A Doormans Blog

Entry Number Thirty Six: Judo Man

2009-02-01T10:26:00.005Z

Money, is a sod. I am back on the doors. Within a month of the big quit story, like a dribbling desperate money craving hound. I am back. I am both disgusted and ashamed of myself. Well, it all started with a new door company in my town. I heard about them, and gave them a call, met two head doormen in town, two days later i was working at a very busy local bar. Dirty rough place... sticky floor. Has its regulars, a bit cliquey early on in the night, later on the hordes of actual children (18+) come flying in to swoop up the insanely cheap drink offers.

The guys i work with Sadash, Eus, and Weez (girl) all seem cool so far. Eus is the oldest and seems like a typical happy go lucky cockney sort. The sort that should get annoying but is actually entertaining and makes the clock tick a bit quicker. The friday night was busy, pound a drink. Hordes of attractive girls in tight clothes falling over them selves to throw I.D. in our faces.

One pale skinned thing who looked about 14 actually couldn't name the full name on the passport she had borrowed, she didn't even bother to learn it!

"Ok whats the name on here" I asked her, the photo obviously not matching.

She gave me the first and last name, but her tiny head couldn't rotate the cogs to spark her feeble memory to jolt the middle name out of her lips. After many uncomfortable glances and a few awkward exchanges she conceded...

"this isn't your id is it love" I asked her.

She looked up...

"Ok i won't bother then"

No you dippy moo, you will not.

The rest of the night was just a rush, there was no trouble surprisingly. Think we lead out two or so kids, that was it. The venue is like a large open pub. Dancefloor in the far right corner as you enter. The toilets are the worst i have inhaled. Simply atrocious, seriously disgusting. My fear was something kicking off in here, and me having to get thrown into the shallow pool of piss and drink on the floor. Simply puke inducing. Night ended ok though. I was back in it. Back in the mess of it.

Saturday was a lot more messy, even thought tonight wasn't cheap drinks... it was more busy. Christ above only knows why, but it was more busy, more people. We had a few throw outs, one prat on a table dancing, who accepted his defeat so easily when i led him out, i think that was his sole aim for the night, being dragged out by a doorman. Good man, he can "facebook status" that one tommorow. Twerp.

Golf hat boy thought it would be fun to keep putting his hat on after i gave him two polite warnings. He put it on his head for a third time, just to take a picture he told me. Good, thats nice. I swiped the beer off him and led him out. I was polite giving him a second chance, he tried some kind of gesture, i think it was a swing for me. By then Eus was behind me with him and he was out the front door. His dopey looking bunch of rag tag golfing buddies protested something or other, they could go to if they wanted. This polite invitation zipped their traps.

A woman in her late twenties came up to me, thin but pretty looking like Posh Beckham and said

"I'm not trying to cause trouble but that guy over there is pissed and throwing his beer around"

I looked through the bodies and saw a red faced chubby gent with curly ginger hair, clearly intoxicated. I approached him out after waving the team over, just in case we needed to put a few more hands on his girth. He seemed to want to make some kind of issue as i was leading him toward the door. As soon as Eus put his hand on him though, he got violent. His podgy arms swang about like a trapped pigs trotters, but me and Bruce combined are a good weight. The laws of physics tell us it will be difficult for him to restrain. It t'was sir. He threw the door against me on his way out which clouted the side of my head and clipped my hooter. He then screamed at Eus the usual default, I'm so embarrassed i got thrown out the bar obscenities, and it was all over.

However the old boy near the beginning of the night was the best. And a lesson to put in my doormans notebook. I saw Sadash and Eus talking to an old boy with a white tash and hair who must have been in his early sixties, late fifties at least. He was punching the air with a fist and the pint in his other hand was splashing wildly. His face told the stories of many years of alcohol abuse, wives and probably wars. His friend near him was holding a stool right above his head, some kind of play game possibly his son. Stool boy was in his late thirties. I took the stool from him, plonked it down and then approached grandpa.

Eus said to me

"easy, just talk him down"

This was before i even uttered a word. I think Eus saw in my eyes i was quite ready to lead the old boy out. However on my approach the skinny old gent turned toward his empty pint glass. Apologies, but i'm not going to have my face glassed. Erm, if thats ok?

I put a hand on his back to lead him out, and he made it difficult. He wasn't going anywhere. He was shorter and more wiry than me, but he had been thrown out of many a pub in his time. Bruce took one arm, i took the other, but the old codger, LEG LOCKED ME with one leg. This quite effectively inhibited my movement. He basically wrapped his right leg, around my left leg while we were standing. A clever little trick. I kicked out of it, and we led him out with as much respect as is possible when leading out a drunk violent oap.

"I will fucking take you one on one now" He pointed toward me.

It was a sorry sight. This man was the same age as my old man, and out of sheer respect i couldn't fight him. I didn't even swear at him back. He stood at the door, attempting to LOOK like he was running back in for me, but conveniently being stopped by his family. And that was done. He was in there when we arrived at seven, so now he is obviously barred, if he's in next week. It could be interesting getting the old bastard out again. Especially if he bring some scummy family. What a tragic, sorry, and depressing state of affairs it all is.

So, thats it, first weekend back at a new venue done. I proceeded to end the night by getting drunk. Everyone else around me was all night, so why the flip not. In reality i had a few wet beers and went home... :-(

See you next week...

Entry Number Thirty Five: As one door closes, anuva opens... or somfin....innit

2009-01-03T06:12:00.009Z

Tis with regret i end this blog, for now. I haven't updated this sorry thing for over four months now, and after now way over a year on the doors, recent events have ushered me in the direction of politely proclaiming..."f*&k this sh*t" It is over, the dream has ended. So after over a year of documented Doorwork, or Bouncing, from my initial giddy excitement, up until now, was it worth it?

The past four months I've had a blast if you will, with my colleague neville, seriously good times. The bar is never overly busy, no trouble makers, we've only thrown out four or five people in the time of being there, I've learned a hell of a lot about humans, and especially the sticky underworld of my local town. There really has been nothing to document, well there has, I've just been increasingly tired and exhausted working days as well, no time. Even now i sneakily squeeze this typing session into my schedule simply because I've woken up early and thought to myself "Gordon Bennett mate, that old blog malarkey you affa do summink about that innit" So, here i is.

I did a stint at another place for a special one off event, it got hairy there i might add, i remember it well so can make it my last entry...

The bar is small this one, like a mouse box, despite having a fair bit of floor space, its kind of laid out like a large "L" so it's a bit squeezy. The enormous speakers are also so low, that the music feels like someone is rubbing a cheese grater against the thin membrane of your ear drum. It can actually be painful, or, this could be me being an old duffer.

My new last minute team were not the friendliest bunch, i had been plucked out of my usual comfort spot and stuck with them tonight. Someone was off i think. Sometimes this can be a good thing though, as it's very easy to get comfortable at a nice little joint. Then get comfortable, get smacked in nose. Understand boss?? So this was good for me...

I nodded toward the miserable sods, and was plonked inside at a back door, preventing smokers from coming back in through the back. They can leave that way, but not come back in the same door. Fair enough, stops random bods walking in off the street who haven't paid at the main entrance.

I knew a few people who were at the club, they stood speaking to me for most of the night so it wasn't too bad, once again this was in my town, a club I'd been to on many occasions so it was all good. So all's well, next thing i see a group of young black girls zip up the stairs to the toilets. Now i was handed no radio, no security procedure for this particular team, no nothing. I bumped through the crowd and darted up the stairs after them.

In the small hallway one end was the ladies bogs entrance, the other the dudes. In the middle, is the top of the stair way. I stood here between a group of about seven youts rowing, one side trying to swing for the other, they were in their early twenties. Some girl didn't know who the other girl was. This wasn't a general statement, i mean more along the lines of...

"That b*tch don't know who i am yeh? She don't know who i am, who she's f**kind wiv yeh? "

The other side to my left are trying to push toward their opponents on my right, and once again I'm sandwiched in the middle. I tend to see this as my general style. I get in the middle of the sh*t and try and stop it, speak everyone down. It has worked for me for over a year so. After protests not to throw one of the little girls out, and the other party heading back down stairs...i kept them separate, bear in mind i couldn't call for anyone at this time, I'm upstairs in the toilet area, if someone had have pushed me down and gone for the other side, i couldn't have done anything, no one came to my rescue either.

The girl much more chilled out, later came to me, took me aside and explained her actions and anger, it turned out, the other girl didn't actually know who she was. Apparently some silly old moo gave her an offensive glance at the hand dryer. And then after the said questioning "excuse me, does one know me?" it got ugly. I kept the girl and her mates in one section, if they refused to stay there, i would throw her out by the back of her neck like a Christmas day turkey. They behaved, no bastard wants to get lobbed out at the end of the day, this bar is far from free to get in. Still, worth noting i had no one to help me here, the rest of the door staff were out the front, chatting, chilling out, also the club was packed, i forgot to mention.

Later on in the night i had the honor of the pat downs, by now it was really filling, to the point of one in one out. It was a black night, the small sardine can of a club was host to loads of shiny sweaty black faces, and the incoming lot were looking right dodge, this was why we had to do the full pat down searches.

I remember seeing some six foot five fu**er, muscle head, dark as coal with tight cane rows on his head earlier in the night sulking about. Thinking to myself, if anyone kicks off tonight, please let it not be that enormous bastard.

It was that very same enormous bastard who kicked off...

I remember standing in the cloakroom section, and looking through the glass doors into the actual main dance floor to see his enormous back swinging at someone, i did my usual "fish hook" i pushed through the doors, and grabbed him by the waist and pulled him back, he didn't put up too much resistance, he knew the night was over, one of my colleagues who later turned out to be pretty safe, helped me drag the hefty lump out. Just as we got to the front door someone pushed their way IN, toward the black hulk. He apparently knew them and whop, gave them an almighty clout in the chops. The lanky mixed race lad went flat on his back nose split, a chorus of claret bursting forth from his hooter and actually clonked his skull on the pavement, i remember being particularly disturbed at his drop.

He got back up, beckoned the big guy to the street all the while don't forget this huge c**t was struggling with me and my colleague we got him out, but he wasn't gunning for us, he wanted who ever he knocked down. Outside he picked up one of the billboard signs for the club to throw, no no way, lets not be silly, i put a stop to that. He actually interestingly enough seemed quite reluctant to go for the guy who was beckoning him, i think the initial strike was a lucky thrown hit. Just because a lot of these guys are enormous, it don't mean they're fighters...

The police later arrived, larger black crowds gathered outside, we had to refuse to let people out by order of our manager because of the danger outside, not sure if this was kidnapping or something? Not too concerned as long as i gets my money lol (which i actually didn't not in full anyway - another story that)

I later got thanked the next day when i saw one of the door staff shopping for his groceries...

"thanks for helping out last night mate"

This was nice, although that is my job. I also remember the team being particularly short. Like munchkins. I'm not the tallest doorman, I'm 5'11 and they were all way shorter than me. But they did get stuck in with the action at the end of the night, so i can't really fault them although they let me deal with the crowd in the bogs on my own so i CAN fault them, and i WILL...he said to the king.

So my final review on door work. It kept my head above water financially, just enough to live barely, but in no way was i raking in the 18 and 20 pounds an hour, and other such wildly over generous figures that where dancing around in my head in the early days. The last half a year of my door work, longer actually, was based in my local town, so i will say this, doing this lark gives you a lot more recognition, mainly because I've now worked every seedy joint, cummy chaired club, and stinking sh*t pit in my town. Right up to the nice new bars n all that. So it's given me minor celebrity baby, oh yeeah.

It has been an interesting journey, as i sheath my sword into my proud leather casing, mop my brow and walk off into the distance. I found to be honest, most of the time if you don't talk to people like a pric* they stop acting like one, this is what i have found. I've never been directly swung for to my knowledge I've been clonked one though, a fair few times, elbowed, punched in ribs but its always been sneaky shots when im in the middle of a mass of fighting or rolling around on the floor scrapping. Bin thrown across a club as well.

Actually i did get hit once, but it wasn't hard, was kind of indirect, i dragged the bastard out with my boss. I don't need to stand there and get into a boxing match, don't get payed enough, and I'm not hard enough to scrap every plonker i come across f**k that, most of the time I'm on ten quid an hour, hardly worth it. Almost been bottled a few times, got involved in a mass scrap with Asians in one of my first nights on the doors. Helped my colleague Neville out when he got jumped by two former Asian doorman recently, i wasn't even working that night and got in the middle of it ugly that night. In fact did i ever document that? Not sure.

It's been interesting, it has but for the most part if you can handle yourself just in case (Krav Maga Fighting Lessons twice a week) then you're confident enough not to feel the need to have to box and smack up every idiot you come across. Chat to them like a mate, resolve it, be the bigger man and all that, and you get to walk home without a knife in your head, and with both of your eyeballs actually intact, that's how i've survived and i have wokred at a lot of rough clubs in my year, and I'm glad i did, I've done it you know? been a doorman, but all this, "been in the game for 37 years mate" I'm sorry? are you actually fking mad? nope... fucking sad.

I never planned to go over the three years of my license as soon as i found out you dont get the 18 and 20 pounds an hour i initially thought. So, in the end, was it all worth it? Hmmmm Yeah, it's fleshed me out as an individual, it's expierience and i reckon I'll be back doing it at some point in the future when the finances are squeezing my nuts. But due to pay disputes I'm no longer working at my regular, and think to myself let's see where else my life can go while I've got a chance to get out intact, no point in tempting fate...

Although i did get a text from my boss who i left, got it this very night "we need to talk mate"...

...so who knows.

Cheers for reading (I'll be back)

Entry Number Thirty Four: Ain't you fellas meant to er...protect us?

2008-09-25T03:14:00.004+01:00

How long will the peace last? Forever i pray. I've done about two nights on my own at this place now, and so far so good. The nights I'm joined by Neville are Friday and Saturday, and there's more excitement and drama on the stage the good lords placed in front of us, that's the town centre, then inside our actual venue. Just the way it should be. We've seen of course, fights kick off outside fast food shops, we've seen the usual all singing all dancing clan of regular nutters we're now accustomed to. Actually greeting them like old friends. One incident i think will forever remain with me, and just in case it decides to fade away into the vast cavern of my empty ageing brain, i will document!

To the right of our front door across the road a stocky skinhead screams down his phone, some poor female on the receiving end of the torrent I'm guessing. His anger raises, and his protests get louder. He's had enough, he smashes his balled fist against the chicken shop window. The shop was closed, in fact, it's a new venue being built. Sky blue paint on the outside still fresh. Again he smashes a fist. Me and Neville watch, as two Police tentatively approach. Visibly looking scared. Yes, written correctly and read correctly, visibly looking SCARED.

"This old boy's getting hauled off" I say to Neville, almost trying to convince myself what i know inside is going to happen, isn't going to happen.

The Police almost apologetically walk up to the vexed gent, mutter some words, and walk off! Well, first of all, this is a display of aggression in public, the dude in questions face was as pink as a fine floral display. His voice louder than Satan's, and he's punching a shop window, and it's in the centre of town, loads of innocent ravers milling around. Nope, perhaps there's more to this than our critical eyeballs can assess, we go back to our perch on our doorstep and continue...

But not before we hear another loud smash, Mr angry is now whacking away again on the poor shops quivering window. The two PC Plod's who tried to make their hasty escape, stopped in their tracks, looked back, and actually...decided to LEAVE HIM TO IT. It seemed this embarrassing display of public protection even irked the said loon, as he proceeded to follow the police up the road, overtaking them at one point and mocking the poor couple. A more sorry sight, i don't think I've ever seen. Not since the old man in his sixties, pain, loneliness and sheer suicide written over his grey bearded face, carting a gigantic trolley with what looked like his entire belongings crammed inside it, wheeled past last week. Right down the middle of the road.

The Police though, on this occasion, were fucking embarrassing. It's probably best not to be a copper if you're scared of angry people. That seems like a simple enough assessment of any future career choice in public service. Sheeeeesh.

A few weekends ago the drunk parent was on the loose again, wheeling his son around in a buggy, can of scrumpy jack in the other. Bear in mind this is about eleven at night. At one point some kind of grubby associate of the dad took the buggy off him, and trundled past us, vision clouded by his blinding haze of alcohol. This was too much, i radioed CCTV to actually do something about this, get a local police unit who perhaps weren't going to piss their panties and actually sort the situation out. They assured me they were "monitoring the situation"

It was only minutes earlier up the street the intoxicated father was screaming at two men that "I've got a son you f**king c*nt, I'm with my f**king son" then proceeding to neck a good amount of cider, and stagger off up the road. What a truly sad bastard.

There was also a big group brawl near the same chicken shop Mr angry was whacking away at, about a week ago. The club up the street from us radioed of a disturbance heading in our direction, to CCTV. Our senses pricked, and we peered in the direction, waiting.

A motley crew of teens to early twenty types gathered, voices raised, everyone got more and more excited, you know what's coming next. CLOCK!!! The tallest and loudest of the mob, a smartly dressed mixrace fella, with tight curls threw a fast jab into the mass, and a short skinhead type staggered back, clutching the side of his head. Strangely enough a female buzzing around the edges of the goings on, broke out into laughter. Making the whole scene rather strange. Then he threw another fist, landing square on another unfortunate receivers conk. Which opened up within seconds to a river of dark red juice.

Next thing i remember is someone being on the floor and one guy really laying the boot in, enough was enough, i was about to hand Neville the CCTV radio and do my usual "pluck the fighter out, don't get hit" routine but a brave Taxi Marshall piled in and saved me the effort. By which time the big Police van had arrived, and a female copper and her mate had ran in also. The Police in the van were all visibly shaking and actually refused to get out. Poor sods...

not true that bit...

Some loud banging and smashing from within the meat wagon and that was that. Zip to tonight, it's my Thursday to man the doors alone again. Which it's looking like it could be a regular thing on Thursdays. No matter how quiet my bar is, this is a very risky position to take, anything could happen i would not be equipped to deal with on my own. But my finances are struggling and so the mountain must continue to be traversed. I am not actually sure if it's legal me being on my own?? Ah well...

