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 Sound of Music

I walked into the bar one day to visit a friend who was working a slow shift. As I sat down I heard some guy singing along (badly) with the music. I looked back towards the VLTs and the bartender and the waitress just sort of rolled their eyes. Apparently the guy had been there all day getting smashed and pumping his pay check into the machine. Cool.

He hollered that he needed another drink. The whole time she's taking his order, or delivering his drink he was talking. Half rambling, half flirting, and wholly making an ass of himself.

Finally she told him she was serving him his last drink. He was amiable about being cut off and happily took his rye and ginger. About 5 minutes later he said "Ok, I'll take 1 more double and then I'll settle up" he said.

The waitress apologized, said she couldn't serve him anymore and said when ever he was ready he could come up and pay. He argued a little, but she was firm. So he went and asked the bartender for a drink. She said no. That's when he decided he didn't order everything that was on his bill and the waitress was ripping him off. She explained his tab and he paid, saying that his change better be there cause she was a bitch who was bitch who was stealing from him. The bartender told he couldn't talk to her waitresses like that. He then announced that the bartender was a bitch and she could go fuck herself. Thats when I decided he should probably just go home.

I stood up and said "Alright pal time to leave" he did the exact thing drunk assholes do. He literally screamed "DON"T YOU FUCKING TOUCH ME!!"  What is it with drunks not being touched? Anyway, I stepped between him and the bar and started walking him towards the door. He scrambled backwards telling me he'd kick my ass. Then he stumbled and half grabbed my arm trying not to fall over. So we got into a little shoving match.

Suddenly he stopped and said he'd meet me outside. Then he ran and jumped in the air, kicking the door open on his way and ran into the night. I shrugged and turned around. One of my buddies had stood up and had my back, so that was nice. We laughed about the drunk in the parking lot waiting for a guy twice his size to come out and pound him into paste. I wondered how long he'd wait.

I got my answer a second later when he stuck his head in the door and screamed that I was a pussy. Then, in a great off balanced swooping arc he threw a handful of change at us. Most of it hit the ceiling about 10 feet ahead of him and bounced back down onto the floor.  I got up again and he turned and ran off into the night.  He'll be missed.

The Switch

A kid walked up to the door with no ID. After a few minutes of arguing he gave up and walked back to his friends. One of his friends came up to me and explained that he'd just lost his liscence and that's why he had no ID. Wow, that sucks. Still can't come in.

A few minutes later the kid with no ID came up to me with ID that said he was Steve someone or other. He didn't look like the guy in the picture so I sent him packing. Finally he left and his group of friends came to the door. So we asked them all for ID again. When Steve someone or other showed me his ID I told him he couldn't come in. He wanted to know why. Well...because you thought you were smarter than me. And you're not Steve something or other. Now toddle on home smart guy.

Later a girl came to the bar and had ID that looked a little like her, but it wasn't. So I asked her for another piece. She didn't have another piece but swore that it was her. Just as she said this 3 cops piled out of the bar. I said "Tell you what. You show your ID to those cops, if they think it's you, I'll let you in."
She left.

ST PADDY'S DAY TODAY!!

Like the poster I made? I'm not just a hat rack you know!!

Crash

They're all idiots. Just about every person, man or woman, short, tall, black, white, purple, brown, rich poor, smart, stupid; just about everyone who walks through our doors is an idiot.

I'm seriously considering encouraging drunk driving just to help elevate the gene pool. Usually I tell people to get home safe, get a cab, don't drive. No more. We're going the other way with this thing.

"Oh no buddy! You're fine to drive, just ignore that cab! Stagger on over to your jacked up pick up truck and go! It'll be fine. Pack a bunch of people in there. I know there's only 5 seat belts, but don't bother with seat belts! Those are for pussies! Get all yer buddies in there! Take the back roads, you can drive as fast as you want! No cops! Pin 'er to the floor! I know you're seeing double! That just means you're paying twice as much attention. You can do it man! You've already thrown up twice...that means you're empty. Probably more sober than anyone in here. You've got my blessing. Hey, if you come back tomorrow night your first drink's on me!"

Its a great plan. I know you think I'm a horrible, horrible person right now, but in 20 years when these idiots aren't having children, you'll thank me. Crime will go down. Test scores will sky rocket. The chronically stupid with no longer wander the streets aimlessly spitting and swearing. Trust me. Best thing for everyone involved. You'll see. I'll be a hero. They'll build me a statue. People will sing about me in the hills.

