Stuart Little

I started working at the door again. I missed the stories. The guys they hired since I left are great and its been fun working with them and trading stories with the new crew about things that happened over the years and comparing notes on the bar flies that are still coming in since I left.  My first couple of nights back were pretty uneventful. Some shoving that got broken up quickly, and a few guys getting too aggressive with some of the girls. We had a pervert get thrown out, who stood outside sticking his tongue out until someone found him a cab. Someone made a drunk girl cry, someone else tried to steal a 26. We tried to stop a drunk from driving away while not getting run over. You know, the usual.

For some reason I had a feeling this past weekend would be different. Maybe it was the weather, or the phase of the moon, or just the right amount of time after Christmas for the assholes to come back out and earn their namesakes.

Say No To Crackheads
As soon I got to work Friday I noticed this older couple saunter in and out of the club, heading out for smokes, each trip the walk becoming a little more precarious for them as they began to teeter from the booze. After a while they were arguing every time they came out. They were both small, mid 50’s. He looked like he’d been an accomplished head banger in his youth, she looked like an accomplished crack head. I kept an eye on them but wasn’t too concerned.

Later in evening one of our waitresses came out and asked me to watch the crack heads. They had a big tab going and were making her uneasy. Sure, no problem. I can do that.  The next time they came out I kept an eye on them. Same ‘ol thing.  I lost interest in them until, out of the corner of my eye I noticed it all got a little more animated. Crack Lady had suddenly shoved Banger Boy hard, and his arms pinwheeled.  He gained traction, leaned forward and spit in her face (classy, I know!)

I turned to grab one of the other guys to help break them up as they pushed and shoved their way into the parking lot. As we approached, the little tiny crack lady used her super-crack-strength™ to lift her banger boyfriend up and flip him over onto the ground. 

Out of nowhere a big RCMP officer pulled up, pried the entangled geriatric mess apart and arrested the aggressor. Our little head banger staggered off into the night.

I wandered over to tell the RCMP what I saw. I didn’t think, having been spat on, that her little judo throw was completely unwarranted. The whole time she was in the back seat screaming at the injustice of it all, oblivious that I’m actually pleading her case a little. The cop thanked me and I let him know they owed us 170 bucks. He said he’d figure it out.

Turns out the lady had no money on her, and banger dude was gone, but they were looking for him. The Couple of the Year had a friend there who offered to pay their tab. That was nice. He didn’t tip. That sucked.

Keep On Barking Little Doggie
On Saturday a group of kids walked up to the door and I asked them to make a line so I could card them. The smallest of the crew made it clear he didn’t appreciate being made to wait. His highness kept complaining, loudly, until he finally got inside, laughing like he got away with something. Later, when the kid was pretty drunk, I told my buddy on the inside that I was pretty close to kicking this kid out, so if he did anything at all they should just remove him. My buddy laughed and said that he was going to pick this little dude up like a dog and just carry him out.

Sure enough, 10 mins later mighty mouse was harassing some chick in the bar. When the bouncers told him to stop he argued with them, so my buddy picked him up sideways, like you would a small dog on your hip, and started to walk him out. The kid freaked out and squirmed away grabbing everything he could get his hands on to stop himself from being pulled out. Another guy grabbed him and the two of them wrestled him out. 

He stood in the bitter cold for almost 45 minute, nothing on but a sweatshirt, smoking, and laughing like he had just won some battle of wits no one else was playing. He bragged to his friends that he was going to go punch a cop in the face before finally running off into the night after a cab. (There was an officer sitting in a pickup outside the bar this entire time but our little friend for some reason didn’t end up raining his tiny little fists of fury upon him).

That was pretty much it for this week. Hopefully nothing too exciting happens next week, I'll let you know.

There Will Be Blood

The DJ came over and told me that someone threw cutlery at the guy dancing by himself on the dance floor. Or at least the guy dancing by himself asked the DJ if he threw cutlery at him. Assuming it was the group of 5 guys sitting by the dance floor, if it had happened at all, I wandered over and asked them to never ever throw cutlery at anyone again. They agreed that that was a good idea.

I should have just kicked them out.