I always said after a Year i wouldn't feel bad leaving the game, i could say "I've been a doorman for a year" kind of thing. At the moment, being 100% truthful, i quite enjoy my little bar, and working with Neville is a blast, but when things are good, that normally means the beady fingers of fate will play puppet master and tug a few strings, bringing some serious mess my way. Am i prepared for it, especially on my own? I like to think so...we'll see...

Entry Number Thirty Three: The Wine Bar Darling

2008-09-04T02:23:00.005+01:00

Ok, the Big Giant Catch up...

What kind of shocking display of a doorman's documentary is this. I don't know, is the simple and honest answer. Truth is, im surprised how little time i have to keep note of the goings on, plus, i now work at a chilled out up market bar kinda thingy. All nice n chilled out. We haven't had one incident yet, besides "asking" a rather happy chappy who was doing multiple handstands to kindly leave our establishment. I'd been taking a few more fight classes, and learning some new holds i was interesting in trying out but since no longer being at the other place (yeh i'm gone from the rough rough place), i haven't had to face the unpleasant prospect of fighting ex bouncers about twelve on one (me) every night, no lie. It is a relief to have things on equal grounds again. It is a relief to not be concerned about actually dying when you leave for work.

Right, its been a good what two months since I've written anything, and it's coming up to now being an actual whole year on the doors right? When that time arrives i shall put on my frayed thinking specs and reflect. However, I've got some catching up to document. Luckily, at the end of most nights at the old place, i jotted down some words quickly in a rough bullet style format. Just hooks within which to catch the dotted memories fresh from my head, when i will later be needed to recall them, like now...

So let's rewind back about two months, until we get back to this point. Strapped into the Time Module my good sir? Jolly good, let's begin!...

Friday June 27th

The usual excitement, that i now miss was taking place at the club, music blaring, after the standard flirting with the ticket girl. Pretty girl. It became apparent to me, that tonight was going to be a night for me to take a stand for my race, to fight oppression of Black people the world over, one fist raised high like Barack Obama has never actually done. The Malcolm X Tattoo on my forearm looking up at me, winking.

Two Black boys approached, young faces, one with tight braids. It was me and my experienced colleague on the door, the Asian one, who has been there a good few years now. He sliced through the uncomfortable air that surrounded them quite swiftly with these puncturing words.

"You're not coming in tonight boys"

Their faces dropped with mock surprise.

"We ain't done nothing mate, ah come on" They protested.

"This is my venue, and i say you're not coming in"

They put up a pretty feeble fight, one was brave enough to use the race card, the response from my colleague, rightly so was as follows.

"My Colleague is Black and my boss (Yavin) is black" He paused, waiting for their next darts back. Nothing.

They protested some more, with the strength of a plastic bag, then they plodded on their merry way. The next young fella was a little more brave. After refusing him entry, i don't remember specifically why, or why we let him back in. But my brain has etched into its wall the sight of him mumbling some words along the lines of...

"Ok ok ok, right, i'll show you something"

It was at this point, he walked back to the parked car he pulled up in, a long Grey thing, blacked out windows. A few lanky Brothers perched on the bonnet, openly smoking something they shouldn't be. Wreck less. Young James Deans. He actually went to the boot, hid behind the side of the car out of our view, as if he was setting something up, or constructing something, this is how i recall it, and then he EMERGED! Now, my colleague didn't seem to fret this, he just simply whipped out the giant Metal Detecting wand and waved it up and down him, as if casting some odd spell over the boy. Nothing. We let him in. His walk crippled with a swagger so big he could have fell over with any kind of light contact. I'm not sure why we let him back in, or why we refused him entry in the first place, maybe a cap i think, but we did let him back in. We should have been more careful with that one i think.he could have actually shot one of us on the spot, and you never, EVER want that to happen.

Saturday June 28TH

The next incident is the one which got me sacked from the place, a shame as the hours and money were good. However, i now have a partial social life back and don't have to worry about things like my eyeballs or neck being stabbed with a smashed bottle etc. Anyway, here's how it went down, i remember this crystal clear...

There's a scuffle at the end of the bar, the usual group of Asians are in there, i don't know exactly what going on, but it's big, there's about twelve Asians and something is kicking off. I see a woman going hell for leather with fists at some taller dude, part of the crew. Instant ejection right? I run in to grab her, and take her out, next thing i know i'm being pulled back by an Ex Doorman who used to work there, part of the crew of Asians in the middle of the scuffle. My pride punctured like a big over inflated trye, i rush back in. My collegue, the one i was a bit closer with shouted

"leave it leave it"

I was told by two senior members on the door here, when there is a kick off and a big group are involved, leave it, just get the main people around them to safety, which is what i was attempting to heroically do by plucking the woman from within the middle of the scuff. The mess got louder, drinks flew, and voices were raised to a level where they were clearly audible above the music.

Me and my colleague saw one of the newer doormen rush in, to do the same thing i did, try and save this woman who was back in the middle, attacking this unfortunate man. I assume it was actually some kind of domestic, and boyfriends etc were matching up with boyfriends or something. Either way it was a big disturbance, and i thought my colleague was doing the right thing, the same thing i did. There about twelve hyped up, buzzing off the various steroid chemical combination's flying through their blood, Asians jumping about. All trying to be badder than the next man. My approach was let em scrap and pluck out any dudes on the edge of the moving body of fists feet, and bottles.

Anyway, my colleague, a Polish guy a little shorter than me, battle worn face, always sulking, rushed in to get the woman again, except someone within the fray was a lot more brave when it came to him, and they clocked him on the ear with a juicy right. The sound i still remember, it was painful. Like a slab of meat getting hit with a metal pole. Or the kind of sound you'd hear if you dropped a chicken ready to cook from your fridge, straight onto the floor. Almost juicy. He took it well, no problem, but my Asian colleague made the big mistake of holding the Polish doorman back! And eventually pushing him out of the venue!!!

I see what my colleague was trying to do, keep the Polish doorman at safety. Out of the firing line, as he had told me to do. But the visible act of dragging him off, undermined our authority as doormen, and to cut this whole sorry spectacle short, i will just say we were kindly asked not to return after that night.

I remember at the end of the night, as the glass collectors were picking up the final discarded VK's and mopping up the sick from the floor with gusto, like victorian schoolchildren, or some kind of scene from Oliver. We all had a reflection on what had happened in the CCTV room downstairs. Note this was before i knew i was sacked. I said the thing which i think put the nail in my coffin right there. But i was just being honest. I remember my exact words...

"I'm sorry, if there's twelve juiced up ex-doormen fighting, I'm not jumping in there" This is the advice I've been given since I've been doing the doors, by almost everyone, and as soon as i follow it, i get the boot. Funny thing was, i did get in there!!! I actually dived in headfirst to pluck the girl out of whatever was mess was going on.

The thing is, there are serious problems with that place, due to certain people letting certain groups in, be they friends or whatever. This creates an atmosphere where some people think, its ok to parade around the joint, like it's theirs. They are above the doormen. That's fine if it's one or two people, but it's a regular group, it's still going on there, and the problem is getting worse at that place. I think it was maybe a calling from GOD i got sacked. Or just an extremely handy, and life saving coincidence but no good could have come of continuing to work in that kind of place. Besides the long hours, and even then i had money problems. As in, me actually gettign my money problems. I must say though the few months i was there was excellent door training, and i won't lie, i do miss it. The place had a non stop buzz about it, it was always heaving with excited teenagers something was always popping off. Every doorman needs to work a venue like this at least once.

Only a few months ago some psychopath went mad with a poor innocent chair throwing it all over the place, a known hard nut. It's a dangerous place to work, the only way i see how some have survived there for so long, is being safe. Like i tried to. Even some people who work there who i thought were willing to jump in and get their noses pushed sideways with a elbow, fist or shining forehead, were not so willing to do so. Everyone just tryed to stay safe at that place, do their jobs, and go home to see their kids, like me...anyway, with that another chapter of my door work ends. Lessons noted.

-----

After that place, for a few weekends i worked at a now closed down Indie Club. venue inside was gorgeous, really well laid out, and multiple rooms, only two were open though. The owners bought the place, changed what was a very popular nightclub, into some depressing Goth-Fest. It didn't do well after a few months and shut down a week after i left. Saying that, i didn't have one problem there at all. The people were friendly, all polite, and just seemed like they wanted to hide away from the demons that walked the Friday and Saturday night streets, i don't blame em. The girlies that worked there were friendly, and it was a breeze of a job. A refreshing lukewarm shower, that's just prickling your skin after a burning day. Proper relaxing gig that was. I worked with big Nick there again, the guy who i stood in the middle of the Asian mob with a while back.

-----.

Cut to now, i currently work at a very nice wine bar, and it's brand newly opened as well. So, just like way back, when i worked at the other venue from it's launch night. I once again have my foot in first at a venue. Touch my wood, we've had no problems here so far. A lot of money has been spent on this fine establishment, and the type of people we are looking for are the over 25's, with a bit of money to throw at the beaming barstaff. Interestingly, we have full control over who comes in, and who doesn't, which is nice, and a relief. For the most part, if someone looks dodgy, be they well dressed or not, we will cut their hopes, dreams and aspirations of entry down, with one foul swish of the sword. Over. Not coming in...

There's even a small upstairs. The wood shines with the fresh wash of Brand New-ness, the leather sofas and general straight out of the wrapping aroma of the furnishing is a sight to behold. Feel a bit proud the place has been entrusted to me and my colleagues. I work with two guys. One called Neville, and another Nigel. Neville is a short podgy but stocky white dude in his late thirties. A prickly ginger goaty hiding the bottom half of his features. And Neville is a black dude in his forties, a little shorter than me, but with a whole wealth of various martial arts experience apparently. We all spend our time eyeing up the delicious females that strut past. It's almost a personal perv fashion show. All shapes and sizes. The part of town the bar is located at is a ripe spot. Loads of buzzing activity right on our doorstep, and we're never short of a bubbly young blonde thing to stop in her tracks and have a chinwag to.

We now know a whole host of regular characters who twitch, plod, handstand and trudge past our doors. The smiling Rastafarian with long Grey dreadlocks who's words have no separation. He speaks in one long sentence with no full stops. Words slowly crushed together, until they overlap. The Jewish man who once again, speaks a language none of us have ever come across. Long beard hides his chattering anger. He occasionally barks loud obscenities, so i think he's one of those tourettes. The couple who dudder along holding enormous cans of Economy cider, pushing a buggy with a innocent blonde face peering out into the cruel world. Both so rat assed, they are completely oblivious to the pure shocked disgust on everyone's face as they pass them. A whole world of regulars come out on the Thursday Friday and Saturday night...no doubt more will make my future entries...and we always see them...

So, just to get me back into the swing of things, i will document Friday and Saturday... who knows... it might even all kick off? And as i type this, i just got a text from my boss saying im needed Thursday... oh, there's only one person manning the doors on a Thursday. That would be me.

Hope you all enjoyed the catch up, let the madness continue!

Entry Number Thirty Two: Nobs

2008-06-24T05:10:00.004+01:00

(Saturday June 14th)

There's now a problem brewing. There's a group of lads who really want to make the club their own, I'd say they total in about ten or twelve, and they're always at the top bar sulking about like the world owes them something. Making a racket, and acting really unsociable. I do not approve at all, no no no. They are friends of, or connected to my door colleague who we'll call Deli. So they seem to be given a little leeway where they shouldn't be. I'm old school, I'd have them out by their actual ear, and ban the fuckers... But it's not my club, I'm the new boy. So...

Soon enough, as the night went on, again at the bottom bar, My eyes were peering over the mass of bodies as usual when there was a scuffle, and the scuffle turned into something bigger, by now a large group was formed, my main memories of this night was a short fat Asian dude zipping from doorman to doorman, trying to save his mate from being lobbed out by saying

"don't worry, chill out, he'll be ok" etc

The thing is, we didn't even know who his mate was. There was just a moving lump of shouting Asian faces on one side, and what seemed like a few white blokes on the other. The Asians outnumbered them like, twice over. It really didn't look good.

All the time while I'm in the middle of this, my brain kind of switches to another mode. Its almost like I'm detached from the reality, and i just focus on making sure no fighting or scuffling happens. The bright bar, the dancing, the faces looking on, the music. Its all there but secondary. I don't provoke people, I'm not trying to get people to fight, I'm not trying to fight, i just almost fall out of myself and let another version of me take over, the version unaware of how fucking dangerous this job really is.

Me and my very tall, very big colleague Nick simply stood in between them all, there was nothing we could do. Apparently someone had slapped someone Else's girlfriend, or something. It all boiled down to the usual, the cocksuckers had to ruin the fun for everyone else. Nobs.

The situation here was frustrating however, as we couldn't throw anyone out, all we could do was stand in the middle of this heated exchange between the two groups. If we threw one person out, the whole place would erupt, the groups were waiting for a ruck, all standing there, tense, taut like springs, ready to shoot off. Facing each other like two Samurai armies about to clash. Me and big nick simply had to stand between the groups to cool the situation down, it worked, eventually. I think they all took it outside to tear each other into minced beef... which I'm more than happy with. Here, I'll even add the seasoning, but not inside.

I remember one person from one group got a bit to close to the other person, and i had to intervene, gripping up one guy and holding him back. I got covered in some dark alcoholic beverage for my efforts. But within seconds the cold wash of the drink on my hands was forgotten, back to being the human wall with Nick. Literally.

Eventually it got to the point where one of the senior members of door staff asked the DJ to actually change the music, the high temp dance hall and hip hop was too much, getting the prick heads to amped. So in turn every one Else's enjoyment had to be effected. I'm not happy about this situation, the same lot, we keep letting in, the same shit, keeps happening.

There will be a giant showdown soon with the doormen and this group, and me...Mr c*nt will be right in the middle, eyes darting left to right like a rabbit in headlights, frozen. Clocks ticking for this...you watch.

Entry Number Thirty One: Mop Boy Cometh

2008-06-21T20:03:00.006+01:00

Friday and Sat (June 7th and 8TH)

Friday - My main memory of this night was Mop Boy! One skinny white dude with dark black hair, Italian looking, on his way out after the club closed, decided to play mr prick, and throw a glass bottle to the floor splashing sticky alco pop all over the wood floor. Just for a laugh. My colleuge was having none of it. He gripped him by his collar, slammed him into the wall with what seemed like the force of Iron Man and screamed at someone to get a mop. He actually told the dude to mop it up! He released the guy from his clench then told me to hold on to him "don't let him go" I stood in front of the spindly looking dude, seeing no need to hold on to him, he wouldn't be brave enough to make a run for it while my colleague went to get a mo...

Whoosh...off he went. Not before i grabbed the fools arm and almost ripped his white jumper. I gripped him up by the arm and he conceded defeat. Eventually my collegue let him go, but only because it was taking so long to get a bloody mop for the poor buffoon. Quite cool tho, demanding someone mop up their own mess. I'm gonna have to give that one a bash one time. "Mop that up BITCH" ...brilliant

Saturday - Was more busy, a barmaid who i once a long time ago tried to "hit on" and got rejected like a stupid bastard, i now work with. Not really as embarrassing as it could be, we don't ever talk about it. We're just both trying to make an honest crust working there right? let it be, let-it-be. I've discovered as well i don't actually like her too...snobby. Anyway, i stood at my usual spot, top of the stairs by the DJ Booth (there are two floors by the way, bottom bar and top bar) I stand on the top bar. She walked out from behind the bar and signalled me over to lead out a tall lanky white dude, skin headed because he had drunk too much, he had, he went without a peep. I thought he might have put up a bit of action, no, he wasn't even thinking to have it. His night was done, he'd drunk himself into a brainless stupor, his mission succeeded.

I later saw behind me two girls shouting at each other, i looked at the body language and movement, studying, like an advanced model terminator and came to the conclusion they were friends having a heated debate about something. One was quite obviously, a Lesbian, sorry but she was, i later found out...she was. Short, stocky jeans, spiky hair, lumberjack top. Gruff looking. I asked her if everything was cool? She nodded in a "I've got this under control" type of way. So i moved to a position where i could observe discreetly, but it all seemed fine...

Ha...

A girl walked by and she swang for her and missed, Bash, right in there, her ample boobs tucked over my forearm as i almost lifted her out, she was stocky but short, she put up quite a struggle but walked off with the defeated "i know im going anyway" type of plod, as my hand firmly on her back led her to the entrance..BYE BYE... silly bitch.

Back to the top of the stairs, brush my self off, i perch like the eagle observing the scene, everything in order, a member of bar staff short mixed race kid come out and says.

"I think something going to kick off down there"

I looked to where he was pointing, and it did. I saw someone swing for someone else in the middle of the heaving crowd. I pushed through the solid block of young clubbers, knocking drinks and pulled the guy who threw the punch away, straight in there was my boss, scrapping with the other guy, i let the guy i grabbed out, but somewhere along the line i got clipped in the lip, it swelled up a tiny touch, physical, nice, i need more of this if I'm going to get used to working here. It was sorted. Checkmate.

After leading out an older faced Asian guy for mouthing aggressively toward someone, i came back in, out of breath from the previous encounter, to see the same group of Asians again, on the dance floor squaring up, i dashed through the crowd, almost jumping from head to head like Super Mario bouncing on mushrooms. I stood in the middle of them, about four on one side, three on the other. dark blue lights danced over us, and faces looked on. Aggressive shouts and gesturing between the two party's was increasing, someone was about to get smacked or worse. And i was in the middle like PC Flippin Plod. I fumbled desperately for a radio, one arm extended trying to hold one mass body of arguing Asians back, calling over and over "Doorstaff to the dancefloor, Doorstaff to the dancefloor" The radio policy is really really shit here. There's no amber codes, no real attention payed to the radio.

For what felt like a good 60 seconds i was in the middle of this crews disagreement until i heard a pop sound. My hands felt warm, and sure enough, someone had got bottled and splashed their fucking disgusting foul sticky blood all over me. It wasn't an innocent clubber i would have cared for, it was one of this arguing mob. What happened next was a rush of doormen dragging everyone out, me included. Once they were out the door i inspected my Hi Vis jacketand it was decorated with a pretty polka dot blood design. I looked down at my palms which were now a ghastly red paint, and i even felt glass, blood mixing? Nice... after a wash down, i was back out there on the stairs again. After the main dickheads were gone, peace resumed... in short i was a few inches from catching a bottle on my skull, or in my face.