Dazed and Confused

There's a woman that comes into the bar all the time. She gets really drunk. She gets into arguments with other women. She constantly tries to have people kicked out for various infractions. Basically anyone who rubs her the wrong way. She's lied to all of the staff about being and undercover RCMP officer. She's been kicked out for having been 'overserved' on a few occasions. She is not someone I'd like to have to see on a regular basis, much less depend on.

At the end of the night tonight some hippy looking guy wearing a toque with pom poms comes to the door. It's well after two and I told him the bar was closed.

Hippy Guy tried to sneak in past me using some rail thin emaciated bar star chicks as cover. I threw him out and we had a bit of a physical altercation. After the third time I knocked him over he decided that his Vegan-Bon Ivor-Birkenstock-Westfalia Kung Fu was no match for my Punch You In The Face You Dirty Drunk Hippy Kung Fu. (Despite my attempt at humour I was really not being a bully in this situation, guy wouldn't leave, and I had to physically stop him from coming in). He called me a name, flipped me off and walked home (or where ever dirty hippies go, I'm assuming a grow op or some sort of squatters habitat to eat granola and bitch about the corporate military complex or some such thing)

I looked up and there was Undercover looking at me "That was so hot" she said. Oh no.
"Uh yeah, uh, so are you leaving or what?" I asked.
"No, I want to hang out with you" she slurred.
Great..."Well, I gotta do bouncer stuff" I replied.
I flagged down another guy to work the door and started rounding people up to leave. Undercover started following me around the bar. Eventually she asked why there were no female bouncers. I said I didn't know. To be honest, none have ever applied. I have no problem with female bouncers, I've seen women cool down a confrontation alot quicker than any of us guys can,and I met some awsome door staff in Aus who were women.  But alas, I don't think a woman has ever applied to work the door at my little corner of the world.
Undercover started petitioning me to hire her to work as a bouncer. Despite having a tremendous amount of character flaws, I would say the absolute worst way to get a job is to apply in a bar at 2:30 am when the staff is trying to clean up and you've been drinking and you're a known liar and shit disturber. But that didn't stop Undercover.

I told her to bring in a resume. She told me that she'd be great at breaking up girl fights.
I said great, bring in a resume. She told me she's training to be an RCMP. I said great, bring in a resume. She told me that she had lots of experience dealing with high stress situations. I said great, bring in a resume. She said some other stuff. Finally I got mad. "Look, I don't hire people here, its not my job, I just tell them what to do, you want a job, bring in a resume, but I don't have time to talk to you, you need to go home, go to sleep, sober up and type up your resume, ok?" She blinked at me.

As I made my escape I looked up to see Sandie, one of our bartenders laughing at the whole situation. "Did you make a new friend?" she teased, the way you might talk to a dog who can't get his chew toy out from under the couch. Maybe I'll get Undercover to throw her out. First test!!

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.

American History X

I was cleaning up, moving chairs around, checking on a guy who wasn't paying his bill when Ty started waving frantically at me. I walk out and Ty leans over to me "Some guy called him Nigger"
I looked up to see a massive black man who I'd noticed hanging out, peacefully, at the bar earlier. There was no peace to be had now. This guy was pissed. Full-on enraged. So I walked over like nothing was up and said "Hey man, what happened?"
"Mother fucker call me NIGGER!!" he roared. He was all kinds of tense. Fists balled up, shoulders high, arms rigid. You'd think he was carrying two really heavy suitcases. Possibly with bodies in them.
"Who?" I asked.
"That fucking mother fucker over there. I'm gonna fucking kill that fucking bitch"

Just to put this in perspective, my enraged customer was around 300+ lbs. The guy he pointed to was maybe 160. If he had a pocket full of change. Change he'd gotten after a big meal at Denny's. And he was oblivious to the serious amount of harm this guy was willing to do to him. He wasn't even paying attention at this point. Probably didn't even remember saying it.

"Man, that's bullshit" I said to the massive amount of angry human in front of me. It's important to stay calm in these situations I've learned. If I get excited, I'm just added more energy to a volatile situation. Talk like you're having a conversation, not stopping a fight. But don't be condescending. It's a fine line sometimes.
"He called me nigger, you can't fucking call me nigger, I'll kill you!" he screamed.
"Dude, I get that, and I appologize. I know your mad and I don't blame you. What's your name?"
He started to regain his composure but was still angry. He kind of looked away. I stuck out my hand.
"Look man, my name's Luke, I'm the head bouncer here, and I'm fucking sorry about this, its bullshit"
Finally the tension broke and he took my outstretched hand (Thank God) "Conolly" he said and gave me one of those hand shake hug combos that everyone does these days.