All night long James and I were watching these guys. They just felt like trouble. No reason, nothing glaring, but something. Later, Sanj called me over, said that there were just too many rowdy guys on the dance floor. I stationed our biggest guy right on the dance floor overlooking the group of guys. Sanj was just to the side and I stood right where everyone could see me. James was overlooking things from just off the door. There was no doubt what we were doing. I achieved what I wanted, the dance floor thinned out. I was walking away when I saw Sanj rush to hold a guy back. Andrew was dragging another guy away. Something must have happened. Andrew let the guy go and let me take over. I let the guy grab his red hoodie and I walked him out, his buddies in tow. Great, no problems.


What I didn't know was James had kicked out another guy who had been egging the first group of guys on. This dude and his friend were outside standing by the door smoking. The group of 5 were getting into a cab when suddenly one of them came flying over and punched the smart ass dude in the face. We peeled everyone apart but this one guy just couldnt' let it go. He kept accusing the smart ass and his friend of smirking at them. They weren't smirking, they were scared. I told them to leave. They wouldn't. They just stood there. Stupidly.

We held the group of 5 back until suddenly it all broke lose. Someone grabbed Andrew in a head lock, James pulled him off and threw him onto the hood of a taxi. I dragged some guy back wards onto his back, and told him not to get up. Strangely he obliged. Red Hoodie attacked Andrew who clubbed him in the face and grabbed ahold of him. Suddenly, some other dude, who wasn't involved in any of this reached over Andrew and punched Red Hoodie in the face. Now we were holding back people from different groups who were all trying to get in on the action. I don't know how it happened but I grabbed Red Hoodie and dragged him away, literally across the ground about 4 feet. A trail of blood followed him. Whoever punched him broke his nose bad. He looked like an extra from the walking dead.

That seemed to end it I think. Sanj had called the cops, or gotten the manager to. Andrew's shirt was torn half off. For some reason the asshole who started the whole thing thought Andrew should donate his shirt to Red Hoodie's bleeding face because it was torn. Why the sweet fuck we should care about his well being is beyond me. Personally, if I found out tomorrow morning that the guy bled to death I wouldn't lose too much sleep over it. (Ok, maybe not to death, but something close to it maybe). We gave them some bar towels to clean up because the cabbies wouldn't take them otherwise.

this is what I looked like last night

They stood outside stupidly for about 5 minutes until the first cop car arrived. The scrambled to get in and away but the cops just stopped the cab and dragged them out. The interviewed them and sent them away. I asked what they'd had to say for themselves and the cop told me that they were being assholes. Turns out they're from Toronto. Go figure.

The other two guys still hadn't left. Turns out they were french and that was part of the reason they were targeted. The cops spoke to them and eventually got them to leave.

In the end it took three of  us and  4 big buckets of water and a considerable amount of scrubbing to get all the blood off the sidewalk. Other than that it was a peaceful evening. I love long weekends.

Chasing Amy - A new beer app you say? Ok.

The boys at work were talking about a beer app they were using called Untappd. Basically its a social app that lets you track your beer as you drink it. You 'check in' each time you have a beer and it keeps track of how many beers, and how many distinct beers you've drunk.  You can use the location services feature on your phone say where you're drinking as well. You can take a picture of your brew as proof that you really did have it.

Of course you can win badges, for example if you check in at the same bar on the same night as another friend, you both get the night out badge. On Sunday I got the St. Paddy's Day badge, and if the "irish" bar I went to actually had more than 3 irish beers on tap I would have gotten the "Luck of the Irish" badge as well. Oh well.

The only thing that annoys me is that I've been drinking for many years...now I have to 'catch up' to a bunch of 20 something coworkers in the eyes of some app that couldn't even possibly been concieved of when I had my first beer.

Anyway....download it and add me! Luke C / pourter at  https://untappd.com/

Undercover Blues

Theres a woman who comes in and gets very very intoxicated on a regular basis. She's a bit of trouble maker but not to the point that its a problem. Yet.

Last week she was running around telling our staff she was an undercover cop. She tried to get in after close to "do my walk through". One of the guys said sure, lets see your badge. She left

Last night she came in and told three of the bouncers that she failed her undercover test because we wouldn't let her in. Oh...thats really too bad! 

When I couple of real cops came in I was telling one of them about it and he burst out laughing. "Yeah, that's the hall mark of good undercover cop. Telling everyone you're undercover"

Later in the evening we kicked out Undercover for pushing out manager for being "too stiff"

The Invention of Lying

So last week we threw a guy out for harrassing the bartender. He also tried to slam the door on my arm when I finally got him to leave. Real class act.