My working saturdays will never, ever be the same again...

Entry Number Thirty: Hired Cheese

2008-06-21T19:54:00.003+01:00

Friday and Sat (May 30th and 31st)

Same rough club again however i have discovered something, i would be a stinking liar if i said, in some bizarre way, deep down, I didn't enjoy actually working for my money. And you do at this place. For the most part I'm stationed on the stairs next to the DJ booth, making sure he gets no trouble, and keeping people off the stairs. This place is just chockablock, eyes darting everywhere every movement. As well as the constant distraction of heavy tunes (this is my spot remember) and knowing most people in there, remember its my town, and my local club.

I spot a scuffle going on, skinny white bloke arguing with some Asian guy, screaming, going at it. Boof, through the thick heavy crowd and i grabbed him by the waist, he slipped out of my grip and i literally pulled him back by one arm as he went to try and take the other lads actual head off. Got a good grip on the dude waist and hauled him out. Right past a group of girls i normally go raving with and through the front door. This was my first real test at this place and it passed fine.

The group of Asians from the other week were back again, and one in particular I'm going to clash with sometime soon. I'm bracing for it. I can just see it coming a mile off. One from the group casually lit up a fag behind me, like, i turned around and saw a ghostly twist of smoke rising in the air. I was thinking, fuck, they really are actually trying it. I led him out, he went without a struggle, so easily in fact, i think he wanted to leave, or made a bet to light it. Whatever, he was gone.

This lot always park up outside the club first with hired Ferrari's etc, it's so corny, but to be fair, the cars are fat. But hired. Whats the point in rolling around in a car like that if it's hired, everyone will know it's hired, so it takes the spark away. Why would someone in a fucking Ferrari pull up outside the roughest club in the town? To just, hang about there, shouldn't they be on a Yacht? Or something...corn balls.

Now compared to where i used to work, theres stuff going on all the time, it's hard to stress how busy this place is, so I've missed out about 100 events, bare in mind this is an eight hour shift. But i have left feeling, somewhere, deep down inside. I enjoyed that. How long I'll be here? I've learnt now in this game theres no guarantee of where you're gonna be, but it's all experience. Next week I'll document right after to keep the events fresh...so sorry, so tired...shifts so long...back soon.

Entry Number Twenty Nine: The Fun Begins...

2008-06-21T19:38:00.002+01:00

(Friday 23rd May)

The chronicler is back, where have i beeeeeeen. Aw, well a lot has happened. Politics, internal problems with my old company. Doormen with a grudge cos they ladies love the man. All stuff i really should have documented for blogging, but with working full time days as well, not having any time, i kinda slipped. Plus never being sure where i am, or where I'm stationed etc. It all got too much, but i now work somewhere new. aGaIN

In a word, the roughest dive in my town. To be fair. It's my regular, no question, my absolute regular.Loads of fights, scuffles. It's where you would dread working as a doorman who values his life. And I'm now working there. The big catch with this place is drinks are pretty much one pound across the board. This attracts like a magnet the scumballs, lowlifes and people like me...who go there regular. The floors sticky, the crowd often violent and aggressive the music hiphop, bashment, garage...you get the picture. If i named my town it would ALL fit into place...

Arriving suited and booted, one doorman i know from drinking there regular said...

"First time I've seen you sober mate"

And to be fair it probably was, i asked to meet Yavin, a stocky Black dude same height as me just under six, and long dreads. I'd been speaking to him the previous week about work, but decided to have a well deserved weekend off last week. But i had to start sometime, theres no delaying the walk of fire, there's no denying DEATH. So here i was. Yavin was no where to be seen until later on. I walked to the front door, and asked the familiar face when to start work because i was waiting for Yavin.

"Start working now bruv"

So, i whipped on the SIA badge of justice, it beamed bright with truth, freedom and the american way, and the fun began.

Age wise, you're looking at an average of about 20 I'd say, loads of kids. One pound drinks, loads of trouble. First incident was leading two steaming drunk girls out, the manager wanted gone. No problem, this is the kind of stuff i was used to at my regular little quiet bar. "Git out" Gone.

Second a bit more sticky. A tall light skinned black guy, holding a baseball cap refused to scan back in. (theres a system where you have to scan out and in when you go for a fag) He refused to scan in because he never payed to get in in the first place, and the machine would recognise this...fuck you PAY. I screamed at him.

I never, but i did ask him flat out, if he's going to scan or not...he said no, so pushy pushy, outty outty. He was tall so i had to get my positioning right like a sumo, but once i got that anchor attached, goodnight Vienna. He wasn't scuffling, just didn't want to be pushed out. A bald older doorman helped me by grabbing him from behind. He later talked his way back in with the doorman, cool whatever, but this is my first night, and this club expects doormen to be doormen. To be fair, the last bar i worked at was a quiet one for the most part, so coming into the hustle and bustle of the roughest club in town, was a wake up. I had to handle people differently, the talky talky tactic i used for the most part before had to be switched up. Now its more 30% talking and 70% pushing them the mother fuck out of there.

After leading out another kid who was caught smoking in the toilets, i was positioned next to the DJ Booth, and behind me were a group of about eight Asians, getting lary. I knew they were going to kick off, but, i gave them the benefit of the dou... too late. I turn round to see the bald doorman who helped me earlier in the middle of an argument with them, trying to prise someone from between about three big Asian dudes. A younger looking kid, raring up, too much drink, someone had disrespected him. I tried my usual claptrap to chill him out, no, he wasn't having it.

One ignorant slug garbled some kind of "leave him the fuck alone" chat. Yeh mate, suck my bollocks. No need for others to try and pour fuel on the situation. Eventually we dragged him out, his mates still attached, like some kind of odd black and Asian rugby scrum, moving, through the crowd. Near the door, the kid broke free and walked out. Barging a trail of pride and posturing through the captivated clubbers...over, back to the dancing, they're used to this.

Later on in the night, a black guy was lying out the back, eyes rolling in his head, his face displaying a picture of more than simply alcohol, something else was swirling around his blood stream. I got him some water, the manager was already with him, he was really in a bad way, he stared into the moonlight, and looked around with such confusion, later on the police arrived, i went back in for the night.

Bearing in mind, for the past four months I've been working in a pretty quiet bar, in a quiet town. It's a bit of a pitch shift for me, theres no doubt, but the money is good, hours longer. I have decided i eventually want to get out of this lark. But the weekly money, is very sweet. That's all it is. The actual job is mad, crazy, endangering my actual life. This new place will definitely test me as a doorman, it doesn't get no rougher then this. Police are always stationed outside most nights when it's busy. There have been stabbings, shooting, bottlings, i know the place inside out... come on that lottery ticket.

Entry Number Twenty Eight: It's Been A While

2008-06-21T19:22:00.002+01:00

The following was written over two months ago, i now no longer work at this bar or club because of a disagreement with a head doorman, who made it his personal mission to get me out of this venue. I now work at a new club in my local town...but, i wrote this when i was at the other venue, so might as well post it..enjoy...

It's been a while

Shit, actual shit, it has, my main reasons for not posting have been time. I now have none of it. I work five days a week in another Security "type" job. And generally have no time for Xbox, Lovemaking and even breathing i actually have to pencil into my diary. All for the love of money!

I've now been on the doors for coming up to half a year. I remember applying for the license all excited, thinking i could have my days free, wandering the land, more money than my bank account could physically hold. All the riches and bitches i could ever want. Thinking i could make enough money to actually take over the entire world!! I imagined walking the streets and turning the pavement to gold, I'd be so rich. Eighteen pound an hour here, fifteen pound an hour there...

Put 'Bull' and 'Shit' together...

Besides the wildly inaccurate view of the pay i thought I'd be raking in, it hasn't been too bad so far. I've had a few scuffles, and thank the gods nothing more. I'm glad i got a regular spot though, and it's a good venue. Nice friendly white town, over 25's type of bar although 18's the official age.

Which reminds me, last night i saw a very pretty girl I'd spoke to previously who told me she was 21. The doormen had never ID'ed her. She was wearing a flipping "18 Today!!!" Birthday badge. The deceit i felt in my heart bought me to tears on the spot...nearly. Big beaming Anime Japanese cartoon eyes, big breasts and wicked figure. Wow though, too young...eeech.

What else in the one and a half months I've had off writing...

Just getting to know all the faces now at my permanent spot. The bar is doing a really good trade, and is always busy, packed. Even on the quiet nights, the place is literally filled. It's mad. We have very little trouble, because when incidents do pop up, we handle them swift and politely. It's kind of like our unwritten code there,

Last night some 6'5 skinhead from up north kept dropping off. One of the bar staff came over to me with a big grin and told me...

"someones been knocked out"

I plucked my radio from my blazers chest pocket only to see this dude so smashed, he was leaning hunched over the table, arms folded, full on sleeping. I shook him, and this is a good example of how we, or I handle these situations. I told him politely...

"You can't fall asleep again or you're out"

He fell asleep again.

I woke him, and after a bit of innocent protesting, i led him outside for one of my infamous "chats" He was so friendly and like able, but just genuinely tired, i said to him have ten minutes outside in the smokers, chill out, get some air. He protested still. But nothing aggressive, after seven or so minutes i let him back in. He promised so hard, it was almost a plead, that he wouldn't fall asleep again.

To his credit he attempted dancing a bit, a plodding stumble I'd describe it. Hot moves. But mother gravity called him. He sat down and doof, was gone. Now to struggle him out would have been a challenge, he was taller than me and it would have been messy. I called a taller member of my team over just to keep an eye on me in case he got greasy, he didn't and out he want.

Of course I've worked in many venues now, and with lots of different doormen. I know many who would have thrown him through the crowd, knocking tables over, and kicked him out. With an actual BIG BOOT. But for one our establishment is a bit more classy than a grubby nightclub we like to think, and we handle tings in our own way.

I say "we" but there's a few issues. A lot of the door team for many reasons, the same internal politics I'm having issues with, are leaving or being sacked, and we've yet to get a regular solid team of workers. We have about three or four out of seven who are a definite regular team. I personally now know why the staff at the big big club i worked at were for the most part, a bit chilly toward me. It's because when you get someone new, you're not always sure if they have your back in a kick off, and they have their own ideas etc etc.

Last night a what looked like 6'5 Eastern European guy was being shown round by our boss. One of our regulars for reasons i reeeealy shouldn't type, I think has been given the boot. Which is a shame. He was a mate. And chances are new boy will replace him...we've had a whole heap of new staff the past month or so, as we try and get a tight knit group together. It's an annoyance, but not my side of the job to get involved in. As long as i keep getting my cash every week. It's a big thumbs up.

Ok, i will see if i can write regular again, i want to keep this up for a year, then look back. So far, it's been good. Just less money then i was ever expecting. I know for a fact if i knew before i actually applied for my badge the real money you get, i would not have ever applied for it, and been doing something totally different today. But...I'm here, and i will be back....

Thank you, after this last entry at this bar i left because of what i simply like to call internal politics. Head doorman jealous some barmaids wanted the kid? His penis insecurity?? I don't know, i just left before it got worse. I then got in contact with an old number for door work in my town at quite simply, the roughest club in my town, no two ways about it. Not the biggest, but the roughest. So read on as i chronicle the NEW chapter (again) in this door fukin saga init.

Entry Number Twenty Seven: Update

2008-06-21T10:28:00.002+01:00

I'm here!!! And i have been writing the events of whats been going on in the world of sticky floors, sick encrusted toilet bowls, 17yr old girls, and getting thrown to the floor, abuse, violence and working in danger of your actual life every night. Fun....

I'm currently writing up the past few months I've been off into some kind of readable form and will post all them bitches over the next few weeks, until i catch up with the present day. So for fuck fucks fuck sake...don't die on me... The "bouncer documentary" will continue...

PEACE

Entry Number Twenty Six: Big Choices

2008-03-02T10:35:00.007Z

Allll good, no events last night. As i said, after my usual perch, which was quiet, i was zipped off to the biggest club in my town. You feel the difference in "areas" when, as approaching a club you see a roaring great Police van pass you and stop outside of the club entrance your about to work in. As one young man said to me in my local bar "you're working there tonight? 'ope you've got your stab proof vest"

Speaking of police, i forgot to say, the other night, the Sunday last week when i wrote about the football idiots? We actually called the police down, because there was only two of us until later on. And the louts were getting lary, barstaff intimidated etc. They refused to come down! Exact words were. "it wouldn't be safe for us, theres only two of us" Jesus Christ!! there was two of us as well. We can handle ourselves but not against 20 plus football supporters. A real shocking display of pussy from the Po Po there. Or, perhaps not so shocking...

Anyway yeah last night was to be honest quite exciting. Nothing happened major at all. It was just nice to be in the hustle and bustle of a big booming club again. I hadn't been here since new year, so it was nice. Had to keep an eye on a group of beefing girls. One of them, light enough to be white, but mixed race grabbed my arm...

"Oi throw her out, i beg you throw her out. We aint doin nuffin right and she wants it"

I'd just walked through the middle of them. Didn't know what was going on. Bear in mind this wasn't a bar like i normally do, this was a massive club. Blue lights pulsing over hundreds upon hundreds of ravers. A solid mixture of black, Asian and white faces. Probably mostly black, it was Ragga, Hip Hop, and Dancehall night. I spoke breifly to the girls in question. The accused, a skeleton like looking black girl, with big bulbous eyes gave me some attitude. So i decided I'd lob her out first if i had to...but i didn't.

Apparently i missed a "code amber" which is an argument between two people, about to become a fight, getting heated sort of thing. Didn't suprise me as i couldn't hear my radio for shit to be honest. Not used to all that noise, got so settled in my nice bars etc. One lanky eastern European doorman had a moan at me twice telling me to hold my radio, so i will feel if it goes off. Then came over to gloat when i missed a code amber. Stay calm though..but hold on, we're all on the same team. Right?

This is why i don't really like switching from venue to venue, new door team, no sense of team at all. You're the new boy plonked there, and that's it. But a job is a job. Besides a small argument between two lads, which was seperated. Suprisingly, nothing kicked off at all.

I did enjoy it though, time flew, because your eyes are buzzing from head to head, like visual join the dots. And because it's the biggest club in my town, i saw a heap of people i knew. So i was having a chin wag every few minutes anyway.

I got a lovely dance with a girl from my old work who i had "the hots" for, for over a year. First time i actually got to feel the contours of her body, yeah, it felt as good as i imagined it might i can officially report. Shame this was a clothed experience. Something about that suit and that luminous SIA Badge. She would have never danced with me before...

Last night...

More drama drama, so i do my usual stint of working at what it thought was my regular little bar. And then off to the other place i'm now shoved. Now, this place is the biggest club in my town, no question. Not a bar, not a cafe a full fledged, down and dirty nightclub. Sweaty people. Lights. Four enourmous rooms, The whole kit.

I sign in as per usual, and being the new boy on the team smile uncomfortably at the very tight knit doorstaff. To be fair none are unfriendly, they've just all worked at the same venue, for about twenty thousand years, and having a new face bopping around...i dunno. Well, i may not be a new face to that team for much longer...more on that in a bit, first the nights dramas. Let's go.

I was pretty peed off to be plonked on the stairs. The downstairs section of the club is an over 21's area, so the kids have to have a special pass to get through. I was the gatekeeper. The proverbial, troll, on the bridge. I was pretty much doing this all night. Saw loads of girlies i know, as with yesterday, it's my town, and its the biggest club in my town. It goes without saying i'm gonna bump into a host of faces i recognise. Many of those same female faces, "prettied up" Having them run up to me like minature clockwork toys wound up, was an expierience of the most "enjoyable" kind.

Within about half an hour theres a code amber in an upstairs section of the club. I can't understand the polish doormen for the life of me. Add to that thumping music, several thousand people, and crackly radio...a hodgepodge. Code amber means = not a massive emergency but perhaps two people about to scrap or having a little tussle. Head doorman runs out toward me, through the crowd and asks me to follow him quick.

We barge through the masses up a very tight stairwell, this club is like thorpe park. We rush through everyone to excited woops etc. To find a poor girl on her back, in a mock school uniform, in a what seemed like unconcious state. Red lights bathed the whole scene, and worried faces gawped. There were about three doormen on the scene already. This looked to be some kind of epilectic fit or something, but not a fight or scuffle. Everything was in order, and the doorstaff there had it. This drummed into me i need some kind of first aid training. Serious. Back to the stairs for me...

After bumping into some more girly wurlies i knew, and looking directly, uncomfortably at the 6 foot 5 Dulph Lungren like doorman (one who moaded at me yesterday) across the stairs from me, who was guarding the smokers balcony, but not saying a word to me (new boy) there was some hectic frantic shouting over the radio i couldn't make out. Me and the doorman who replaced Dulph Lungren, a short but well build african dude both stood with our radios pinned to our ears. Next thing...poof, off the short dude went. Like someone had released the pent up elastic band that was holding the ol boy back.

I pounded through the crowd after him. The two Polish doormen were tackling a tall stocky guy who was swinging about like a lunatic, he gripped hold of a post to prevent being dragged out, i pulled his hand free and the two guys had this one, they took him down the stairs and out he went gone. Quite exciting...

Mr Incident number three was the most dramatic...cut to me running down the big stairwell type stairs to the entrance (this club is enourmous) to see a skinny dude with an accent, bald head, i will guess polish :-S pinned up against the wall, his eyes bulging like a phycopath. Fuming. I looked outside to see two of the other doorstaff pinning a guy to the floor who was struggling.

The police were already there with a big van parked right at the entrance like the night before. At our request, one copper cuffed and arrested the guy who was pinned to the wall...the copper looked about 14. It was almost embaressing to look at him. It was really uncomfortable. The guy explained in his accent...

"He hit one of girls i was with, so i hit back. I sorry"

Well, you can't say fairer than that really. But laws is laws, and as i write this, he will be chilling out in the nick.