"Nice to meet you. Look man, I understand you're upset, and you have every right. That's bull shit. But if you go kick that shit out of that guy, it'll be a murder, you'll tear that little guy to peices."
Conolly burst out laughing and I got another hug. "Yeah, I used to bounce too man, at places scarier than this!" he said.
"I fucking knew it!" I said, poking him in the chest. I saw you standing around the bar. Can't turn it off can you?
He laughed and joked with me for a bit. His friends looked relieve that he wasn't going to murder someone tonight. I apologised again and told him that that kind of shit wasn't what our bar was about.
"Tell you what, tomorrow night first beers on me ok?" I said punching him playfully in the shoulder.
"Alright, alright" he said.
"So no murders tonight?" I said hopefully.
"No it's all good" he said.
"Alright man, I'll see you tomorrow" I said, relieved. "Get home safe" We shook hands and I went back inside.

About ten minutes later we saw him pounding on racist, and stupid, drunk he'd pointed out earlier. He managed to make this happen up the road from the bar though, which is all I really wanted anyway.  I can't let someone get beat up in the bar, or on our sidewalk...but I'm not in charge of the entire little town. The last I saw our little Klansman he was running from Conolly like a scared rabbit.

I really hope Conolly comes back, I wanna buy him that beer.

Hey, while you're here, click my survey to see what you're doing for St. Paddy's day! Its over there on the right somewhere!

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!

Tron

Man, all I can say is, if a whole room full of people think you're too drunk to stay, just leave. Tomorrow morning, when at least 1 asshole is waking up in a drunk tank with various charges levied against him, I'll be in my warm bed dreaming of all the beautiful women I got to draw on with glowing ink pens. My two favorite things! Art and attractive women!

Tonight was our second glow party. DJ Plan B and DJ Remedy, our two house spinners brought glow sticks, and balloons, a gorgeous body painter, and lots of glowing pens for us to play with.

Hundreds of people showed up in their best white and neon outfits. The place looked like it was on another planet. Glowing bracelets and necklaces, glowing body paint, glowing shirts, and hats and glasses. It was like watching fire flies get jiggy with it.

It was like Tron 2. But interesting. And sexy.

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"

Night of the Living Dead

Some jackass got so zombie drunk that we couldn't let him back in the bar. When his buddies couldn't get him into a cab Nick, one of our bigger door men helped wrestle the guy into one. An hour later we kicked some other dude out for something or other. That's when zombie drunk guy came back.

These two mental midgets decided they didn't like one another. Zombie took off his jacket and flexing his baby gap muscles. Genius 2 was making fun of Zombie's neck tattoo. I got between them and held our stringy zombie gangster at bay. A strong wind would have knocked him over on his best day, and today was not even close to his best day.

After while a cop happened to walk by and looked the kid. "Hey, get in a cab or go to jail."
"Ohh, you think you're so fucking tough, fucking cop!" the kid slurred.
"Nope, but you need to leave"
"Oh, what are you gonna do, you can't do shit" the kid informed the cop, arms out like Michael Flatley.
"Ok," the cop replied.
I was standing not far off (Like this big cop needed back up) and couldn't help but laugh as this kid kept trying to put the cop down, and the cop kept letting him talk, making the kid more and more angry. A second cop arrived so I took my leave.

Nick and I were standing by the door a few minutes later when Zombie kid decided to take things a little too far. He head faked one of the cops and cocked his fist back. He got straight armed to the face by one cop as another tackled him. He was face down on the sidewalk with both hands behind his back  in a heartbeat, shivering like an idiot in his tiny little wife beater.

Had he just gotten in the cab he would have woken up with a hang over. But now he's going to wake up in a cell. He'll be charged for possession of whatever drugs the cops found on him, and for assaulting and officer, and public intoxication.

But hey, he sure told that cop didn't he!?

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

The Return Of the Jedi

To date, not a single person who swore they'd never be back to the bar again has managed to stay away. I can't think of a single one who hasn't come back.

