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!

Oh God!

I volunteered to work security at a concert at the East Coast Music Awards a few years ago. We were promised beer after the show but by the time I got there the pony keg they had brought was already tapped out.  Since I was there and I liked one of the bands that was playing I figured I’d stay.

I was paired up with a mountain of a man named Mike. At about 6foot 8 it looked like they used his hands as a model for those #1 fan Fingers people wear at ball games. He was good natured and we got along really well.  Mike was particularly unhappy that the free beer was gone though.

The venue was an abandoned church, with the old pews were still there. The fire marshal said that we had to keep the aisles on the sides clear, but people could dance in the middle if they wanted. It was east coast music after all, people were bound to bounce up and down a bit.

The night went off pretty well, everyone having a good time. We had to ask people from time to time to stay out of the side walkway and most people were pretty good. The drinks were flowing the bands were pumping and as predicted. We had to remind people more and more often.

At some point I asked some kid to settle down, he was jumping up and down and spilling beer all over those around him, and me. It turns out he was one of these, clever Chess Club, Debate Team university types who always figures he can outsmart his way out of being a douchebag.

“Are you being paid or are you a volunteer?” he demanded

“Doesn’t matter, you need to settle down dude, you’re bumping people and spilling all over” I replied

“Are you being paid or are you a volunteer?” he insisted

“Hey man, all you need to know is that if you don’t settle down we’re going to ask you to leave, now go have a good time” I said.

“Yeah?” he mocked “Well all you need to know is that if you’re not an employee of this place you don’t have any rights to tell me what to do” he stepped back and started bouncing up and down, staring at me, very pleased with himself. He may have had a touch of affluenza.

I walked over and put my hand on his shoulder, “Dude, you need to settle down”
He threw his arm up, batting at my hand and screamed “Don’t fucking touch me man!”  The beer he was holding flew everywhere half of it spraying a crowd to my right, the other half on me. Then he shoved me. Suddenly, Big mike comes out of nowhere, puts his arm around Chess Club’s neck and lifts him a full foot off the ground, and starts dragging him to the door. I ran ahead of him clearing a path. Chess Club was kicking me in the back half the time so I turned and grabbed his feet.

The three of us exploded out the front door of the church, smokers scattering to get out of the way. Mike tripped going down the steps and the three of us fell down on the sidewalk.  There were two city cops nearby. They sauntered over as we all got up and dusted ourselves off. Chess Club was losing his shit screaming about suing me and Mike. One cop pulled him aside and asked what was going on. The other stood beside us, thumbs looped through his duty belt. 

Chess Club then began his list of demands “I want to know if these guys are volunteers or employees. They have no fucking right to touch me if they’re volunteers…I want their NAMES, I want their SOCIAL INSURITY numbers (yes, that’s what he said, social insurity) and I want….”

“Alright alright alright” the cop said, hands up, half laughing. Turning to me he asked “What happened”

“He was jumping around bumping into people, spilling beer all over so I asked him to stop, so he threw a beer at me”

The cop looked at my half soaked security shirt, then at Mike who was nodding like a bobble head on rough road. Chess Club lost it, he literally jumped up around in a circle in a full on adult tantrum. “That’s bull shit, they have no fucking right, I didn't throw any fucking beer...they have no right to touch me!” he screamed.

The cop looked at him and said “yeah, you’re probably right, let’s take a drive and talk about your rights” as he turned the kid around and cuffed him.

“What?! What the fuck!?” screamed Chess Club as he was walked over to a cruiser on the curb.

I looked at Mike, then the 2^nd cop. “Holy shit man, we didn’t want him to get arrested, we just wanted him to leave”

The cop kinda shrugged “We’ll probably just take him home. Or maybe he can cool it in the drunk tank. We’ll see how the drive goes. Call us if you need anything!” he chirped as he walked away.

Mike and I went back inside to our posts, and the organizer came running over asking if we were ok. Yup, all good thanks. Then a lady and her husband, who both looked kind of damp, came over to Mike and me and said “Hey, thanks for throw that kid out”
“No problem”
“Yeah what a dick” she said.” Can I buy you guys a beer?”
“Sure” I said, then threw a thumb over my shoulder at Mike “He might need two”
She smiled and said alright and wandered to the bar, bringing us back three plastic cups full of suds.

Things tend to work out.

Wanted - A Friday night in early May

This dude walks in. Typical douche bag attire.

Affliction shirt, big chain, designer douche bag jeans, couple sleeves, in decent shape but walking around like he's carrying two heavy invisible suitcases. I already dislike this guy from a couple other times he's been in.

At some point he left and I didn't see him for a while. One of the guys asked me if I'd seen where he went but I didn't know. Well, seems a girl inside thinks he drugged her drink. Oh, I said not terribly surprised. Well, I'll keep and eye out and won't let him back in.