And that was pretty much it, as i said, this club always has incidents. It's got a rep for being rough, but this is the job. If i get to used to things being easy and cushty...

So, the night ends, and we are all called for a meeting. I can't go into detail but in short, and to my suprise, i've been offered full time work at this club! No being carted off to work 50 miles up the motorway, no being dashed here and there. Full time work at a local club. But it's with a new company, and this would mean burning bridges i've made with my current company, who control the majority of the doors in my town. Its a risky choice but to be honest i've already made it. It would be permanent work, guaranteed in one venue. Something i've always wanted.

Now the club is rough, increased risks, but it's the job i'm in...until my music career takes off (hah) This is my line of work...descicions must be made by Monday. I'm not working on that night but there will be a meeting i'll attend...

I will be back tuesday night to type up all the goss.

Entry Number Twenty Five: The Beautiful Game

2008-02-29T19:07:00.005Z

Due to politics, er or whatever, i was taken out of my usual spot, and thrown 50 minutes away to a club elsewhere. Real handy that. The politics is from within. A dispute with one of my superiors, not anyone or staff from where i regularly worked. In short, i wanted the new venue to be my spot, to be my turf. It's just down the road not even ten minutes, i know the people the staff but well...i won't go into this here...in short i got put elsewhere...not happy sir.

However the venue to be fair was fine, popular brand of bar, (or cafe) no problems the whole night. It was a Friday night, so was busy as per usual. Ladies were out in packs, looking good. Scrumptious. Loads of friendly faces. I'd worked here a few times in the past. Three loud polish or Lithuanian guys were bowling about on the main stage area a bit too hard. Waving arms about like an exhausted heavyweight boxer in round 12. Add to the fact i was a little bit pissed off anyway. I just gave em a polite warning to keep it cool, they bumped by accident a girl. Who later came up to me and thanked me for keeping her safe at the end of the night. A tall blonde with a small round angelic face, extremely pretty. I didn't actually know what she was going on about at first, a job is a job is a job, no what i mean? But i got a nice peck on the cheek out of it. You can't grumble at that sir.

Stood outside in the smokers section for a bit. My back was to the street for a while looking inside at proceedings. After being chatted up by a lovely blonde from Leeds who bizarrely took her picture with me, like the Victorian freak. She also took my name for Facebook, alas, I'm still waiting on the add. Very gorgeous.

A guy I'd worked with before at my regular (or so i thought) venue was outside the smokers section doing Taxi Marshalling. Oh, how the oh so horrible memories come rushing back. I'd done taxi marshall at the very spot he was doing it. Never again. It's an open invite to abuse, mocking and it's also quite dangerous. Anyway next thing i hear...

"Officer officer quick!"

My head snaps around to see two Taxi Marshall boys struggling with a hefty guy in his fifties. Apparently he'd head butted one of em. They were trying to restrain him from getting away. The police arrived, sarcastic as usual. And had, what i could have swore, were smirks on their bacon like faces. The area is white, the Marshall who got nutted was Asian, you can kind of guess the rest. If it wasn't for the CCTV they would have taken away the marshall. no doubt about it, you could see it all over their oinking little porky pig faces. But the old boy got nicked in the end though. You can't argue with CC TV. And that was pretty much it for that Friday night.

Saturday (23rd Feb) i was at my venue again no trouble the whole night, all was good, well, despite me hitting on a female member of our door staff who'd just started working with us, and being rejected...there was no problems

However last night, Sunday (24th Feb)...

I started my shift early, arrived about fifteen minutes before, did the usual adjust myself in the toilets mirror spray on some pretty juice. Assa be done sir. It's almost like a mental preparation for the night i do at this venue. Similar to a young rocky preparing for the big slug out. I am mistaken for Sylvester stallone often. Young Sylvester stallone.

I go behind the bar area to get the paper work, and straight away the manager warns me of the football lot who were in. there was a "bite" in the air, you pick it up on the doors I've found. One of the sense organs in the ear that evolves as you do more and more door work. You just feel the tension, the raised voices the way the voices are raised, and you feel it can possibly erupt. It did.

My colleague Sam is a little late, and I'm here on my own, in a bar, with about twenty rowdy supporters, all getting louder and louder. I walk over right through the middle, i always walk through the middle of them, it sounds like a RAMBO FILM but I'm convinced if you show one tiny flicker of weakness with a mob like this, theres always a few who would take advantage and steam in. And to be quite frank about it, fuck actual that....sir.

I asked them to keep it down a bit because of families still in venue. The volume dipped for a few seconds then right back up again.

"Toon army, Toon army" or whatever gay football shit they shout.

It got louder and louder, i walk over again, right through them, and they quietened down a little. Bare in mind I'm still on my own. Eventually, a sight for sore eyes my partner Sam walks in. I give him the heads up. The excited faces in the mob were getting more frenzied, football scarfs around them. The beer was being washed back like the last pints on earth. And it just got too much. Me and Sam eventually decided enough was enough. The next one to shout it got thrown out...one next to me had go, and out he want, i took his beer off him, and pulled him out, this of course gave rise to a chorus of cheers. And then the game began.

One by one we threw them out, none of them wanted to be any more trouble than that. And to be fair, they could have been. This went on for ages. I by this point, i forgot to add, was livid. I was just really annoyed at the stupidly. In fairness they were having a laugh, but it was taking the piss, and of course at the time i didn't know, any of them could have kicked it all off. And also, my Ex was sitting right next to them all watching this all happen. So i had the burn of her eyeballs staring at me as well. First time she's seen me work for my money...

Pricks sliding along the floor...out.

One long haired clever dick next to him...out.

He said "We should all shout it at the same time, like one two"

Gone. I wasn't having that. He thought he said it quiet enough for me to not notice, fraid not. I gave him a nice shove out the door. Of course they were all gathered in the smoking section, but no real trouble just loud laryness. Pathetic really.

One guy I'd seen in there before and spoke to previously, stocky skinhead i was told couldn't be let back in despite me telling him he could be. The manager later refused. I felt like a bit of a a-hole because i had said he could come back in because he wasn't part of the dick head massive. But orders is orders, after the standard tiresome default complaining he went.

However another table gave us a few more problems. I was standing by the smokers doors, after most of it had calmed down and the manager asked for a table of three fells one white guy and two Asian looking gents to be removed. We don't ask questions, we do it. It's our job. So i walked over, and done what I've done many times now.

"Sorry fellas, it's time to leave now"

"Why? what have we done?" Said the chubby one.

Fuck that. I don't have time to explain, i was riled anyway because of the shit before, they can have an explanation outside.

"Well I'm not going no where" Was the response from the oldest of the three, in his early forties.

That kind of shit, instantly translates to my ears as..."yes you are mate" I took him, and for a short guy he put up a little struggle, especially compared to the football dicks. But i got a lot of weight behind me, i positioned myself sumo style behind him and he was out. I remember some blah blah at the smokers section. "I want my money back" "explain what we did" "you liar" etc etc I wasn't even the slightest bit interested. Their words went over my head like fluffy clouds on a fresh blue day...wasn't listening mate, too tired.

It had been a long night, and we were only just over an hour or so into it. To be fair, they were not half as bad at the lot we threw out earlier, but these people have to understand a job is a job, we're just doing it. As far as doormen go, we're really good. I know tons who wouldn't have thought twice about nutting the lot of them. Me I'm not hard enough for all that, plus i want an easy night. Don't get payed enough to scrap unless i have to. Three nights a week Krav...yes sir.

A gathering of the dregs of the football crowd at the end of the night, still trying it a bit. of course alcohol had been flowing all night now. But that was pretty much it. We earned our money that night, and it all ended with not one fight. That's gotta be good.

So here i am, preparing for tonight, Friday night (29th feb) I'm ready. Food has been consumed, I've had my standard sleep. It's my favourite venue...let's do it. Interestingly enough, I'm off to work at the biggest club in my town afterwards, i haven't been there since new year. Something will pop off there, guaranteed. Hopefully not in my direction...

..sir.

Entry Number Twenty Four: "I'm Going To Afghan To Kill Pa*is"

2008-02-17T11:09:00.004Z

Last night was dickhead night. I don't know why but the place was crammed full of idiots who were really frustrating me. I was definitely in a grump last night. I had my miserable face on. It was oh so enjoyable to, in a word, take out that frustration on a few. Not in a physical sense of course noo nooo nooo, just you know, being a bit more strict than normal, all because i was in a mood. Why not, i am a king amongst paupers.

As soon as i got there, on the table in front of me was a six foot five skinhead squaddie. The manager had warned me about him when i first arrived. Big bloke, lary. I had a chat with him to stay cool, and keep it down. He seemed like an ok guy, in good spirits. Later on though, as the drink flowed into his blood stream, the inevitable happened. He got loud, got offensive. I didn't fancy tackling this dude, he was big, but you can't take the piss enough was enough.

"I'm going to Afghan in a few weeks to kill Pa*is"

Nice one mate. If i could hear him telling an elderly couple this, then others around him could as well. I told him any more talk like that and he's out. He was suprisingly gracious about it for a thug. So that was the end of that, for now. These are the men protecting our nation. Makes you proud huh. This was his leaving send off, all the family were there. It was a tough one to handle...

I balanced it all up and went from there. For one his brother had come over earlier and apologized for him in advance. I did give him a little leeway but enough was enough. I despise racism, as well, so i was doing good to keep my cool.

I stood beside this table for the next hour or so but he'd had too much. Too loud, and people were feeling uncomfortable. I asked one of my colleagues in the distance to keep one eye on me, and i moved in. Luckily he walked to the smokers section with his family who were quite helpfully tricking him into leaving.

Outside his thick dumb head clicked on to wizardy we'd all played on him and he tried to get back in. I blocked the entrance and inevitably, almost as if he had to by default...he got lary, his family pulling him back. By now a wall of three doormen were blocking the side entrance he left. After some weak protesting, flailing fists, and other bullshit i was too tired to really remember, he went.

More fools, woman flirting, which is always nice. Few who had too much who weren't coming back in. It was by far the busiest Saturday I'd done there. People telling me to cheer up, forgetting that I'm not actually knocking back the Vodkas and cokes alongside them, and that I'm working. No, last night i didn't want it. Too much going on in my head. It did effect me a little bit, i even wanted to throw people out for no reason at one point, and that's not like me.

It is nice to know the regulars now though, groups of girls who i see as a regular, it's by far the venue i want to be perched at. There's talk of changes happening, and I've already had a few problems in that area, with being put elsewhere etc etc . Which I've refused. But more on that soon.

Anyway I'm guessing as normal tonight (Sunday) will be dead, if I'm even working...I've got a full time day job coming soon, which i plan to do alongside the nights, so the free time at the moment I'm enjoying every second of. Seeya.

Entry Number Twenty Three: The Last Days?

2008-02-11T07:28:00.000Z

Very quiet four days, so not much to jot down really. No excitement, had to take a guy out who the bar staff said shouldn't be served no more, his mate got him a drink and then the bar staff asked us (me) to "escort him out" The guy was fine, no trouble, just had a few, i sympathised with his protests but life is life...He was moaning about there being a pedofile in the corner, convicted apparently, insisting i "throw him out as well then" lobbing an old boy out for being a pedo...well, you gotta, you really really gotta have your facts right for that one...i left it.

So what else over the four days, lot's of communication with the ladies. Being a regular at a spot definately definately is a plus, if you are a single gent such as myself. You build up "freindship links" see regulars. It's good, it's nice.

However, yesterday (Sunday) was dead. Even the DJ wasn't called in. Rumour has it they will slice the number of Doorstaff down, i'm hoping that won't be me, but it very well might be...if i'm all over the south east again Ayelsbury, Watford, i will be finding another company to work for...however...if i stay local i can cope. Would have just been nice to have a nice little regular spot.

So yeah, no events whatsoever, which is a good thing. Three days off now...which means lots of sleep, and lots of rudey moves. Back on thurs...i hope.

Entry Number Twenty Two: That's not very nice.

2008-02-03T08:47:00.000Z

Old boy on the dancefloor tipping over and swaying, it was gonna end ugly no matter how this particular hand of cards was played. You know what i mean? Short fella about fifty, gripping a Budweiser for dear life, barely keep his eyes open. At the end of it all, having him there rocking about looking sick, makes me look like i'm not doing my job...said it before...will say it again.... "not on my turf"

I went over to him and to be fair, i gave dude a chance. "Are you ok bud?" I asked him. He nodded in a similar fashion to how one would nod, if they were fucking underwater. He was not in a good way. I backed off, let him stand up, and give him one final observation. He leant to the wall and almost tipped over. That's it, no more.

I walked over to him, took him by his waist and said i wanted a chat with him. He had the kind of suprised screwface look plastered on his mug as if to say "w.t.f.a.y.d." I couldn't care less how the muscles in his face were contorting. He put up a weak struggle but i kept walking, he had to go with the flow, with nature. Inevitable. First of all i was going to offer him to sit down out the back for a bit and sober up for thirty minutes. He was having none of it outside, he was trying to be aggressive but the budwieser had hold.

"Sho you gna give me that bottle back" He slurred.

He musta been-a crazy. Course not. Last thing you do is give a steaming drunk who you've just ejected from the dancefloor, who's put a struggle up, their bottle back. He offered me a hand to shake, and gestured he was going to leave via the outside area. I shook his hand. Then when he was in safe distance, he shouted...

"You spastic" Charming. Try to 'elp eh?

The rest of the night i must have had the Lynx effect, one of the gorgeous barmaids who was on a night off was giving me some friendly attention. Three ladies to my face on three different occasions commented on how "fit" this said Doorman was. And women passing me for the smokers section all night were on the flirt with me. I mean more than normal. It happens as standard being a doorman right? But i mean, they were really really on it. Was going to get the barmaids actual digits but she left before i had time to whack her with the javeline of love.

Good saturday night, i get the feeling i wont be reporting on tommorow night sunday, if not, then im done for the week till thurs! Wooo hooo. Thank you for your time, and attentions.

Entry Number Twenty One: The EX Factor

2008-02-02T08:52:00.000Z

Nothing to report for last Sunday and the Thursday just gone sir. Both days were quiet. Lots of people, just quiet, no 'assle. New guy started thursday gone. He seems cool to be fair. He's got a good knowledge of the area, and has worked a local bar round the corner so he knows the trouble makers and "ruffians" of the area. He will probably get the Head Doorman gig i eventually wanted. Such is life. All i need to do is SNIPE HIM...one time "POP" and that bitch is MINE!

Yesterday though, (friday) was busy, lots of people. I'd say probably our busiest night of the week. Loads of excited pubbers. This is the biggest new venue in this town, and it's only two weeks old, so everyones excited. Excitment is acceptable. As long as it's under MY TERMS. Everyone having a laugh...and a fair few lovely ladies if i may add.

Besides the DJ complaining that his mixer was broken, there was nothing else to report. I noticed someone i knew from about six months ago who was very important in my life at the time bowling around the bar (an ex) but she didn't cause no beef. As i was expecting. I have the feeling i'll have more to write on that little chestnut later. Of course i don't want to go into detail but she was very fiery and we ended very badly, and this is her town so, we'll see...

Speaking to a short, but fairly stocky lad outside in the smoking section about being a doorman. He wanted to know something or other about the shining badge of justice around my arm. He seemed cool. twenty minutes later, i see him squaring up to a tall guy in his mid thirties, spiky hair. I move over to see what the fuss is abo..SMACK... tall guy throws a rather weak looking jab at one of the kids in the short boys crew. I grabbed lanky by his waist and it was over for him, bowled him through the doors and it was done. He was protesting about someone hit someone first or something or other. Probably the case but i can only go with what i see, so you gone motherfucker. Outside was crazy cold, so his night ended early, he was wound up but didn't want no problems with us, just shortie.

I went over to the group of young boys and asked what happened, they said he hit them first. Which to be fair is all i saw. No one else said otherwise so i gave the kids a warning and that was that. We had a group strong of 20 earlier, 20 lads on a night out. Area Manager my boss knew them, and although they got a bit lary, he sorted it cool....simmered the situation that coulda happened there. And that's pretty much it.

So yeah, Sat night tonight...i wanna know what the story with my ex is to be honest. Where's that gonna go. Her mates have been in there since it opened saying comments under their breath, and i swear i heard one of her male mates tonight call me "nigger" but, but the problems that would have caused if i'd have made a mistake...so i let it slip, let it go. There's more to this one brewing though.

Entry Number Twenty: Prevention

2008-01-27T08:52:00.000Z

All good, all good bredrin. First ever Saturday, only one incident. Standing there, minding my own business, and a group (three) of lads who'd drunk too much, all of em mates, took things a bit too far. One of them gripped up the other by his chin, the third lad in the middle trying to stop it. I didn't know this at the time, and just grabbed old boy by the waist, dragged him through the doors to the smokers section and plonked him on the cold pavement. Explain what you was doing afterwards mate...no what i mean??

All three were ejected eventually, trying to protest in the smokers section. Area manager doorman wasn't having it. "You and you have been fighting, so you got no chance of coming back in" One of them wasn't to happy with that and stormed off into the night, holding a budweiser bottle....i think NOT. I went for the bottle, he tightened his grip, so "eff" that. I swiped the badboy off him, walked back inside, placed the bottle down, brushed off my shoulders and stood on the smokers section so they didn't come back in. The streets were safe. Well, the wine bar i happened to work in was safe.

Besides day three of flirting with a pretty but ultimately aged about fifteen, barmaid, that's all there is to tell really. After my no nonsense approach to drinks on the dance floor yesterday, people pretty much kept to it. One or two wandered onto the minefield with a drink, only to look down and see it had actually disappeared from their very hand in an instant. Cut to me holding it, plonking it down on a nearby table, and signaling "no drinking" over the banging music.

Good Saturday night though, good first ever Saturday night. Some events at my old flat have left me effectively koching in my mums spare room until i get a flat. Ok, I'm 28, this can't happen. The plan is to get this daytime work I'm waiting on a document through the post, and then continue doing the doors four nights a week...i will literally be laughing. The only way doorwork can really be effective is with two jobs being perfectly honest...i mean money wise.