The Boys of Brazil

Andrew threw a guy out tonight. Apparently he had been grinding up against our Bar Assistant. He was a little brazilian dude. The grinder, not the BA. He's a little white dude. Grinder asked me if he could go back and get his jacket. The guy wasn't a fighter or a trouble maker by any means, he just had a proclivity towards rubbing his genitals against our young bottle washer. I asked him where it was and he had no idea. We went inside to look. We spoke to his friends and they didn't know. "Why does he have to leave?" "He's too drunk" I half lied. I mean, he must have been pretty drunk to have the balls to rub his balls up against our bar assistant. Right?

We were cutting through the dance floor when some dude reached up and slapped Grinder in the back of the head. I turned and gave him the "What the fuck??" look. You know, slighty angry, shoulders raised, arms out, palms up...that look. Slappy said something I didn't understand, so I turned my attention back to our horny brazilian. That's when I got shoved from behind. I turned around and here's slappy look at me with a big, I just got away with something, whatchu gonna do 'bout it grin.

I grabbed his arm spun him around and got him to the door. Once there, Andrew and Ty  grabbed him and tried to push him out. He grabbed the door. I had to peel his fingers off the door handle to get him to let go. The way the night was going he's lucky one of us didn't punch him in the mouth. Not that that is an acceptable means of removing a small brazilian man from a door, but, these things happen in such a way sometimes. Meanwhile, there's a ball rubbing brazilian loose in our bar, and I don't know where the BA is. Thank God they didn't play YMCA just then. I hear it's fun to play there.

Finally I found Grinder and he still can't find his jacket. He keeps explaining that once he finds it he'll leave. I keep explaining "Find it" Finally, just as I'm getting tired of the whole thing, he bolts out of the bar, I ran after him but he just kept on running, right up the street, waving his hands over his head, almost skipping. He ran up the main road till I couldn't see him anymore.

Now the other guy is arguing with Ty. Ty is telling him to leave. The guy comes over and starts shaking his finger in my face, asking why I kicked him out. I pushed his hands down and pushed him back from my personal space. My personal space is now about a 6 foot bubble in any direction. I explained that he can't touch the staff. Ever. Never ever. And he certainly can't shove me. That's a cardinal sin. He started protesting that he didn't, his english is really bad, turns out he's brazilian too and his ball rubbing buddy is his brother. This circular argument went on until finally I flagged down a cop walking by and asked them to explain it to him.  Cops are great at this. They can arrest you. They don't care what happened. Whoever is being the biggest jackass at the time goes, one way or another. They explained and he got into a cab. But then he got out when the cops left and headed back towards us. Ty's giving me that, "Come on...please let me punch a little brazilian in the face look". Fortunately one of Slappy's buddies came out and walked him away rather forcefully. Perfect, problem solved.

Three hours later, after we've dealt with a bar clearing brawl, with tensions high, this guy came back to plead his case. Again. He was pointing at me through the glass and yammering away in what I could only guess is Portuguese. Grinder was there, all smiles, dancing around like the happiest fucking marionette, and some of their other friends. A pack of brazilians. Great. Brazilians are know to be pretty handy fighters, even their flaming marionettes can apply a flying arm bar when necessary. Fortunatly these guys were more lovers than fighters.  One of the buddies came over when I opened the door to explain in broken english that there was no trouble, that it was all good, while his other friends tried to pull slappy away. Grinder was oblivious to all of this, really just happy to be there.

Eventually they all left and I could finally relax and reflect upon the night. Did we really have to kick out a small brazilian man for grinding up against our BA? Go figure.

Police Story

Tonight a girl I haven't seen in a while came in. We used to be friends. New Years eve she punched a guy in the face and probably broke his nose. We kicked her out. She came back tonight with some friends for the first time since. She didn't talk to me or look at me, she just walked by, got her stamp and moved on.

Later in the evening I heard she was harassing some really drunk girl. The I heard the really drunk girl was harassing her as well. I told one of the guys to kick out the most drunk of the two. Eventually my friend decided to leave on her own. Perfect.

Later, the other drunk girl came up to me and started to explain that she was undercover, working for the 2 cops that had just done a walk through. She was investigating my old friend and if I could just kick her out the cops would arrest her. I asked drunk girl for her badge.  She walked away.

The "Undercover cop" left a little later. She came back after hours and asked if she could do her walk through. Official police business. I asked her for a warrant. She didn't have one.