He turned up again tonight when there were about 20 people in line. He walked to the front and told one of my guys he was on the VIP list. My guy told him he wasn't (because there isn't one) Drunk shit head then asks the manager's name, so Ty tells him. DSH (Drunk Shit Head) then asks if he can come in ahead of the line for $20, holding the bill over his head so everyone in line can see. (I swear I should write a book on how to grease a bouncer). Subtlety is not a strong suit here in A-Town. They argued back and forth for a bit.

Ty was a bit grumpy tonight and gets angry and again says the guy isn't coming in. The guy replies, "Oh yes I am, you'll see", then starts dialling his phone. This is a common ploy...this is when the drunk moron bluffs that he knows the manager and is going to get the bouncer in trouble. What he forgets is that he already had to ask the manager's name. Ty yells at him to get back in line, so he does and I took over from Ty at that point.

Thats when I realized it was the same Shit Head from the week before. "Hey Ty, is that the same shit head from the week before?"
"I dunno" Ty shrugged and ambled back inside.

Now drunks in line ups (or queues for my Aussie mates) are like glaciers. They're cold and they keep slowly inching forward. If you're not careful you'll look up and they're all over you and you get crushed. I yelled for everyone to take a big step back to avoid a fate worse than death. That's when DSH yells, "How much longer do I have to wait?" as though we were personally inconveniencing him.

That really pissed me off. "Hey dude, you might as well get out of line now because there's no way you're coming into this bar tonight" I yelled over about 15 people.
"Why?"
"Cause you're being an asshole" I replied.
"I tried to give the other guy money" he yelled, over top of all the cold people standing ahead of him, like an idiot.
"I don't care" I replied.
"Well maybe you're an asshole" he said.
"I can live with that" I said
"You're a fucking asshole" he reiterated his arguement.
"You just said that" I pointed out. Meanwhile the group in the front is having a good laugh at DSH's expense.
"FUCK YOU!!" he retorted and stomped off. I guarantee he'll call the bar tomorrow looking for the manager to complain.

I just hope I'm in early enough to take the call.

The Exorcist

Tonight I saw a bunch of girls, staff and ex staff (fired for punching a customer in the face) looking around the corner of the building laughing. Their heads were stacked one on top of the other like in those old scooby doo cartoons.

I got Ty to cover the door and I mosied on down. Around the corner some kid was puking his brains out. It was like the Tequila Exorcist. If his head started spinning I would have nodded and gone "Yup, that fits"

So I headed around the corner back to the door, assured Ty that everything was good and sent him back to the dance floor.

About 2 mins later this kid came up to the door. I held my hand up as he approached (I don't wanna touch this dude) "Hey man, you've had enough, lets call it a night ok?" 
I'm being nice. I like this kid, he's weird, awkward, kinda funny looking. He's like a baby bird, or a chi hua hua; cute in that hideously ugly way.

"I'm ok" he declares.
"Dude," I said (as I write this I realise my dude ratio is getting up there, I think I need to spend some time in a library, or a classroom, or museum or something...I'm turning into a pale, overweight Jersey Shore) "I just watched you puking your brains out, you've had enough, you can't come in"

He replies, and no, I can't make this up: "It wasn't my brains, it was liquid"
No kidding. I blinked a few times and processed his argument. He wasn't lying, I'll give him that.
"Ok, Yeah, well I have a rule, you throw up, you go home"
"Noooo maaaaaaaan," he whines, "It just went down the wrong pipe.

Now, I'm a clumsy person. I often bite my own tongue, choke on cracker crumbs, burn the roof of my mouth on pizza, and occasionally, find my epiglottis in the the breathing position when it should be flipped over in the drinking position. I have never thrown up 3 gallons of beer and tequila over a mailbox beside a Staples as a result of this. Not once. I've coughed, my eyes have watered but I have never projectile vomited the contents of a tail gate party while giggling waitresses watched with a rare mix of horror and glee. Never.

I just stared. Then someone new came to the door who I needed to turn my attention to and lost track of Pukey McGee. When I next looked up, my awkward baby bird was getting into the back of a cab. I was thankful that I don't clean cabs for a living. Or mailboxes for that matter.