As for the bar? I'm sure Sunday, the LORDS DAY will be a day of peace tonight...we shall see.

Entry Number Nineteen: "Not on my turf mate..not on my turf"

2008-01-26T10:03:00.000Z

Did i die? Nope. I had to have a long hard think about this door work. Ok, and the decision is, I'm gonna stick with it. What happened? Well funnily enough...nothing. No incidents, i ain't got (fingers crossed) hit yet, in fact i handle any potential problems really well, I've learnt a lot.

Basically in the month off from blogging I've been disappointed with the money to be honest. It's no where near what i was expecting, and I've had to face the reality that it's not going to be. Also after Xmas the work dried up big time. Two days a week? three at the most. Leaving me in serious shit, as i have at the current time no day job. I flirted with the idea of giving it all up, but have basically decided to get a day job, and do the doors at night, which would leave me set nice. That's it really, i just thought there's no point writing a blog if I'm going to leave the...thing...I'm writing a blog about, but then i realised I'd been thinking about leaving for over a month now, and was still here...so here i am. Back blogging it with the kids, and grown adults.

I did New Year at the biggest club in my town which was good, I've made good friends in the agency i work for. I've been a "street marshall" and given that up within a day. I've yet to find my regular spot though, my regular perching place...until now. Which is why I'm writing again. I no longer work for Dean as well. Money problems, not getting payed on time, Mafia intimidation, you know, normal day at work shit. The money is a let down as it is, so to be fucked around when it comes to actually getting that money? is just silly stuff. People have swore, cussed, but nothing major. Christmas time was ok. I should have carried on documenting really but i just got let down with it all. Good news is as i said though, I've been given a regular spot...and it's local, so i don't have to drive for 45 fucking minutes just to get there. More like 15 minutes...sweet as a nut mate, sweet as a cashew nut.

Basically a new chain of Bar has opened in a town right next to mine, and I'm gonna be with the first team of doorman there. Basically, it's gonna be our place. And for the first time since getting my license, I'm excited again. This means many things, for one, i could eventually become head doorman. I start this thursday and i will be back to the documenting again now i have some kind of focus.

I'll explain what happened...

It was a business meeting basically, we were called down to see the venue. The would-be head doorman was so late, he actually missed the meeting, he wasn't there by the time i left anyway. We had a speak to the manager, who funnily enough is the same woman who used to work at the Venue that Dean handled, i had a little flirt. Manager or no, who cares. I have to suck up. I want this place.

This was the first night it was actually open, so everything was sparkling. The toilets gleaming, seats plush, tables shiny. Fit as hell barmaids..... We had a look around what is basically to be our new home. It's very open, bright, and new. This chain is known to have money, and you can see it. They have splashed out big on this one. After sitting at a table around some warm coffee's, and discussing the rules of the venue, the owner of My Agency gave me the four days there and then. Very very good.

So, i assume i start this thursday, and i will document everything, this is like day one doing the doors in a way. Brand new venue. New team, and will give me a sense of stability in this job.....
First opening night at the brand new venue was stress free. Everything all sparkly and new. Very pretty. New piss pots, not even touched. The chain that run this Bar have money. So everything was very lavish. It was busy, but no trouble. A few design problems made things a bit uncomfortable. The smoking area is completely open, to the effect of people on the street can wander effectively right into the establishment, there's three doors. The main one being at the front. So two guys are needed on both doors constantly. Perched. But it's cool, we got this...
I know the area, i know the town, people seemed friendly. All white crowd with one or two, Literally, one or two black faces or Asian faces peppered throughout. But mainly white. Good first night, no trouble boss..no trouble...

Night two....which was last night....

Bit more hairy. The spot i was in, turned out to be a bit of a visual juggling act so to speak. I had to watch the Dancefloor section in the distance, no drinks on the Dancefloor, had to stop people abusing the open smoking area section and cruising right in, like Will Smith. Had to stop people taking drinks outside after 12...as well as keeping a general eye on things within my range of vision. All good fun. And to be honest, i loved it.

Lots of people taking the piss with drinks on the Dancefloor but this is standard at first, i had to be the proverbial steamed train with this. I pile through the dancefloor like a shot and remove any drinks on there, quick time. Remember, this is this Bars first EVER friday night, people are going to want to, as standard, take the piss. See how far they can push it. Simple fact is, i want this Gig. I want this club permanent. I want to make my stamp on it, i want to rule with an IRON FIST. Because i STronG LiKE BuLL...

Two incidents, two guys had to leave for being mouthy, one was trying to explain to me he wanted to just finish his beer in front of the manager to make his point. I did my usual tactic of agreeing, agreeing agreeing , Boom, get out. Heave ho. But before i had a chance, the other doormen on my team piled in like madmen. To be fair i was handling it. But, it's first night, everyone is excited, want to make a good impression on the chain of Bars and handle things in their own way.

The guy stood at the exit protesting. He calmed down eventually. His oriental like features pleading me to go in and get his friends again. He was cool no trouble. Just an over excited manager. But it's not for me to question. Manager says out, we get him out.

One black guy kept giving me "evils" throughout the night as he walked to and fro from the smokers entrance. Not sure if it's because me and him were the only two black guys actually in there or? i don't know. Territorial thing perhaps. "me want white girls" i don't know. Prick.

Someone else got ejected in a similar fashion to the oriental guy. Biggest incident of the night was some dude cracked someone else in the face for squaring up to him. I didn't see it. I just saw a fuss near one of the smokers entrances with two doormen. I went over and he showed his hand to the doorman. Tall lanky white dude, with spiky hair. His hand red, knuckle looked like someone had placed a glowing red snooker ball underneath it. Broken possibly. Sweet. I stood behind him until i got the nod everything was sorted.

Beside a short Asian dude squaring up at one of the doormen because he jumped the queue and wasn't allowed in. That was it. Good exciting first ever friday night to be honest. It's about laying down the rules now, just making sure no piss is taken, so to speak. But everything was handled smoothly. Of course first ever saturday night coming up so, we shall see, we shall see...all i know is this, all i know is this one thing.

Not on my turf mate....

Not on my turf.

Entry Number Eighteen: "I'm The Number One P*ki !!!!"

2007-12-12T12:43:00.000Z

...those were his words not mine. And oh how messy those words were. Long shift at my regular, football was on, and no away supporters were allowed in. This to me, was a magnet for trouble, there were three of us tonight, normally it's me and Yenno. I was with two other guys I'd seen about but don't know as such, they were cool. It was busy inside but a good atmosphere, all fine until a tall asian boy bumped the manager, they exchanged glances and off we go...

"He askin me if i got a problem and I'm tryna fuckin drink mate" he says, voice raised. He looked upset but I'm finding people have hot bursts of anger and normally cool off. But this guys rage just grew and grew until it eventually boiled over. No reasoning, someone flipped the switch and he was gone. Words were exchanged between him and the manager until the manager had enough..."take him out lads" Big fella i was working with took lead and motioned for the Asian lad to walk out. The in turn knocked his volume switch up a few notches...

"Tell that fat fuck I'm gonna fuckin have him, fat fucker, I'm just tryna drink tell him" He screamed, anger burning his skinny golden face. As my collegue put a hand on his arm to keep him moving, he snapped it away with a flinch and walked out. By now doorman number 3 joined us. Friendly guy and outside he tryed to talk the boy down, pour some icy water on the situation, the boy wasn't having it.

Outside we stood at the entrance a three man barrier as the boy continued with the insults. They ranged from racism, to the managers weight. At one point the boy and a colleague were head to head, manning up. The two of them reminded me of a big boxing match poster? you know how the boxers are side on head to head? It was exactly like that, and any second, someone was going to make the first move. Now, i never let anyone get that close to me, and this boy was ready to pop off, he was going to throw something, be it a fist, a headbutt...no, an ashtray.

He backed down from the doorman and reached over the plastic fence that cordens off the smoking area and tried to clamber it like a grasy cat to grab an ashtray and hurl it. I pushed him away and he snapped his arm away from me "don't fuckin touch me" he blurted. "well don't climb the fence then" i said. Jesus Christ. He walked off cursing and screwing. That was it, over done...

He came back.

I forgot to mention he was with three short Asian boys too but he was obviously the ring leader, they kind of scuttled around his feet like puppies. Barking off a few weak insults toward us here and there but clearly not out for trouble, "This is my beef" he screamed. He stood near the entrance again, calling out the manager. Onlookers nervously smoked their sticks. As advised by the head doorman, i asked them to step inside, but people want to see, want to look. I was convinced a scrap was on the cards tonight, this guy wanted it so badly. Everyone in the smokers section was convinced too. They wanted ringside seats.

"I'm the towns number one p*ki, I'm a 10 stone p*ki i will fuck all you up i don't care, i will fuck all you up, you white bastards, and you black man, you blacks were slaves for years, your a sell out" now when i was speaking to the guy previously trying to calm him down, i was trying to reason with the dude, this is my way. I'm trying to avoid a scrap, i was proper trying to reason, even when he was throwing the racism about to my white colleagues, but then he turns it on me! Five years ago, comments like that would have sparked me, but i laughed it off. I felt nothing.

Of course throughout the whole exchange my adrenalin is pounding through my body, i was so close to all kicking off i was ready. The guy walked off screaming, but not before the sweet promise of him coming back hooded up and bottling us at a later date. Charming...

Tonight i'm at an all black club, special event...sigh...

Entry Number Seventeen: Chunky

2007-12-09T09:47:00.000Z

Good one tonight mate, good one. Most exciting event of note was a group of lads who were blatantly underage but all seemed to have valid ID's One young fella looked about 12.

One of the bunch threw up a oaty treat everywhere, luckily outside, and he sat there head down, slumped forward in the chair like he'd just been picked off by a pro sniper. Poor boy, poor boy. His 12 year old looking mate was worse for wear too, we decided enough was enough and he wasn't let back in.

They played the Khan fight in the large sized pub, so that was a bonus too. But tonight was a quiet one. And the start of me permanently being on the doors and inside clubs and pubs. No more Fucking Taxi rank. The highlight of the night was me upping my flirt game with the bar staff i think...i love this job :-D

Entry Number Sixteen: Sandwich Guard

2007-12-09T09:44:00.000Z

Hey ho! as we wave goodbye gracefully to my career as a fkin taxi marshall...later, adios. Told my boss i'm done with it. Working with him is actually a laugh, he's as immature as me and as much of an actual clown. But after bumping into an old friend i knew while working, and somehow explaining to him my fall from grace from call centre manager to...opening doors for people, and then proceeding to actually opening his door...i don't know i cant do it. So i had a nice chat with the boss earlier and yep, goodbye taxi rank shit...good...this is good.

Loads of pretty girls were out in force, and the night was freezing, we were positioned right outside a busy club, and between a KFC, and Subway, so to be fair, we were needed and we were a deterrent, well for the most part. Loads of lovely things strutting down the street like the catwalks of Milan. Thursday night is the new friday as the kids would say and it certainly looked that way, jesus was it cold though, and i was wrapped up like a freak too!

My boss loves sending people who ask for the toilet toward the direction of the shopping malls fire exit, they are drunk and vulenrable. It eats away at my heart a little, as they stand confused knocking on the fire exit door trying to go in for a whazzle, when a confused memeber of the "mall security" opens up, but it's all fun, and made the night go quicker.

A short fat man in his late forties barely able to keep his balance was speaking to two student types. One with long shaggy hair, the other with enough spots for britain. They both clutched an open subway sandwich like a loaded pistol while mocking the old man. The old dude seemed cool, he came to me earlier in the night and shook my hand but well you never know people.

One of the students said something in an admiteddely condesending manner...whack. A quick snappy jab to the students face backed him off, it was a clean hit but the nerd took the punch well, didn't even cut his lip. He jus backed off, looked a bit shaken and continued to tell me "i was just asking him if he was going the same way as us man, shit"

I didn't see it coming but zipped right in there to stop any more stupidness happening. Too much drink, to much brovado. Like the old black guy earlier on in the night who threatened to bring a gun back and shoot a taxi driver because they refused him a drive because he never coughs up the dough. Broke bastard. Work.

Besides a motuhy ex doorman who had a problem with being refused a taxi by the taxi rank over the road, and rightly so, he was aggressive and racist, but they caved in and let him. I was inbetween the two of them (again) just in case. Now as Taxi marshall none of this we're supposed to do, we're supposed to just leave it, not get involved as we have no powers. Sorry fuck that, i didn't pay all this cash for the badge to stand there having a wank. Nope, i want to get in there, and do my job...and i did.

Near the end of the night a crowd gathered under the lights of the big bright subway and KFC logo's. Hungry clubbers wanting quick food. It had to happen. Me and my boss noticed a big gathering, then heard raised voices...yeh, it had to happen. But, we didn't expect it to happen like this. Some guy took a sweet hook to the head and went down, courtest of a tall lanky mixed race dude. I ran over through the frightened crowd and then saw the guy still landing boots on the fallen vitcims head like a free for all. I pulled him off, expecting that wack to come it didn't. Im 5'11 about 17 stone if i pull you off, i pull you off homey, .He left it shouted some words to the guy on the floor and ran off.

Me and my boss moved the crowd away and called on the CCTV radios the police, who got here fairly quickly, but not before another fella did EXACTLY the same thing further up the queue of people. And so off we were again, same thing, pushed the guy off before he landed more kicks to the tall lanky guys head who was on the floor in a bad state, he looked like he was swimming in and out of conciousness before we got there, not really reacting to the boots...i pushed the guy off and he shouted about a shirt being ripped or his shirt was ripped.

My memory tells me that i actually remember this guy arguing earlier with someone about his or someones girlfriend, but of course i couldn't predict him doing this. The guy went back in to land more boots, no way. I pushed him away again. "fuck this pussy boy, im back for all of you" him and his mate ran for the car and sped off...the police arrived done what looked like their default questioning then went off for doughnuts.

Near the end of the night a nervous secuirty guard for the town centre emerged from a door, and poked his head out "wow looks like it kicked off here earlier heh heh heh" me and my boss just looked at him. Amusingly my boss played the A-Team theme tune on his phone as the david brent like security guard emerged to check "all was well" yeh, thanks for getting involved mate. Pathetic.

Some very very attractive ninteen year old girls stood and spoke to us as the night ended, rain hammering down good and proper like it had been all night, and gave us some flyers about some rave or something. I asked if they needed doorstaff...why not. One was exremely pretty, short long black hair, nice figure...i did nothing i tell you.

So that was it...technically speaking i have one more night of taxi marshall to do, and thats friday night, tonight. Once that's done that...and i just got a call that im supposed to be at the rank at 9....and i thought it was 11:00 FUCK....bye

Entry Number Fifteen: No Entry

2007-12-05T07:11:00.000Z

The nights before at this venue, which has now become my most regular, have been silent, nothing to report. The usual. Tonight though was a little bit more hairy, read on...

Night started off as normal, signing in, handing out the radio's to the bar staff. Near the end of the night a girl with a thick scouse accent gripped hold of my hand as i was walking past. She sat with a table of three people. The merriment of drink was in full swing. She was already nearly mentally gone. "WhAT's thE TimE??" i told her the time, then she stood up and hugged me. She was very drunk, very pretty. Long dark red hair, cute face. Fairly tall. Slim. I sat her back down with her family after unlocking her arms around my neck from an embrace, she smelt sweet. Fine i walk on...

Later on me and Yenno are standing, of course, ever alert, while watching floyd mayweather prepare to beat the stuffing out of hatton in a gym on the big screen, when the same girl wanders over. She is clearly drunk, but also it seems a little high as well. Floaty. She can barely form a sentence her words fall out of her mouth in an awkward backward symphony each sentence more bizzare than the last. I couldn't hold it in. I let loose a little giggle. This was like a red rag to a bull.

"Are you patronisin me??" she says, scouse accent so thick you couldn't cut through it. "No not at all, just something funny my colleague done earlier" then the rage in her face sparks off, and she turns a beet root red. "you don't fucking know me, patronising me, you two blacks, think your gangsters" or words to that effect. I calmed her down, and she went to sit back with her family, she burst into tears onto the shoulder of a large man she was sitting next to.

Everything is nice and easy, it's a Tuesday night, nothing is open in town. Couldn't ask for a more quiet night. But as usual near the end of the night is where the stupidities come into play. A group of men in their early forties decided it would be a laugh to climb into the DJ Booth. One of the senior bar staff called me over and told me to remove them from the premises. I walked up to them, through the beer cloud they emitted, and closed the booth. I then stood in the centre of the pack like a solid lump, and asked them to leave.

"Bit stupid innit mate? all over nothing???" Said a porky member of the crew "well rules is rules so you'll have to leave sorry fellas" i replied politely. Gobby in his early forties, spiky hair, quite stocky decided to give it. "Make me" he said. He was drunk, but not completely off his head. But he was drunk. This got my back up, as from here on in, it's now confrontational, i am the most polite doorman, security member you will meet, probably to my disadvantage, but this guy wanted trouble. I looked over at Yenno who was engaged with conversation with a bar staff member, i didn't radio him over, i can handle these guys, if it all kicked off Yenno would have heard, i wanted to see what i could do here.

I moved closer to the guy, but out of headbutts distance, and placed a hand on his elbow to indicate movement. The mob started to get a bit excited. "Oi Oi fe lla, we're leaving" said one of the goons. Spiky haired gobby continued however "I'm drinking this first then i leave" i wasn't having it. I positioned myself to the side, out of striking distance, and decided i was going to lead the guy out. Yenno stepped over and spiky threw a dart he shouldn't have at Yenno "fuck off you" to his credit, Yenno did reason with the guy, but the drunkard clearly wanted to prove something, not sure what.

He got more aggressive and insisted he wasn't moving, his pint was still full, he picked it up and went to drink it. Yenno removed the glass from his hand with a snap, beer spilled to the floor, the fun had started. I placed a hand on the centre of the guys back and moved him toward the door, he went, but not without a threat of me being sued and this and that.

