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.

Blue Hawaii

The night of the Mayweather Pacquiao fight was pretty busy. A buddy and I were working the door when a bunch of guys wearing Hawaiian shirts walked in. Here’s the thing with 6 guys in Hawaiian shirts coming to a bar in Airdrie to watch fights. They’re dicks.  They can’t even help it. I don’t know if it’s the power of the floral print, or the delusion of tropical grandeur, but 6 guys in Hawaiian shirts will always end up being dicks. These dicks were celebrating someone’s 31^st birthday.

After the fights the bar slowed down so we cut 2 of our guys, 1 of whom stayed on to have a beer.  The Hawaii 5-0 crew continued to be dumbasses, picking each other up, picking other people up, doing cartwheels on the dance floor, trying to order 25 shots at a time and just being dicks.

Finally 2am rolled around and birthday boy ran outside for a smoke.  He was pretty pissed off when we wouldn’t let him back in. I went off to talk to the cops about some old guy who got punched out earlier in the evening.  (Apparently he called a young lady a name that the cops wouldn’t repeat to me, and her boyfriend took exception and knocked him out cold in front of a starbucks) As I was giving them my details I saw a fight break out in front of the bar. I ran over to help break it up. 

Some guy was whaling on the birthday boy. I got between them and asked him to stop and he did. Just like that, he turned around and walked away. Birthday boy suddenly grabbed me so I held him down while he freaked out.  His buddy grabbed me from behind so I turned around and shoved him hard into the loving arms of an RCMP officer. Instead of just leaving it be, he started to wrestle with the cop. Genius.

I turned back to my guy just as two of his other buddies came running at me from inside the bar. Our off-duty guy had just finished putting his staff shirt back on in time to yank these guys back before they could lay a hand on me. (Thanks buddy!) Finally the cops came around and grabbed the birthday boy who was still losing his shit. That’s when I saw a can of pepper spray in one of the officers hands, (or at least I thought it was), either way, I was done, I hopped up and let them handle it.

As they cuffed the birthday boy and his buddy, I could see he had a broken nose. The rest of his crew decided to start crowding the cops, telling them what the law was (getting drunk and fighting in front of a bar is not illegal as long as everyone agrees to it), and arresting their buddies was illegal (you can’t arrest a guy for getting drunk and starting fights in front of a bar), and police harassment (a cop shining a flashlight at you is police harassment).  

One dick tried to engage us in a drunken debate as to who owns all the sidewalks (every sidewalk is public property, even if that sidewalk is on private property. Parking lots are also public property, so if you want to stand there threatening people, that’s perfectly legal). We held them back from getting near the cops while they did their thing. Then one of the Pineapple Gang decided that it was ME who started the fight with his buddy. The cop I was talking to earlier just shook his head.

Finally they let one of the douchebags go and threw the birthday boy in the back of a car. We went back to our station in front of the door and watched while the Hawaiian Tropic crew recorded everything on their phones and threatened to call their lawyers. The youngest, most newfie sounding of their crew informed us that he had at least 2 lawyers on speed dial. Of course you do.

The cops told them to get lost or they ‘d get arrested so they walked away; straight towards us. They gathered in front of the door giving us dirty looks for a few seconds before deciding to surround us. I told them to back up and they told me to fuck off. So I shoved two of them back. On guy grabbed my arm so I grabbed him by the head and threw him to the ground, then drove my elbow into his jaw. The other boys pinned the rest of the group up against wall by their throats until the cops came and broke us up again. They eventually staggered off to cabs, announcing that they’d somehow “won” whatever they thought had transpired.  

I found out later what started it all. Birthday boy looked at some guy holding his wife’s purse and called him a fag. Some other, bigger dude, who happened to be standing nearby, told him not to call people names. Birthday boy said, “What the fuck are you gonna do about it”. So bigger dude broke his face.

Anyway, it was far more exciting than the MayPac fight, with much less hugging. And Friday is only 3 days away!!

Mayweather Hugs

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 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.

Meatballs

I haven't worked as a bouncer at the bar for some time now. But I do hang out there from time to time. Every-so-often I'll notice some knuckle dragging meat head looking at me, with his head cocked to the side like a dog, trying to figure out where he knows me from. Usually its from kicking them out of a bar.