The next time I saw him he was in cuffs. Apparently our friend decided to take a leak on the side of the bar, in front of a cop car. (The bar was half empty, there was no line up, he just decided the side of the building was as good a place as any) While they were writing up his $300 ticket they ran his name and found out he had outstanding warrants somewhere else.  He spent the next hour in the back of a cop car while they figured out what to do with him. Meanwhile, I sent the girl who thought she was drugged home. (and I'm no crime scene investigator but I don't really think she was) She didn't want to leave, but I told her if she'd been drugged she needed to go to the hospital. If not, she was FAR to drunk or high to stay at the bar. She left unhappy.

Later, Captain Douche gets cut loose from the cops. He asked if he could come in and I said no. He started to plead his case and I told him I just don't care. He asked me if I could call him a cab. I pointed to the 2 that were parked 10 feet away. He shook his head, stopping to yell at the "drugged" girl's friends, informing them that they were bitches. Class act the whole way.

Later Dave walked out with a guy and told me that he stole a shot from the shooter girl. The guy said something along the lines of its not fair you won't hear my side of the story. He tried to come back in but I said no. Then he decided to try the "oh I've got a tab" routine. "No you don't" I said.
He argued with me for a while and finally said "So I got a bunch of free shots then? Thanks alot" and stuck out his hand. "I'm not going to shake your hand" I said.
"No, cause you're disrespectful" he replied. Well that pissed me off.
"Yeah, You're a thief but I'm the desrespectful one? Dipshit" (Ok, to be fair, dipshit is kind of a lame insult, but it was in the heat of the moment.)
He made fun of me for calling him a dipshit and stood around smoking for a few minutes. Oh, yeah, he didn't have a tab.

As Dipshit was leaving, Dave walked out another girl who had just done the same thing. She left on her own. Seems dipshits come in female too. Who knew?

I'm Prejudiced. I can deal with that.

I thought this was kind of cool in a "As long as
you're not dating my sister" kind of way

I'm extremely prejudiced. There are certain types of people who walk into the bar that I know will have a high probability of being trouble.

I was explaining my prejudice to a coworker the other night. "Dude anytime I see a guy with a neck tattoo, a guy wearing a track suit or a short guy, I know for sure we're going to have to throw someone out."

My buddy just laughed.

Within 20 minutes I found some little short dude grabbing some of other guy by the jacket shaking and screaming at him. So I grabbed him by the collar and dragged him to the front door. He thought i was being unfair.

A little while later a guy in a green track suit jacket was pissing on our wall outside. I noticed his neck tattoo said "Fearless" while I was telling him he couldn't come in. His girlfriend thought I was being unfair. I'm sorry, if I've seen your junk, you don't get back in. Thats just common sense.

Ok, yeah, I pre judge people. But I'm usually right. If you think I'm wrong let me know. I'll send them to your bar.

The Prince of Persia

Its about 9:30 on a Saturday night. I'm out front chatting with someone, Ty's working the door for me. This middle eastern looking dude in designer jeans and a track suit jacket, with enough gel in his hair to make Jersey Shore jealous, marches to the door. Ty puts up his hand in the international symbol for ID please (its the same symbol as "his penis was only this long" between a crooked finger and thumb) and says "Hey man, got your ID?"

The guy doesn't even slow down and says "No" and keeps marching. Ty puts his arm and a leg in front  of the guy to impede his progress and says. "You can't come in without ID".

The guy spins around and marches the other way. As he passes me he says "I'll fucking shoot this place up" and bee lines to his car. On his way he kicks over an innocent shopping cart. By this time all the bouncers are near the door and we start laughing. Helmet Hair opens his trunk and starts fishing around. We started speculating about what he might come up with. Maybe a gun, but most likely a tire iron or a pair of Dolce Gabbanna sunnies.

Finding exactly nothing useful, Hair Gel gets back in his beamer and guns it out of his parking stall. Demonstrating his wrath he whipped through the parking lot, only slowing down for speed bumps and traffic signs. Grrr.

James said the funniest thing I've heard in a while. "Maybe when he get his gun he'll remember his ID while he's at it."

We never saw track suit hair gel guy again that night, but I have a feeling he will be back. I'm packing an entire overnight case of hair products in anticipation.

The Heist

There's this little dick head who comes into the bar from time to time. He always wears a ball cap, has one of those whispy "I'm still going through puberty but no one's taught me to shave yet" moustaches, and a mullet. I shit you not, mullet is a style choice here. For more information on mullets click here.

One night dick head comes in with a half way attractive woman. Except they didn't arrive together. It wasn't until much later in the evening that I discovered a link between them  (this is what literary types call "foreshadowing") Let's give dick head a name. We'll call him Cross Eyed Mullet Guy. 