Then when outside a few racial slurs came, the usual. Me, it didn't faze me in the slightest. Even the taunts of, "theres six of us, you try something etc etc ." I ain't stupid brother...I'm not going to prison for no one, i wasn't even angry, I'm not gonna fight.

Yenno however walked right up to mouthy through the six of them, and headed him face up. "Why don't you say it now I'm in front of you" spiky mumbled some stuff clearly bricking it.
Outside the front of the bar, me and Yenno, and six big dudes in their forties, it could have kicked off there and then, but i think they knew they would have had a scuff on their hands. I'm about as wide as Yenno is tall, and we make a combined sight.

I wouldn't want to take us on personally...they walked off cursing and shouting, we entered the club to a suprise chorus of thank you's from the bar staff...we were just doing our job.

Reflecting back one thing i remember earlier on, is when spiky was giving it large i noted him roll up his jumper sleeves, as if preparing himself for some fisticuffs, this is why i thought tonight was kick off night...but drink, makes you brave, makes you stupid.

All of this has prompted me to review exactly how much force i have and what powers i have when it comes to removing someone, i will look into this again, all i do at the moment is guide people with a hand and for the most part eventually, they start moving, but the time will come when someone won't budge, I've always wondered about this...

The girl returned, the one from earlier, her family had deserted her and she was in tears, really upset, heavily drunk. Swaying form left to right like an old boat. She gripped onto my hand for dear life, constantly apoligising. I took her outside and sat her down. Hoping the cool fresh air would blow some sence into her.

We sat on the steps outside the bar, under the bright blue neon light logo. The streetlights made everything orange, taxi drivers parked outside looked on curious as she sobbed.

I stood beside her. She started crying more. She actually asked me to walk her home but no way, not while she was in this state. This day and age you be a good citizen and you're up in the docks for something or other. Sorry, but fuck that. I guided her to a taxi and she wobbled her way toward it, slamming her hand on its roof for support. She fell in, and It drove off home. Not sure what her story was but i did feel sorry for her in the end...

So that was it, right now I'm trying to rack up enough door hours to seriously live off this as a full time occupation. The pay isn't as good as i was expecting it to be, all these stories of 16 pound and 18pd an hour ain't true. It's good pay, but not quite that much, i think that money is the exceptional clubs or the actual danger zones. But I'm not seeing that kind of dough. Also i need to politely get myself out of this taxi rank marshall shit, because it's not what i want, i will do one more out of politeness and because it's short notice to refuse now for the company i work for but that's it...that's it...

I was thinking of looking into Cash in transit in the daytime until i saw that it's going to be another 245 pound to get the license and then more for the exam. So yeah once again, politely, fuck actual that.

Lets try and get some regular work set. The good thing is, that i do enjoy my job, if it's the right venue, i actually look forward to going to work, so it's not all bad...but is it enough to live off? I'm questioning that.

Entry Number Fourteen: No Flirting

2007-12-02T11:53:00.003Z

Football game was on, so we were needed to keep the peace at a bar out of town. I escaped the Taxi shit, and thank god. Police on their horses were strutting through the town centre, from first sights, it would have looked like something was going to happen. But from my first time at this town i can already feel things were more relaxed generally than my home town. Lot of excitement over nothing, these little towns love it i think.

No incidents at all, one woman complained up close about two of the other door staff i was with intimidating her husband or some bollox. I apologised sincerly then proceeded to not give a fuck. Give me some action to break up.

AHA ACTION...well...As i stood on the main door a girl started flirting heavy. She was wearing long black socks short schoolgirl style skirt and a tight tight top. I suggested to her that her company should give her some work in my town so she can come down and see me....that's the closest I'll risk to flirting at the moment...cos I'm a new boy I'm still ultra paranoid about someone complaining about me perving off. It's happened to a doorman at the company i work for, a few of them. But my flirt confidence is building. The lines are increasing...you will be updated on this.

Near the end of the night there was a lock out, basically as the fans were leaving the stadium all the bars and pubs along the town centre were closed by the police. Obviously to stop the rowdy lot piling in and pushing over the odd chair or two, and shouting one or two naughty words, such as "bottom" and "willie" the usual.

Anyway, this naturally kept the beer hungry wolves agitated, as a big crowd built in front of me and my colleague...same words, over and over, upset faces, shaking heads and miserable old men looked back at us..the words were "sorry, shut till 8:00 cos of the football people, thanks" one brainiac came up with the suggestion that i "jus open up mate, go oooon" ... "um, no" i threw him through the window......i did not do this..

Drove back to my local town afterwards and did inside at a very popular club in my town, the head doorman wasn't messing about early on but he opened up near the end of the night, guess i was just another newboy doorman to him, fair enough. I literally got told the drill "you fuck up, i will bollock you" fair enough, the club was heaving and there was only four of us inside.

We were positioned at points in the club and rotated, eyes open look for incidents. It was packed but everyone was in very good spirits. The music was old eighties and old no1's so the crowd was a peaceful one even though it was ram jammed. No matter what people say, most of the people in there do respect you, you're there to protect them, and they were all well behaved tonight.
Lots of smiling faces, girls pinching my rear, hugging me sloshed out of their brains.

No incidents the whole night. I initially felt very uncomfortable, all of a sudden the pressure of responsibility hit me, as in, this is what I'm here for, I'm protecting these people. It's no longer a "cool job" it's serious shit sherlock. I loved it. So many times I'd been in the club, looking a the door staff wishing, well, here it was. No indenents, two guys who got a bit loud and had a tiny little push and shove were separated, the banging music blocked out any communication but the dispute ended, and me an my colleague decided to leave them be but keep an eye on them.

I was like a spring near the beginning of the night, ready, by the end my feet were killing me and my thirst was peeling my lips. I was bringing forth saliva in my mouth, and trying to wet the inside of my lips...that didn't work. In all fairness i should have asked the bar staff for a water or something. But as i said, old head boy was a bit of a hawk, i need to make good impressions where ever i work....i could wait.

Despite uncomfortably getting used to the crackling radios, trying to understand what was being said, and not look like a plank squeezing this black walkie talkie to my head with a screwed up face expression plastered over my mug that was it for the night. This is what i wanted, this is the job, and to be honest i love it.

I'm now aiming for a regular spot, my own regular perch, as I'm all over the place at the moment. More soonie.

Entry Number Thirteen: Three Bags Full Sir

2007-11-30T13:40:00.000Z

Time for reflection, after nearly three weeks of doorwork how do i feel. How is it all going. Well, I've had two depressing weekends of Taxi Marshalling. Which basically involves opening peoples doors, shining their shoes for them, and if needed, licking the crusted dog poo from beneath their shoes, only on a few occasions. Not happy with that one...

I haven't been in a club since the last incident with the hulk, yesterday i was walking around the halls of a massive University as extra security was needed due to a recent incident. Brain dead work, besides a group of wanna be gangsters giving it lip who shouldn't have been on campus that was it, once again...brain dead stuff. Not what I'm ultimately looking to do...

My aim is to get a regular spot inside a club or on the doors, the main company I'm with, I've kind of slipped into the role of a security guard but on better money. Fair enough but it's not what I'm after..put me back in the club like the first two weeks i started. So right now i'm looking to politely bow out with the company i was with, and find myself a solid six days of doorwork a week...

There's a few changes happening very soon with my work bosses etc etc...and I'm back in my original bar on Monday, so i will be back with the reporting. But outside of the sound of my feet walking on pavement for five hours...what else can i write? Back soon...

Oh, and *sigh*

Entry Number Twelve: The Hulk Cometh

2007-11-22T13:10:00.000Z

Well i wanted it, i got it. I finally got it, the rough and tumble i so foolishly asked for. All of a sudden, it all seems to real...

So I'm out of town tonight, first of all i get lost in the endless spaghetti of roads and junctions and turn offs. It's way out of my Town, a good hour or so. I ring boss number two and inform him. He is fine with it, as long as i get there. I arrive, the club is next to a College, and the students have passed or graduated something or other.

It is going to be a big night. Little did i know it was going to be the biggest night of Bouncing I'd ever done. In many ways....

First i was positioned by the fire exits, a nice big bright deterrent. They made me don a luminous green waist coat saying security. For the most part of the night i was looking around releasing this is it, what I've wanted to do for so long, and i love it. The club was glamorous, icy, flashy. It was packed to the brim. Short pretty girls with stunning make up, tight jeans, hair immaculate. Tonight was definitely dress to impress night for these kids. I'm not sure what the big celebration was but people were coming dresses as fairies, Mars Bars, it was most odd.

A few people trying it by sneaking through the fire exits i was guarding when my attention was caught, or climbing up on sides and platforms they shouldn't be. It really was like telling kids off, it WAS telling kids off.

The club was well designed chairs and tables modern designer, the music loud and pop. Lights lazers, it was a really nice looking club. It was so busy i was scanning around 24/7 my head whipping around when voices got too loud, or when a couple of lads play fighting went on a bit too long for me to be comfortable. But besides the abundance of tempting teenage (18+) flesh nothing really to hold the attention. All i remember feeling was, this is it...i am a bouncer.

Now, by the end of the night, the queue for the coats had grown to a ridiculously large number. There seemed to be people piling out of a magic hole from another dimension when it came to getting their coats. The place could not move, rammed. We set out metal barriers to indicate where the queue was supposed to be formed, eventually everyone gelled into place and a rowdy queue was formed, this was all still inside the club.

Some people however, tried to push their luck and get their belongings first. See i was the unlucky bouncer on preventing people from queue jumping or sneaking around the gates we'd placed. So my ears were treated with the tunes of protest for the most part of that position. "My coat is just there, please can you just get it", etc etc ..."if i let one i let all in love" etc etc For the first time ever, the job became frustrating. Loads of pretty young faces asking for me to just pop into the booth with a ticket and get their coat, forgetting there were several other hundred people asking the same thing.

It later got so rammed near the end of the night when people were collecting their coats, that some girls were getting crushed against the temporary metal railings we had to put up to maintain some kind of order. "Oi! fucking watch it" i shouted in the most professional manner i could muster. The heaving mass of bodies slowly moved backward giving the girls a bit more room. It felt like i was doing security at a Concert as opposed to inside a club, it just had that atmosphere. Mostly Asian faces. The area i thought was a village area, White. Obviously not.

Let me explain, now I'm a big Black dude from a black area, so to me it's essential to know what kind of faces and atmosphere I'm gonna be working at. Race comes into it IMO. Although after drink everyone is pretty much the same, but you have to approach most people different depending on assumptions, stereotypes which in a split second, you sometimes have to make.

We cleared everyone out fine, the club was a dejected mess of plastic bottles and cups, tissues, it looked like a bomb had fell. Good luck cleaning staff. I was half expecting to be asked to start mopping the shit up. I'm sorry there was more important issues we are payed to deal with right? and of course they must have known how this club goes...as we weren't asked to help the barstaff with chairs etc, which sometimes happen, our radios crackeld into life, and we were called outside...

Outside there was a huge gathering, about fifty or so people spread out across a huge park in front of the club. We were asked to move them from the area. The rain was coming down hard. There was an excited look on peoples faces, something was going to pop off. Black faces with hoodies looked around, i took a mental note of their grins, mugs and features. Asians in big groups huddled. The rain increased in intensity. The night wasn't over by a long shot...

I look to my left and one of my collegues is on the floor, scuffling with an asian boy, he couldnt have been over 19. Skinny, three of his mates were standing around trying to put a few fists and boots in. Pow, i steamed in and lifted the boy off my collegue, gripped him up as he was swinging about wildly and moved him away from the area as requested by another doorman. "He jus started on me for no reason man. He just come at me man" He shouted. The rain seem to increase in ferocity as the nights action peaked. God was watching?

Another fight next to me breaks out, and one of my collegues trys to restrain another Asian boy, this boy shorter, they spin in a circle scuffling i run over and see my collegue place a juicy uppercut into the boys stomach. Not needed IMO, but quick descisions are made at times. Fine. He twisted around the boy, and managed to grip him up by the time i got over there. I saw the punch from my collegue, and it was the first time really the reality and ugliness of this job hit in.

I'm working with thugs for the most part who love a scrap.

Now, i thought i was there to try and diffuse the situation and whip out the old fists at the last minute if needed, not just pop one in for the fun. the crack. I wouldn't hit anyone specially smaller than me unless i absloutely had to, really to defend myself. It was interesting to see. The whole scene was straight out of the Bouncer programmes they show on TV. Bright orange jackets falling. Scuffling...it was messy. And i was there in the middle....and then...

"YOU FUCKIN PUSSY, COME ON YOU FUCKING PUSSY" The biggest, and i mean, the biggest human being that walked the earth stormed over toward us. He was going for someone in the crowd, but the doorstaff including me were spread out in front of his target. Me and a tall white collegue instantly moved in, and tryed to calm the monster down.

No word of a lie, my adrenalin turned to fear of being fucking hit by this dude for the first time on my job. I went in ready for it. He was about 6'5 so stood over me. He must have weighed about 25 stone, he was visciously overweight, and he was fuming, i'd never been next to someone so angry and ready to fight in my life before. But i needed this early, to jump the mental hurdle.

My collegue tried to restrain him with one arm and lead him away from the clubs grass area, he wasn't going, "Can you fucking grab him please" He shouted to me, i placed a long arm over the guys massive chest and tried to push him back, this monsters face had turned from a golden Asian brown to beet root red, someone has pissed him off majorly, and he wasn't afraid to let them know he thought that they were a small feline. Many times.

He started swinging, me and my colleague were almost like two gnomes being thrown about by the Evil Giant, gripping onto his arms so we didn't go flying off into space. The big guy rocked me with a shot to my ribs, it had no force or didn't land right. So i wasn't backing off. He wanted a fight back i didn't give it. One because if I'd have got caught with those fists i don't think I'd have got back up, and two i have nothing to prove. I remained determined to get the guy away from the premises as instructed, i didn't want it to go to the ground i wanted him out by the main road.

By now blue lights could be seen in the distance. Someone had called the police. The guy thunders way from us now, as his target was spotted legging it past us while we were in the ruck. His target escaped and the bear calmed down. All the while my brain is preparing myself for a thump to the nose, i mean of all people, did i have to be hit by someone blatantly bigger than me? But i was proud to say i overcome the fear in a split second.

Remember, I'm not a fighter, i was a Office Manager in my last job, my last scrap was when i was a kid. So it's more challenging for me, then it is for dude who street fight like everyweek as standard after a beer and Kebab.

Later on the guy apologized, and shook hands with my colleague, i was standing right next to him waiting for a quick head butt to be planted and ready to pounce if so...it didn't happen.

Now, the thing is about the night. The one thing that will always stick with me. Is that there was a team of about what 10 doorstaff overall? and the only two trying to stop this monster was me and the other guy. I actually saw the others look on in fear, they later laughed and joked about how they were bricking it. Ok, fair enough. I was fucking bricking it too, I'm sorry I'm not a fighter and this guy was huge, I'm not stupid.

I needed to face someone like this early on, get it out of the way. But my point is, they could have stood around for back up. No one else was kicking off, most of the crowd had ran, only the guys friends remained. But the door staff were visibly shook, scared and weren't even close to help.

I am very very lucky i didn't get a Hulk sized fist in the kisser. It was coming, but because i wouldn't get into a fight unless i had to defend myself or my colleague it didn't happen. Last night was easily the closest I'd been to a whack. I was just a bit disappointed more experienced door staff than me were standing around looking, scared. And me, the new boy was right in there trying to restrain the beast. I guess different areas have different ways of working. And i may be back there next week...will i go? fuck yeah.

I needed to be challenged with an opponent who was bigger, and more intimidating than me to see how i reacted. I'm not even gonna lie, my gut was screaming "walk the other way Dee" there was many a corner, or alley way i could have slipped down, walked round the back of the club and stood twiddling my thumbs, whistling a bird morning song, while the ruckas kicked off elsewhere. Which is the route i think a few of the other Wussies i worked with took. But i was there, ready to get popped, in the thick of it...well done me....

I was the new boy from way out of town and i saw how another crew works, i think it's going to be good to stay with the people you know, you can be sure of. But i liked the challenge in a way. It almost felt like the big guy was there to test me, to see if I'd break.

I walked to my car the rain still screaming down. I was soaked through. I reflected on the night for a few minutes as the engine heated my drenched body up. I wiped my face of the rain, and decided to myself...i love this job. Started my engine and headed off for the long journey back home.

Entry Number Eleven: "You Don't Know Me"

2007-11-21T06:47:00.000Z

It's official, I've been given four regular days at the biggest bar in my town...yip yip yeeeeeee....this is good. Very good. Basically tonight Dean had his Godfather like hawky eyes on me all night. When i arrived he was plonked at a table in the bar, long doorman jacket on, surrounded by about seven people. His face illuminated a cool blue from his hi tech laptop. He looked like the big man, big business.

The night, quiet, the usual, hats off please, my Sweet barmaidy was in, i haven't got in there yet, but with the regular days at what will now be my regular bar which is called "Extra" now established, i can craft a cunning plan to bag her like shopping. She is extremely pretty, I'm also starting to get an eye for the head bar lady. I don't know her name but she showed me about first night, and seems to be the most friendly, i like her. These are important issues, and they must and will be resolved.

Yvonne, Jelly bean came down with her best friend, and her best friends sister who was suprisingly attractive, never seen her before. It was Yvonnes best friends Birthday, they were out to drink much alcho pop, and sweet liqueur. Tonight was like an unofficial tester night from the boss. He was there, it was only me patrolling, someone else hadn't turned up. I had to do good. Yvonne bouncing around drunk screaming my name had me wanting to retract into my leather coat turtle style in shame, but she wasn't too bad. She was just more over excited to see my "Yellow Arm band" With my face in it. She plucked and probed at it strapped around my arm like a bad wart or spot. She was fascinated.

A group of ladies in their mid 30's were having a flirt with the big hunky doorman...me. And they also gave a good review to Dean for me which i appreciated.

Overall another quiet night ..... until .....