One night I stopped for a drink on the way home. I sat down only to realize I was 2 seats down from  meat head.  I ordered a beer and chatted with the bartender. Eventually Meathead and his buddy noticed me. They sat and whispered while I sat and drank. After about 10 minutes of this he saunters over and asks if I remember him.

"Yeah, didn't I throw you out of here for fighting?" I said.
"Yeah, well, I wanna know the name of the guy who sucker punched me, where can I find him?" he said.
"I dunno, I think his name was J. but that's all I know" I said.
"How come you treated him better than me that night" he said, agitated.
"I didn't. You got into a fight, I threw you out, someone else threw him out"
"Yeah?" he said, sullenly "I think he's your buddy, that's why you treated him better than me"
"He's not my buddy, like I said, you get into a fight, you get thrown out. That's how it works at every bar in Alberta man. As a matter of fact, I let you stick around and talk to the manager because you said he was a friend of yours"
By this time a couple of friends of mine had shown up and sat with me. Meathead was holding onto one of those giant 1 litre beer glasses like he was gonna swing it. The bartender, some new guy looked like he was going to pee himself.

Meat head starts again, asking where the guy who sucker punched him was, I gave him the same answer, then he asked why I treated the other guy better...seriously, reread the last paragraph, twice more, that's how our circular conversation went.

Finally I said, "You know, its your fault you got fucking sucker punched eh.We watched the video cameras after. You were up on the dance floor all shit faced slamming into everyone. You slammed into that guy and he clocked you. Simple as that."
He looked at me, furrowed his impressive sloping brow and said "There's no cameras in here"

His buddy, who was actually doing a pretty good job at keeping the peace up till now said "yeah dude, they're all over...look" We waved his arms expansively, revealing a ceiling covered in security eyes.

Meathead furrowed his brow again "Yeah, well, the manager showed me the tapes and I didn't slam into anyone"
"Wait, you just said there were no cameras, so which is it?"

Meathead didn't have an answer for that, he just readjusted his grip on the giant beer glass. Meanwhile one of the regulars had circled around Meathead and looked as if he'd pounce like a feral cat if that glass came off the counter too fast. "Yeah, well, I think you've got some sort of problem with me" Meathead said, like a child.

I was getting tired of this, I stood up "Yeah man, I do have a problem with you. I didn't, but I do now. You're standing here harassing me about a fight you got into over a year ago. As a matter of fact, I seem to remember pulling a guy off you, and stopping another guy from punching you in the back of the head. Then you went out back and whined to the manager for an hour, and told me you were a Hell's Angel (he isn't) and that I better watch who I was fucking with. So yeah dude, I've got a problem with you."

He just looked at me. You could hear tiny wheels turning behind his dull eyes, squeeking, straining..."I don't believe that"
I shrugged, turned and sat down with my back to him.
He stood a moment longer, then walked away "Fuck this, lets get the fuck out of here" he said to his buddy. He trudged out, his buddy in tow.

The bartender stopped holding his breath and looked at me. "You guys were making me nervous" I just laughed and told him not to worry about it.

Meathead ended up at someone's house after that and told everyone he would have kicked my ass if all my friends weren't there. I guess the 10 minutes he had before my friends showed up wasn't enough time to get that job done.

Anyway, the guy he's looking for had been a regular at the bar for about 2 months. I had spoken to him a few times and it turns out he had just gotten out of jail after a 14 year stint in Dorchester for beating a guy to death with a baseball bat for sleeping with his wife. He never came back after the fight with Meathead. But yeah...I'll definitely reacquaint Meathead with him if I ever get the chance. I'm sure it'll work out for him.

Tank Girl

So yeah, got punched by a girl tonight. Right in the face too.

I saw the DJ explaining things to a bouncer on the other side of the bar. He looked like he was doing semaphore. I didn't think much of it. Our bar is loud. People talk with their hands. Oh look, something shiny.

I stepped back to the door when a little tiny girl came over pointing. I couldn't hear her but the owner of the club tapped me and said, "Fight" pointing to the dance floor. Ok, no problem, I could see James was on it. I walked over and he was pushing some guy out. There was a girl trying to stop them but James was bowling the two of them over.