It was a pretty busy night and I was running around doing my bouncer thing. Toward the end of the night I saw Cross Eyed Mullet Guy leave with a fairly attractive young woman. I noticed he had a black purse in his hand. This is a fairly common occurence. Women come into the bar with a purse but somehow lack the ability to carry it back out, forcing their boyfriend, (or in many cases, their companion for the evening) to carry it for them. I watched Cross Eyed Mullet Guy carry the purse out thinking it must belong to the fairly attractive young lady he was leaving with. 

About five minutes later a nice lady with a Russian accent came up to me looking a little panicked and asked if anyone had seen a missing purse.  Even as I told her no, I knew where it had gone. Why didn't I stop that guy and ask him about the purse? The Russian lady and her friends searched the bar high and low before returning to me. I asked if it was a black purse with a big silver buckle and she said yeah. I told them I watched someone walk out with it. Damn.

One of them went outside and found the purse, completely empty, around the corner. Russia gave her info to the manager and I told one of the guys they were with to call the cops. They found most of her stuff around the corner from the bar, but all her cash and her phone were gone. I was so pissed off.

The next day we checked out the surveillance cameras and sure enough we saw the Russian on the dance floor hide her purse under a pile of coats (she could work for CSIS!). A little while later Cross Eyed Mullet Guy and the fairly attractive young lady wandered up to the table. While everyone was dancing she stuffed the purse into his jacket and the two of them walked out. You can even see a dumb ass bouncer wishing them a good night as they walk past. He looked a lot like me.

Later I discovered Russia didn't bother reporting the stolen purse. She had gotten most of her stuff back. Two weeks later I saw Cross Eyed Mullet Guy in line at the bar. I pointed him out to all my staff with instructions never to let him in. I also pointed him out to a Mountie who casually asked him and his buddy for their IDs. When Cross Eyed Mullet Guy finally got to the door I wouldn't let him in. He asked why and I told him he'd had too much to drink. He said he only had three beers. I said he should have stopped at two. When his buddies proceeded inside without him he asked me if we could have a "civil conversation" to which I said "No, now please move away from the door," and pushed him out of the way. He got mad and jumped in a cab.

I can't do anything about Cross Eyed Mullet Guy stealing the purse, but I will make sure he never steals from our clientele again. This will be my new game, every week I'm going to come up with a new reason why Cross Eyed Mullet Guy can't come into the bar after he's been standing in line for an hour. I'll keep you posted on how that goes! 

In the mean time, keep your stuff with you. If it won't fit in your pockets, leave it home, or hang out with someone who wears cargo pants! They won't mind carrying your shit, they'll just be happy someone invited them out somewhere in public!

Look Who's Talking

A great big muscle bound dickhead came up to me at the bar tonight and said, "Hey, this chicks causing problems" I look down at this little tiny woman who is FAR too pregnant to be in a bar full of staggering drunks, fight prone meat heads and the full gamut of Airdrie's intellectual elite.

"Do you know her?" I asked. "No."
"Do you know him?" I asked. "Who's baby do you think it is. He's got a knife, he went and got a knife when I was on the couch." she retorts. 
"Dude," I said to the meat head, "Tell me you didn't bring a knife into my bar."
Search me! He replied, throwing his meat arms into the air over his meat head.
So I patted him down. No knife.
"Ok," I says, "You two stay away from each other or I'll have to throw you both out."
"Dude" he said, "she's causing trouble, I'm just trying to have a good time."
Now, you see, I've realized that he's the father of the poor little critter growing in this woman's belly. The kid's future is already looking bright. Mom's a liar, dad's an asshole. She's making up stories because she doesn't want him out drinking. To be sure, the guy was a total jackass. Grade A douche meat this one was. This stupid couple have attempted to drag me into their domestic drama. Oh how I hate them. "Hey, I don't want to have any part of your domestic drama, separate or leave, both of you."

They part ways and end up in each other's faces at the other end. "Look, if you think he's got a knife call the cops." 
"Throw her out" he says.
"He took the biggest knife from drawer" She says. FFS
"ENOUGH!" I say and point opposite directions. They oblige.
I go back to my post. About 10 minutes later she shows up at the door and says to me, "You let him slip out the back I guess huh?"
"Lady, I've been up here since you last saw me. If he's not in there I don't know where he went."
"He took a knife from the house."
"He doesn't have it with him, I don't care. Call the cops. Or shall I?"
She stomps off. Later, he shows up and gives me shit for "not being a good fella" 
"Dude, if you speak to me again, about anything, the weather, hockey, the price of gas, I'll make sure you never have another beer in this place again."

That was the last I saw of him. Until the end of the night. Gave me a dirty look and left. Thats fine, I'll consider a dirty look the same as words. See how he likes drinking at the half empty dive bar over by he hi way for the rest of his time in Airdrie.