Always happens right near the end of the night, makes sense i suppose, the booze would have been flowing. This Head bar lady, i will find out her name. Casually walked past me as i was staring into space and said "give Erwin a hand if he needs it Dee" in a cool calm manner. I turned my head expecting to see Erwin having trouble with some plates or a balancing a few difficult beer glasses, i mean the manner in which she dropped it "oh, give Erwin a hand if he needs it Dee" I turn my head and Erwin is bear hugging an Asian guy from behind piling him through the bar and out the doors...BANG....i get outside to see the guy thrown to the floor but protected by Erwin. The guy touched down in a nice puddle that innocently reflected the orange street lights before his body destroyed it.

Outside Dean is there trying to diffuse the situation. Erwin and the Guy are going at it. "You don't know who i am, or who i know blood, i swear" The guy cries "You don't know who i know" This seems to be a common verbal dart thrown I'm seeing. Some kind of variant on it. I swear you don't know who i know. Etc. Now...Dean is a fighter. And this guy was going at Dean hard. I'm standing next to Dean, ready for someone to throw a quick fist and it all to start kicking off. I'm trying to read this guys face who is explaining about who his family knows and this and that to dean, and I'm twitching ready for something to jump off. Not really wanting it to but there, ready and present if it did. This is my job. This is why the pay is good. One of the guys friends emerges from the shadows, a lanky black fella with a baseball cap, holding a blue carrier. "Ey what's going on here man" he grumbles in an African accent. I walk him away from the situation...

Inside my stomach all i felt was a feeling of letting my natural responses happen if it kicked off there and then. I didn't feel fear, i felt the pulse of adrenalin work it's way through my body and i also felt...i could do with cross training. My current Martial Art is a grapping / locks and holds one. I don't know how to strike, and i will need to in this job, better now then never, so i am considering another striking art, Sundays. I will give this some serious thought tommorow and get the ball rolling with this...

For now though another night..each night gets closer to the big "pop off" as I've just this very second decided to call it. Let's have a nice big ugly ruck so i can get it done with huh? Oh yeah, the recommendation from the group of mid thirties ladies...they love me. That's always gotta be good for the boss to hear. So...Fucking Thumbs Up Innit. Onto tommorow, out of town.

Entry Number Ten: Please Remove Your Hat Madam

2007-11-20T10:31:00.000Z

And so this is it. A job offer i had today for a fairly good office position, i dumped like a steaming pile of cow dung, to become a doorman full time. Basically this is the dilly. The hours i work on the doors, and the hours i would work in the office would almost overlap! Basically I'd have two hours bloody sleep. Ridiculous Rodney. Ridicul-ASS. So no.

I went personally today to the offices of the job i was offered, turned it down, made some bullshit excuse and walked away from the building a full time doorman. No more office work for me. Risky, but someone who can get me work is the brother of one of my longest friends, so i think i made the right choice. So this is it...i have work for tomorrow, Wednesday, Friday and Saturday i'm now officially a full time doorman.

Tonight i was back in the same club i was in Saturday, except the tables and chairs were out, it was a quiet night and easy money son. Dean wasn't there, no one was beside the bar staff and a few people, so i was kind of wandering around like a Lemon at first, till one of the bar staff, the head i think came out and gave me a quick heads up. Stern face lady in her late thirties.

I came to realise fast, Dean has his own way of working, and it's very loose. Either he assumed i was an experienced door person because i LOOK the part...or, i don't know. But i wasn't told who to report to, what to do, where to do it...but i'm used to order in my pervious jobs, Doorwork is a bit more...well, once again...LOOSE... only way i can describe it.

Ok I've found my first real target, a bar woman, wow, she is unsurprisingly foreign, as i said with regards to the Bar staff in my townpreviously. Slovakian, Lithuanian, Polish, Kosovan, i will put money on the fact she ticks one of those boxes.

She was gorgeous, short brown hair in a ponytail. Immaculate face, almost china doll like, very subtle make up. Wow, my eyeballs were physically pulled from my head and stuck to her... if i can get regular work at this Bar then I'm onto her. Lemme find out her STATUS. I smell the sweet tang of human meat, i'm going in.

After being introduced to Yenno, a 6'5 lanky dark skinned Jamaican guy who was real friendly, gave me the heads up. We basically got going.

Only two incidents, well three if you include me being kissed on the lips by a gorgeous beauty who said i was too cute to be a doorman - as an incident. I was just standing there and she asked me to escort her to the ladies, i did so. Then she explained how she was from out of town, looking where to go next, i suggested the spots i'd be in if i wasn't working and she went to check them out.

She was stunning, like a model. Black girl, nice and short, but the lift underneath the scarf and big coat she was wearing suggested breastage. She planted a kiss on my lips and called me Handsome. "Too cute to be a doorman" well my little pixie, i would agree.

Theres a no hats policy, this applies to all. Not just black fellas in hoodies or baseball caps bowling around. In my eyes, no hats means no hats. One or two people genuinely forgot. A polite motion to their head and it's removed. But this one lady who reminded me of a grand 1940's actress. You know the ones, they have the long black gloves and those long tubes with a cigarette on the end, those kind of glamorous ladies. Flossy flossy. Well, she was sitting with a short red faced bald guy and i had to do it...in fact Yenno my partner for the night thought it would be amusing to see how i handled this number...over i bop...

"Hi sorry to interrupt, would you be able to remove your hat please madam" I ask with a smile. She places her hands on her big furry superstar hat "but my hair is greasy" she says "I understand, but rules are rules" She looks up at me laughs, and continues drinking. Her eyes slowly rise to meet mine again... I'm still standing there looking.

Her, i assume, husband stands up, all 5'2 of him. Face beetroot from the no doubt fine drinks they were consuming. "You must be having a laugh, this is Britain mate" he blurts.
Now, um, I'm not sure what country we both happen to currently be living in has anything to do with taking your hat off in a bar, but he wanted to inform me all the same. After a few more requests, and my looming presence over their table like a big rooted black statue, they got up and left. "Tell your manager he's a fucking cunt" the man said, as his wife peacocked out the doors. Mumbling words to the effect of "we wont be back again" or something...the words care less came to mind...

There's a famous tramp around our town, he always begs begs begs. Not the usual dejected head down sitting outside Debenhams with a cup asking for change begging. I'm talking full on walking up to people and asking for two, three quid. Right in their face. Now, this dudes been doing this for as long as I've lived in the town. It's shameful, embarrassing, and i wasn't up for it happening on my shift. I'm trying to make a good impression. Me walking over to the table he was begging at was enough.

Baseball cap, long dreadlocks, the same clothes, and a guitar on his back, he saw me and walked off the other way without question. I told the table to tell me if he come back and I'll throw him out so fast he'll travel actually fucking forward through time...of course, i didn't say that exactly, but my words assured them. He also stank very strongly of urine.

Near the end of the night a chubby blonde girl ran over to us "theres an argument over there" we were so bored out of our brains, it's a monday night, we switched off a bit, there couldn't have been more than fifteen people in by the end of the night. We walked over and a tall old dude who was apparently a doorman was mouthing off toward two younger lads. One was leaving anyway, i walked him out slowly while the older men at the bar continued the verbal dagger throwing. Once outside Yenno spoke first...

"First things first, there's CCTV right there" He pointed toward the beedy camera, peeping at the six of us. The two lads actioned toward the older guys, but i opened both arms and the impression of a barrier was enough for them. Beer and bad breath spoke to me close up, too close...i backed him off and reasoned with him, but not within earshot of the other two older men. Me and Yenno were ready for a kick off.

The blah blah continued as they got into the taxi. One of the boys, the baseball capped one was a little too close to me for my liking, i have a zone, a head butt zone i call it, and he was in it. But no spice to this one, the lads got into a waiting taxi...apparently one of the older guys is gonna get his throat cut...the taxi drove off....

A very quiet night, i already decided i like the hustle and bustle of that Saturday night. But the cash I've made for just standing about to be honest is silly. Good good money. Tommorow I'm back in the same place again. Plonked. Wednesday should be interesting. I'm out of town, so i have to drive there, and I'm shit with maps and shit. I will have to see if i can borrow one of these new fangled Tom Tom Gizmos the boffins have constructed for the Automobile. Then I'm somewhere else outside of town Friday and sat...

Within two weeks of door work Erwin got beaten to the floor by four guys ashtrayed and a bop in the nose. Now i don't want this, but, i want to know how i react when i get down and dirty, time will tell.

Entry Number Nine: Sorry Glover

2007-11-18T20:52:00.001Z

I'm sitting watching X Factor in me boxers, a nice healthy Kebab in front of me. Just about to get going on the Booze to get ready for tonights mayhem. It was my leaving do and I'd invited all my old work lot down who live out of town, for some enjoyable alcoholic beverages. So I'm glued to the screen as normal when X-Factor is on...

My phone rings...It's Dean...the Top Dog Doorman with the handshake from last night, calling me?!?!? so soon...

"Dee, it's Dean" says the smooth voice "Ah yes Bruv you cool?" i blurt curious "Yeah i need you tonight, get down here" I pause for two seconds, my brain goes through one thousand thoughts calculations scenarios and then my mouth automatically answers "No problem boss" "ASAP Dee" He says cooly "Yes, can you give me forty five mins?" I ask "Right, make sure you're suited and booted all black alright?" "Yeh no problem Dean, I'll be there, thanks man" Phone clicks, He's gone...

I sit still, frozen, mouth open, Kebab meat falling from my gaping jaw in slow motion. It wasn't fear, but it was definitely unprepared-ness-ness that i felt...the feeling lasted for all of two seconds. I shot up rummaged through my draw for my black tie, trousers, coat and i was in the car.

I made good time, and only got there a few minutes after i said to Dean i would. After all it was last minute, he'd understand. "You're late, get over the road, you're needed at Sherry (A Club) Erwin is on the door" Erwin is the big dude with the baseball cap i met the day before.

Now during the drive down, when walking from the car park through the icy cold town centre lit up late, to approaching the bar, my mind was buzzing, just buzzing over with how to throw a good punch, how to drop a good tackle on some motherfucker. It's been a while. Also i was thinking about the basics, how to greet everyone else, was i honestly really ready...of course not. But I'd made an impression on Dean, he had actually called me the next day, and i had to dump everyone coming down to meet me unfortunately.

In all reality it was a no brainer, there was no way i could turn this one down. It was an actual floating Diamond in front of me...and it was priceless...this was it, my first real night as a Doorman.

I walked up to Sherry, a basic size bar, more a stop off point between two of the bigger bars in town. It was pretty much empty. Erwin greeted me with a big smile on his friendly round head and we shook. "This is it dude, here we go" Erwin gave me some on the Job training. Some basic holds, some basic locks, the dress policy, etc etc . "Be confident big man, thats all you need, confidence from there on in, it's in the hands of God" God...great. God has his off days with me so i can't always rely on that old boy. I looked down at my fists. "I'll rely on them badboys first" i thought quietly.

The girls. So so so many girls. The bars/clubs in the town have mostly Lithuanian, Slovakian, Kosovan and Polish barmaids. I don't know why or how, but they all seem to look stupidly pretty. Tonight was no exception. A tall girl, face depressingly stunning, long neat blonde hair, and a backside from actual actual heaven. She floated past surrounded by a warm shimmeting glow of perfection. Gave a big hug to Erwin and a smile to me.

I saw the girls from work I'd invited down from out of town, i hadn't really had a chance to tell anyone i can't make my own leaving do, one of them walked past, and double taked..."Dee!" she said, she looked very very pretty, all blonded up, black figure hugging shorts. Big baby eyes. I had been trying to get with her on and off at my old job for a while but she has a lot of men on her case and fuck that shit. Not for me, we are good friends though. She's very young (compared to me)

After it was established i wouldn't actually be turning up to my own leaving do the girls made their own arrangements in town. I later let them in although one of them looked underage and had no I.D. Her blatantly underage face looking up at me, black make up rich on her pleading eyes. I motioned them in. Erwin saw i knew them and didn't say a word, just smiled knowingly. First night abusing the system already.

Lots of pretty girls bouncing around town and passing through our little bar. One girl in particular, she was Lutonian and extremely pretty, short thing, looked like Christina Aguelera flirted with me all night. In front of her boyfriend like. Most uncomfortable i must say.
She kept popping outside giggling like a wind up toy, standing next to me for hugs, speakin' "rasta" to try and impress me, generally being a great blonde, plucked from the Default Blonde book. She was brilliant, if she wasn't with her boyfriend i would have stepped up the flirt and met with the young lady at another time for tea and cakes, but that didn't feel professional on my first night on the doors but she was so cute, like a perfect little package. She was 22 as well nice age, black jeans...tight. Hmmmm, perhaps i SHOULD have taken her information for future research. Balls.

After about thirty minutes i was settled in. The freezing cold biting at us but the sight of virtually naked ladies strutting through town in packs was enough to keep the smiles on our faces. The punters coming in were no trouble at all. A few young faces who needed I.D. couple of trainer checks, one search, no problems whatsoever. A Drunk guy in a wheelchair was the only fella to give us a bit of mouth near the end of the night as he left. "S'fuckin shit in thEre anD DooRStaff arE A WasTE Of tiMe" He slurred. We both loked at him in silece..."Have a good night sir" i said back smiling, he grumbled to himself as he wheeled off. "That was an easy night for you Dee, which some Doormen like, some dont. But now? we go over to Extra, Deans domain"

Erwin was cool the whole night, kept me calm, very friendly, and I'm lucky he was on the doors with me for my very first job. Some of his pretty Slovakian friends invited me over for breakfast the next day, one short one with Brown hair caught my eye, but apparently most of these girls are Deans...so i think I'll sit back and wait, no rush, i can control my Dick. I don't fancy getting actually Karate Kicked by my own boss on the first day.

The standard introduction of meeting the Doormen took place. Within minutes Dean took me aside from Erwin and introduced me to a large white bro, i forgot his name completely, looked in his forties, a thin goatee and large wall of a forehead. He basically told me where to stand and what area to patrol for the next three to four hours and that was it. Off i was...real indoor bouncing, no one by my side, the bar packed. People bumping, up close, eyeing me, smiling at me, i was the security in the club for that little patch i was plonked in.

Now 'Extra' was heaving, i mean packed to the brim, I'm bad with head counts but i wouldn't have been shocked if the number was over five hundred tonight. It can hold a thousand people when the other rooms are opened. There were about five of us on the floors.

And so it began. My first interaction... one guy in a grey shirt spiky hair and deep bags under his eyes, youngish dopey face was piling through the crowd. Bumping them aside like bowling pins. Leaving a trail of confused and offended faces in his way, "I'm not 'avin that" i thought to myself in my best Micheal Cain. i gently approached him, and asked him to go easy with the bumping and have a good night. He smiled, genuinely drunk out of his tree but not enough to eject...in my baby like judgement anyway. I let him go on his way, he sobered up near the end of the night fine. My first potential problem. I loved, the responsibility.

A row where a woman pushed a short Asian man, i couldn't hear what was going on but i was in there like a bee...no, a large Wasp...running. Another Doorman was there by the time i got there, the situation was handled.

My eyes flicked through the crowd all night, i was there, this was it. From the Office to the Doors...or dance floor in this case but you get the picture I'm going with here. I was getting my "Arnie On" looking at faces as advised by Erwin and Eddie, reading situations and besides some really entertaining dancing by a mixed race guy who was giving it some. A large portion of the night was trouble free, it was playing my kind of Music as well, which was always good. I was silent though, didn't even bop my head.

I saw some Doormen really going for it dancing in a bar Eddie took me around yesterday. On the stairs in their bright green jackets both dancing with the crowd. Already i know that's not how I'm going to work. Personal choice. I'm very friendly, i lost count of the amount of times i got offered a hand to shake, even a drink by some guy....hmmmmmm....

Anyways I love having a little chat with the people. But I'm not lifting both hands up dancing like a physical prick while I'm working, it will get my head out of the zone, it doesn't look friggin right, busting a groove on the dance floor as a doorman? i feel it's un professional but most of all, it makes you look too easy. To happy and too "off the job in hand" someone could take advantage of that.

Nah, just a very subtle head nod for me if that, besides that I'm planted on the spot occasionally smiling, or nodding in acknowledgement if i get eye contact with a harmless raver but besides that, I'm there for a reason...and Dean was zipping about all night watching me too.

I was loving it, in my element, no fear whatsoever. I'm human, i could have gone into this shaking like Scooby Doo. I'm not a fighter, just a big guy who can get down in the dirt if i need to. But i could have gone either way with nerves i guess. But i was loving this, good night...
Until...

Three Black guys in the corner who initially were just very drunk getting a bit over excited but generally having a good time kicked off. I spotted them earlier, and had one eye on them for most of the night, they were doing nothing but having fun until i heard shouting. ALARM BELLS...my brain ticks into gear, Adrenalin pumps through my body i flick my head around and one of the Doormen, once again i forget his name, Tall lanky Asian was trying to reason with one of the bigger guys, the oldest of the three, in his forties, maybe fifties. All i saw was him trying to lead him out but the guy not leaving.

I asked my collegue if he was cool? "You good brother?" Sean Kingston singing in the background masked his response, but it looked like a yes. I didn't want to intrude, i walked away as to not seem like i didn't have faith in him to do his job, a kind of respect but i got it wrong...whoops "Oi!! Oi!!!" he pleaded, obviously the situation which didn't look too bad needed a second hand, to be fair the old man wasn't budging. My man wanted him out? Then as far as i was concerned, he was gone.

I placed my hand on his lower back and applied pressure to indicate movement, his movement, out of the bar. I asked him to leave...his smaller partner in crime looked at me in disappointment. An almost "come on black man what are you doing to your own people" kind of look. Sorry, fuck actual that. What I'm doing is getting payed to Eject your Dad, Uncle or older best friend brother was my "non verbal" response. He wouldn't leave, boom, i put my weight behind the fella and walked him with the Lanky doorman helping me. All the time this old mans animated face screaming at me "Don't push me, I'm leaving I'm leaving" He looked like Danny Glover......Danny Glover? lethal weapon??? He was 6ft something and built, just had an ageing face. This wasn't some shuddering feeble old boy.

Once we got near to the front door, i stepped back into my zone. I could have right then got a head butt, a punch from his buddies or anything. I only thought about this after the event. I never found out what the old man did. It wasn't my job to ask.