Finally they got free from the throng of people and buddy started swinging. I got on the opposite side of him, grabbed an arm and we, there might of been a third bouncer by now, walked him out. When we got to the door his girlfriend, cute little thing in hot pink pants, punched me in the face.

We pushed the guy out and he started going nuts. He was swinging fists at everyone. Suddenly I saw the girlfriend fly by me, James pushing her out of the way. Later I found out the cops had James hang on to her while they were dealing with what I was up to. Douchey McPunchalot started bellowing something and headed toward them. I stepped in the way and he took a swing. I don't know when during this whole exchange he caught me with a punch, but he did. The only thing I could think when it happened was "Huh, the girlfriend hits harder"

I got to the end of my patience and tripped McPunchalot, landing on top of him. I drove my elbow into his face and asked him if he really wanted to fight any more. About the third time I asked I heard someone say "Ok partner, I think he's had enough." I looked up and saw cop boots. Only cops wear cop boots. So I hopped up. Fortunately for me was one of the cooler cops in town that I've got a little bit of rapport with. He took it from there, and lifted a crying McPunchalot off the ground. I've said it before. If you're the type of guy to start fights, you can't cry when it doesn't go your way. Seriously!

After about 10 minutes of interviewing them I wandered toward their car. The cop with the boots came over and asked what happened. I told him what had happened inside up till I got punched in the face by a girl. He laughed and said that and she was a real charmer. He told me they'd put them in a cab and if they came back to call. I said sure, then I appologized for driving this guys face into the gravel multiple times. Caught up in the moment I was.  The cop laughed and said "These things happen"

Later pink pants came back to look for her leather jacket and thought I was a dick for not letting her stay to find it. It never turned up at the end of the night. Probably stolen. That makes me kind of happy

Grumpy Old Men

I had to stop a geriatric fight the other night. A dirty old man, in his late 60s I'd guess, came in and got fantastically drunk. Like, wow drunk.

We had to remove him for being a dick. Touching the girls in their no-no areas, picking fights, being overly exhuberant etc.

I asked him to leave but he didn't see it my way so I took his arm and turned him towards the door and started to guide him out. He spun back and screamed "Don't put your hands on me" That, by the way, is the most offensive thing you can do to a drunk, is put your hands on them. Never mind that he's been pawing at some poor young beer tart all night long, but I've mortally offended this gentleman by putting my hands on his shoulders. The injustice of it all!!

I said fine, head to the door and I won't touch you again. Rinse and repeat. 3 more times before we hit the door he's stopped leaving, I've had to nudge him along and drawn his ire and indignation. Outside he let me know how he really felt about me. I wished him a good night as he turned to walk away. As he did he caught his coat on the little post we use for the velvet ropes in front of the door. He got spun around backwards, lost his balance and wiped out, stands and ropes piling on top of him. His hat and glasses go flying. It was like a yard sale. The whole thing would have been comical if he hadn't been running the risk of breaking a hip. He stood up, pointed at me and screamed "He fucking punched me" I was a good 10 feet away from where he started to fall in the first place.

The smokers he was addressing just looked at him and one said, "No, he didn't"
My drunken grandpa staggered over over to them, shuffling like a nursing home zombie, "Yes he did!!" By now I had scooped up his hat and glasses and handed them back. He took them without looking at me, elbowed me in the gut playfully and said "He didn't really punch me, I'm just gonna get him in trouble."
"Good to know"

He ambled toward a cab when suddenly a guy screams "Gord, you mother fucker" A second old guy (Lets call him Bert) lunges and starts shaking poor Gord. Bert's 20 something son and I pry them apart, both old farts now screaming about the world of hurt they're going to put on each other.
"Gord owes me sixty bucks! I'm gonna kick the shit out of him"
"Not here"
"How far away do I have to take him to kick his ass then"
"Far enough away that I can't see it and call the cops, but why don't you deal with this when you're both sober"
"Cause I haven't seen the cocksucker in 3 years, if I don't kick his ass now I won't ever see him again"
Meanwhile Gord is stepping side to side like a little old punch drunk boxer screaming things like "Lets go, I'll fight you hear and now you shit head, you turd, you stupid-" at this point he ran out of clever insults.

