleared up and we all went back inside. At 3:30am one of the cops came back to get our statements. As we were locking up, my bearded friend and his 3 buddies showed up looking for one of our guys. Apparently they felt like they had been mistreated by one of us. The biggest guy in their group, the one with the biggest mouth who never, ever seems to back it up, decided they should just leave.

So that was Feb 14, 2015 in my little town. Lots of love.

It’s not them, it’s you

It’s not them, it’s you

Last night I went to see Gord Downie play at the Wildhorse Saloon, a big ol’ tent that springs up every Stampede.  About 10 minutes in 2 very large men dressed as cowboys decided they didn’t like each other. Strangers and girlfriends jumped in to keep the two parties back as these mental midgets screamed at each other, fingers flying in both directions. Eventually Dumb Cowboy #1 guy got bored and allowed himself to be physically restrained by his 90lb girlfriend and left

The whole time this was happening, the bouncer in front of us was watching the band. Another bouncer was flirting with a cowgirl.  It wasn’t until after the whole thing had resolved itself and Dumb Cowboy #1 had left that Flirty McBouncer came flying from his perch, bulldogging his way through the crowd to take charge of the situation, unaware of what he was even running toward. The people left in his wake began picking themselves up and looking for their hats, wondering why some big dude in a yellow shirt just shoved them out of the way.

Then I heard someone behind me say, “Why do people turn into such assholes during Stampede?” referring to the two chest thumping wastes of skin.  But they’re not the problem; the rest of us are the problem. 

All night long we were surrounded by people that generally don’t binge drink for ten days straight. Normal folks with normal lives who are just out for Stampede to have a good time. People getting into the spirit of the thing, drinking to get annihilated, because, “hey, it’s Stampede!!”  As we watched the band people were constantly pushing through the crowd to get closer to the stage. Fratboys headbanging to the music, the brims of their cowboy hats rhythmically bobbing in and out of peoples faces. Little hipster dudes leaning over people to scream something at their buddies, O&G guys rocking out with a full solo cup held high over the crowd, spraying everyone in a 3 foot radius. Drunk guys flirting with other drunk guys girlfriends. Drunk girlfriends flirting right back.

Yeah, yeah, I know. It’s a concert, that’s what happens. I get that. Hell, I’ve been all of those guys in a single night. Stampede, however, seems to bring it up a notch though, and it’s a petri dish for the asshole culture.

Assholes don’t turn into assholes because they’ve had too many drinks. They’ re just assholes. It’s what they do. The booze just cuts back on the little bit of self restraint they have to not be assholes all the time. The rest of us acting like idiots? That’s the catalyst. It’s the little hipster dude who generally sits around ironically named dive bars drinking PBR, or whatever it is this week, who starts pushing his weight around because a belly full of Budweiser and a pair of  Wranglers gives him license to do so. It’s the soccer dad who’s happily staggering into people because the last time he drink this much was new years eve. 3 years ago. Its not long before the asshole, who might not even be looking for a fight, but can’t seem to avoid them, slides back two spaces on the evolutionary chart and does what he does best. Acts like an asshole.  

There's a few days of Stampede left, and it should be a good time, but there will be a few more fights, more arguments, more shoving. But the next time you think to yourself “Why is that guy such an asshole” take a look around and see who’s foot you might be standing on.