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.

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.