I looked at Bert and his son "Hey, he owes you 60 bucks? But he's been ducking your for 3 years? Money well spent don't you think?"
Bert started to laugh and went for a smoke, his son rambling on and on about how he was just trying to keep the peace. Yeah, yeah, no one cares jr.

At some point Gord got his wrinkly old ass into a cab and slammed the door.

Bert and his son were awfully hurt I wouldn't let them back in after their attempt at a geriatric smack down. They promised they'd never return.

Punch Drunk Love

"Man, we haven't had a fight in a while."
The second he said it we both knew we were jinxed. I just didn't know how much.

I was working the door hours later when someone I didn't know said, "Hey, you need to get in there." I looked up and there's the manager holding a guy back, two bouncers dragging people in different directions and a guy with a serious cut on his head. By the time I got there Ty was trying to get the guy with the cut to come with him so he could clean him up and stop the bleeding. The guy's girlfriend, not understanding, punches Ty in the face. I held her back and explained to her that she was bad. Bad, bad, bad, and tapped her on the nose with my finger. That confused her. Fine. The guys were taking the bad guys outside.

I walked over to see whats happening with the manager and a second fight breaks out. Some guy flies across the bar and smacks another guy, the one the manager was holding, right in the face. The other guy breaks free and tackles the first. I end up holding the one guy down while someone else started pulling them apart. These guys are both regulars. I pinned the first guy down and told him if he let go we wouldn't let guy on top hit him. Amazingly it happened just like that. The first guy chills out and I let him up. I was about to find out what happened when another fight erupted at the door. FFS!! Fortunately the bartenders and the manager are on top of this one.

So I ran over. Pure pandemonium. Every bouncer is tangled up with someone. The cook is trying to pull a guy off Ty (how the hell did he get out front so quick?) and another guy who's trying to help Ty punched our cook in the face because he didn't understand the situation. Ty gets some guy into a guillotine choke so I try to pull them apart before Ty really hurts him. Meanwhile, some OTHER guy is screaming hysterically about how he's going to kill some one, and being held back by our 130lb DJ. (That is the mark of a guy who wants to seem like he wants to fight but doesn't want to fight, being held back by a 130lb DJ)

Finally we get it all settled. Everyone on their feet. People heading towards cabs. Everyone dusting themselves off. Then someone breathed. Or a twig snapped. Or something, but it was back on. Bodies started flying everywhere. One guy turns and sucker punches some hippy french dude in the face. I heard it more than saw it. James grabs the guy, then some guy grabbed James from behind in a choke hold. Ty pulls that guy off just as James was rolling out of it and starts punching him in the face. Hard. I grabbed the sucker puncher and he started to flail so I put him in a head and arm. James turned around and slugged him about 3 times. I could feel the impacts through this guys body.

So I finally drag the guy down into a bush and pin him. The guy started losing his shit. I mean freaking out hard, like I was holding his head under water, begging me to get everyone off of him. I tell him to calm down. I look, and the DJ has his legs pinned down. We finally let him up and I escort him to a cab where his more reasonable friend is trying to get hysterical screamer guy into a cab.

Now I realize the guys I'm fighting with all love me. They all went to my high school back east. We even went to the same elementary school, just 10 years apart it seems. Everything was cool earlier in the evening, they were hugging me and telling me how happy they were to see another Maritimer, so I don't know what the hell happened. By then they were in a cab and they all wanted to shake my hand and apologise. I'm thinking "Fuck, don't apologize, just don't punch people in the face."Finally they drove away.

I went back inside and there are the two dudes I ended up prying apart inside the bar earlier, sitting together having a beer. I looked at the manager and he said "they're getting along, having a beer, its more trouble having them leave than to just let them hash it out" Great. I saw how they "hash it out" earlier, but I guess they can enjoy their love-in for the time being.

It took a half hour to get them all out at the end of the night, tensions were still running high, but eventually they all left.

I had a seriously enjoyable beer after that. And I think it's time for a raise, don't you? That's my new survey question. Do you think Luke needs a raise There are only two answers. Yes, and Fuck Yeah!