Some entertaining dancing by very drunk White people, to which i felt myself smiling at, and i think even busting a small giggle to and that was pretty much it. The perks are definately the views. Being sober in that environment, you do appreciate the particularly finer looking ladies. Once I'm settled in, I'm gonna switch my flirt game up. I got more than a few friendly glances from the ladies in there...but yeh that was it........*long pause*..............UNTIL

I look down on the dance floor and Dean was arguing with a short but fat and stocky Black dude. I piled through the Dancefloor, just to make sure my presence was known, Dean knew i was there. But Dean can handle himself. I placed a hand on the Black guys fleshy back and he lashed out at me without looking who i was or what i was doing, i ducked the open hand slap and pushed.

A what looked like FURIOUS dean dragged the guy out by the actual fat around his neck it looked like and that was that...i walked off, to my little spot in the middle, and that was it. I now know i have no fear of getting in there, in the meat of the sandwich. I'd be a pretty shit doorman if i did have the fear though, being honest. But i had to know.

I met up with the girls i initially invited out later and that was pretty much the end of my night. Dean signalled me over "Go home now Dan" i signed out, shook his hand and he said "I will give you a call tommorow Dee" smiled and gave me a thumbs up. I think i did good for my first night. I got the seal of approval.

It's also worth noting the Lanky Asian dude i helped out verbally thanked me for backing him up and bought me a J20 later on in the night. So the first small respect level was there. I in turn of course now expect him to have my back, which as I'm learning fast, will be as standard. I am the new boy remember.

I didn't get any or ask about money. I'm not desperate for it right now, i will give it a week, and then politely ask. Right now i feel I'm proving myself. And I'm fine with that.
How did i feel, my first night of Doorwork? I loved it. So I've got in the thick with a few confrontations, could have got hit. Now all i need to do is get hit.

I haven't been hit in a long long time and that was only once, and i don't fight. I keep myself to myself so, the question remains, do i have a beautiful pretty glass jaw, or an ugly fucking brick and steel monstrosity of alower face... time will tell...

Dean wants me on the doors tommorow night...maybe I'll find out then? As i type this my phone is in front of me, and my suits and boots ready...

Entry Number Eight: White Pub

2007-11-18T19:52:00.000Z

This is my unofficial first night. What did i think about all this then? I think i haven't even begun to get a grasp of what this is all going to involve. I took along a girl from my old work with me who knows the doorman who i was going to be with for the night, Eddie, she ended up by my side as part of the tour as well. She reminds me of a jelly bean, thats had it's excitement levels wound up so much, it can't stand still. Imagine a hyper active wasp stuck inside a jelly bean, zipping around inside it...that's similar to Yvonne.

So's... after finding the location, a back street pub/bar we step out into the evil cold and head for the back street drinker. My mind is cool, and calm, i think because I'm so comfortable with the envioronment that helps. I'm out three four nights a week normally, when I'm in my single phases, where i 'ave no bird, I'm out three four nights raving. Not sure why, trying to desperately cram in all my last days of dancing before 30? Sometimes it all seems so sad.

I ask Yvonne if this is a black / white / asian / pub. She don't know, i walk in, i'm the only black face in there, country music is playing and it's kareoke night.... it's not an Asian pub. Was a friendly atmosphere, all obviously regulars, you could tell. I'm not a pub person, i can count on both hands the amount of times I've been in a pub. I can't really explain why, i just don't like the environment. The closed in cage feeling if something kicks off. The regulars, i don't know, hard to explain, marmite.

We had a walk around the pub, it was fairly large compared to pubs I'd been in before, all the while Eddie was explaining to me about face expressions, spotting people in a crowd, being aware, where to find cocaine residue...it was there as he predicted. To be honest, it was perfect. Like hands on job experience. The whole course / exam thing i done, bless it, was useless. I mean to be there, feel it, be ready to pounce if needed...and advice from someone who's actually been there, been through it. I wish I'd bought along some thick rimmed nerd spectacles and a note book, serious, this stuff i was being told was gold.

A 6'4 dude walks in with a baseball cap, chubby white guy, towering. Eddie introduces him, Erwin. This guy was top. Friendly, doorman of 6 years, we walked around the pub speaking for a good two hours straight. About taking a punch, about rapport with people, who to work for who not to work for, basic arm locks and holds. Of which i need to learn before i even start on my own. I realised i was never taught how to hold someone? and I'm a qualified doorman? If it kicked off i had no idea how to get someone physically away from me. How could i not know this yet have my badge? It's my job to know how to eject people if needs be, yet i was never taught in my training..how to eject people. I can throw some good punches but i need to know more than being able to scrap. None of this i know...

As a Doorman, and remember these people in the pub had no clue this was my first night, you see the respect you get. To be fair, it was a nice pub, people friendly, very drunk havin' a laugh. I need to get in there with the dirt of it. I need to get hit, i haven't been hit for a long long long time. I'm not a fighter i don't fight. I'm just a big dude. But Erwin seemed cool, he's now manager of probably the biggest bar in town. But it all seemed very networky. Everyone knew everyone else.

My disadvantage in all this is that I'm a guy whos kept myself to myself. I have no reputation, cos i don't do dirt. I'm 5'11, about 15 stone, tattoos the works. I look like I'm a nasty bastard, but i ain't. I'm a family man who needs some extra money legally. Like good money quick. Doorwork. Soon I'm gonna be known, i accept that as a standard procedure but i ain't looking forward to having to watch my back outside of work but...i kind of knew all this was coming...
So, the pub closes, night ends. Besides one particularly lary gent arguing with his girl me and Eddie sorted peacefully, and a big bald man falling off his stool, aided by the fun juice he was consuming like there was no more on earth. It was a quiet night. Oh yeh, skinny man, trying to pinch Eddies man boobs...that was it.

We all got in the warmth of my baby, and drove down to the main town. It's November and very cold. It was a Friday night but as Thursday is the new Friday, Xmas is coming, and it's cold enough to freeze Satans dinkle, no one is out. The bar we went to, one of the bar staff i had a "fing" wiv for a while, she wasn't there. God damn it i wanted her to see me shine!!! They had completely changed it since i was last there. The HipHop room i think has gone, the inside was just all cut out into one big club. Green and purple, lazer lights washed over us, and big looming pictures of painted women and the clubs logo lined the walls. It was fairly empty for such a huge club, and for a Friday night.

I got introduced to a man who is possibly the tallest human being I've ever seen in my life, African dude, spikes in his hair, friendly warm smile, and a big broad face. I give him daps all the time when i was out raving, now, being led round by Eddie. I'm becoming part of the whole doorman team for my town. It's scary, as well as fucking exciting... all the while the excited Jelly Bean? remember her? is tagging along. Loving being taken on a tour by two big hunks of actual corned beef. Lucky girl.

We then went to my regular bar, my home, I'm here three nights a week, four nights sometimes. Theres a friendly, but very very rough, Asian dude on the doors i bin speaking to about my license for months now. He gave me a knowing smile and handshake when he saw me with Eddie. We both mentally said to each other "finally" many a drunk night I've stumbled out there to him complaining that my license is takin so long. When in reality, compared to stories of 6 months, 4 months, i got mine quick time.

I saw all my little girlies i dance with, who all knew i was gonna be on the doors soon. And it felt nice. I was the man. I'm sorry, I'm only writing as i feel. It felt nice brother / and or sister, it felt nice. Once again Eddie told me what to look for, how to get a feel for things, judge people. My little regular, i know like the back of my hand, so I'm comfortable there. But they have about five six door staff a night as theres always, ALWAYS fights there.

One night me and my crew of gangster rappers saw six scraps in one night. Including watching the whole bar duck as a spinning wineglass flew though the air like a graceful swan...that's spinning. It's a rough bar to go to three nights a week but I've never ever had any trouble. In fact, I've never had any trouble in my life besides what two occasions, which is what I'm concerned about. Martial arts three nights a week doesn't count for anything really, lets be fair, of course it's better to know some than nothing, but...on the street?

Onto another bar, very very popular mostly all white bar. Plays cheesy pop music and eighties rubbish. The poor short spiky haired white guy on the doors hugging his mug of cocoa looked like he'd had enough to be honest. Long night I'm guessing. Bumped into a few of Eddies mates had a look around and got a feel again for the people. It is worth noting that the whole night i didn't even pay attention to the good looking girls, my main concern was what where when and who to do if and when it all kicked off, even though officially it wasn't my shift. Being honest all of this was invaluable and Eddie didn't have to do it.

Then on to the biggest bar in the town, by far the most popular besides my regular. It is always heaving in there, tonight was no exception. The layout is huuge, theres a sit down restaurant area too. And this place regularly has around 10 doorman throughout the bar, just to give you an indication of the size.

We marched through the throng to a quiet corner to meet Dean. This guy has a reputation throughout Luton as the main Doorman to go to. He's been on the doors for about twenty years, is a former pro Karate Champion, and you can see the battle written all over his face. His upper body was as wide as fucking jumbo jet wings. But he was still small enough to be zippy and quick on his feet. While of course, you're getting popped in the nose and or teeth area.

I'd heard about him before I'd even started any kind of Doorwork, or applying for doorwork. He was about 5'6 a thin black buzz of hair, and a battered face but not enough to deter the several ladies that were surrounding him as he consumed some kind of fruit and then shot game. His handshake almost broke my hand, it was like an Iron Clamp...that's the thing i will always remember about him. Even though i towered over him, my handshake must have been about as solid as a wet weed, i wasn't expecting that kind of grip. It said 'Top Dog' "you have a license big man?" He asked me off the bat. I nodded. He reached into his pocket and passed me a phone. I put my digits in, he missed called me, and there it was..i now had the Top Dog of Lutons Number. I wasn't sure what to do with it, when to call it or what to say...but i would soon, very soon. Find out.

After a short introduction to all the doormen on the doors that was it, the end of my Mini Tour. Eddie did not have to do this but he did, and i respect him for it. I had so much information in my head from the night, so much buzzing so many questions but i had time to absorb it. Take it in, sit on it, soak in it, cook it, roast it, simmer it and lie back then start on the doors in a few weeks, or a week, once I'd got some more proper training right? Wrong.

Entry Number Seven: On The Doors Tonight?

2007-11-16T07:09:00.000Z

I'm on the doors tonight. Well, kind of. The Doorman dude at work, Eddie, offered to show me the ropes, said i could stand with him for an hour on the doors of a pub where he bounces on a Friday night.

At the time of writing, it's freezing, above the possible dangers, confrontations and other violent, bloody scenarios. All i can think of at the moment is my balls freezing off into icy ornaments for some ones table. If i may say so, it is cold as a mother fucker at the moment. My flat mate is trying to grow icicles from the ceiling here, and it's working, so i know how cold it's going to be outside.

I have a big leather coat, but it's got no buttons on it, but i can't afford to buy a coat at the moment, tonight not only is it my first night on the doors in any capacity, it's also the night i might be taking out a lovely lady from work. So money is not an option. There's none there. Anyway it should be an interesting experience tonight if it all actually happens.

Was "webbing" for an agency to join in my town, and i think I've found one, I've heard a lot of good things about them, and I'm keen to get going. I've got several job offers happening at the moment but all of these are temporary things until i can do doorwork full time. I don't want to be sitting behind a desk no more. I wanna touch people, i want to feel humanity. So...

My next steps are finishing off this xbox game, shaving, bopping to work for a half day (job interview for some non door related shit) , then getting ready for tonight. I have a big feeling inside of a big stinking let down happening, but what the fuck, i don't know what I'm expecting, or what i want to happen really. I'm just goin in 'ead first and closing my eyes.

Of course my non existant fans.. i will report all tommorow...

Blap Blap

Entry Number Six: Licence Granted!

2007-11-14T09:16:00.000Z

Case status Licence Granted

Your application has been at this stage since 2007-11-13

(1 working days ago).
A letter confirming that your licence application has been successful has been dispatched on the above date. This letter confirms the sector and role for which you are licensed, together with the expiry date and conditions of the licence.
Front line licence holders receive a licence card, and this card will be dispatched separately by post two working days after the above date

-------------------------------------

Yahooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Yahooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Yahooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Yup yup yup. I h ad a weird dream, i had a weird dream. I dreamt that my licence arrived in the post. I ripped it open like a fat kid ripping open a Mars Bar packet... and it contained my licence, except at the top, it had the name of one my best friends, instead of mine. My heart sank...

It was this dream that inspired me to wake up and log on to the SIA web site to see the above beauty. Oh man, this feels good. So...how long now then. What happens now. Well, first, most important thing, is a BOOZE FUELLED NIGHT OUT TO CELEBRATE WOOP WOOP!

Then i need to phsycally hold the bastard in my hands. Smell that plastic, savour that shit. Then after that find out how i go about getting work and getting on the doors.

I was speaking to one of the young lads at work who's uncle is head doorman of a local club/bar very popular in my town. He passed me this Head Doormans mobile, but then proceeded to tell me stories of this gent ripping peoples lips off and punching them in the nose and claiming self defense...

I thought to myself "oh, thats a bit nasty innit" realising, this is the world I'm entering. I won't stoop to those levels though. In a way i might be to much of a good guy for doorwork. Just cos I'm just off 6 foot and a good old weight, doesn't mean i have that instinct or... rip off someones lip-factor thats needed. We shall see...

First things first...i need to sort out work, where to get it, and how to get it. There is a doorman at work I'm gonna have a chat to today. Will fill you in on the convo...

Er....ah yeh....Yahoooooooooooooooeeeey woop woop. Ahem ..

Thank you

Entry Number Five: Criminal Bastard

2007-11-10T09:15:00.000Z

Drum roll....drrrrrrrrrrrrrrr. It's the big wait now my friends, this is it. I knew i was clean, i'm a good boy. This is where i currently stand in the application process:

Criminality Check Completed >> Licence Granted >> Licence Refused

So it is literally sitting and waiting now, which at the time of writing, should be about ten days. I will be honest, as much as i want to moan and groan, the time has passed quickly. Life has crept in in the meantime, and I've just got on with shit.

Funnily enough, i saw the same doorman in the club i go to without his badge again. We crossed glances for a second time, much like two wild west gunslingers walking past each other in a dusty town. Onlookers hurrying their frightened children along. The question is...who will draw first? Not me.

My plan for getting work for Christmas is looking good. I now need to start seeing about how to get work, where to go. In fact I'm gonna whip out that Doorman book i was reading through a few months ago, as the time is fast approaching.

I still get my "Arnie On" in the clubs. Scanning the crowd in red vision like the Terminator. Seeing where things are kicking off, potential bust ups. I just wanna get hands on in there now.

So, this is it, the wait for that final stage on the SIA web site checklist to be highlighted in red...

then it all starts.

Entry Number Four: We're Off!...well six weeks off.

2007-10-24T08:25:00.000+01:00

Your application has been at this stage since 2007-10-23 (1 working days ago).

Your application form has been checked, and found to be complete. It is now being processed, and for a non-complex application (one without qualification, identification, CRB or criminality issues) it will currently take approximately six weeks from the date above for a licensing decision to be made.

You will receive a confirmation letter together with your returned documents within the next two weeks. Please do not chase your documents unless this time frame is exceeded.
-------
Um, i think i have something to say at this point...um, Yahoo? no no , um YAHOOOOOOOOOOO....ok, so this is the first stage done, fine fine . It's not over yet, i now have to wait the full six weeks. But at least the first hurdle is done, thank the sweet lord above perched on his golden throne surrounded by angels and flowers the first hurdle is done!! I'm clean as Daz so there will be no problems with the criminal check. The remaining stages are...Qualification Check Passed, CRB Disclosure Requested, CRB Disclosure Received, Criminality Check Completed, License Granted, or License Refused

So now it's just literally sitting back, plonking my feet up and waiting. Or, should it say...it's just literally working in a soul destroying pig awful job, crying alone in the toilets because of the sheer amount of dignity stripped from me every night...and waiting. I've actually applied for something else in the meantime in the security industry i am hoping i will get until my license arrives, and I'm excited about that too. But getting my doorman license is the real baby.

I saw a doorman parading around without a license in his arm band last night at my local "dancing venue" Short fella, but stocky. I was going to ask him where his license was, but, i had been drinking. And something told me, the convo would start with my question and end with me standing in front of the club protesting to the Doormen. I was genuinely curious, because it's actually illegal. But "whatever" as the kids would say...whatever man, he can deal with any issues that particular chestnut might bring. Maybe he forgot it....? I LOVE YOU brother, and i know you forgot that shit...

I still watch the clubs now with a much more attentive eye then i ever did before. This is when i'm supposed to be out having fun remember. It's strange, and when you watch you see loads of potential kick offs, small arguments bubbling, and people to really watch for but still no matter what. I need to get in there, get my hands in there and take a few smacks, abuse to really know how i will feel about this. To be perfectly bloody honest, i can't wait.

Due to my work commitments, my martial arts training has gone down to once a week, which i wanted to increase the final weeks before I'm actually on the doors. Not that a quick burst of slightly more training than before will make me invincible, but at least I'll feel "oiled" for when something occurs right? Back soon...need that confrimation letter now, and then? the sweet plastic.

Entry Number Three: Documents boy, Documents.

2007-10-12T22:35:00.000+01:00

Okey dokey, so's i get's the returned application and Documents, rip open the envelope and since Oct 1st they require all supporting Documents other than the main ones (Passport etc, Drivers license) to have both the name and or address on both. Ok, this is fine, but, i sent mine before thatd ate, and knew nothing of this, so...there was no way i would have known this change, so they sent all my stuff back. Bitches.

But i smiled, bit my lip, triple checked my application form, holding an enormous comedic magnifying glass, and a comb which had teeth of the finest variety. I've now sent everything off for the second time. The women behind the counter of the post office, looked back at me bored as she stuck the recorded delivery sticker on the envelope, and slung it on the pile. She was holding my very future in my hands. The way she threw it on the pile with the rest of the recorded deliv's...heartless COW.

So the whole waiting shit starts again. This isn't even funny, in fact I DON'T EVEN WANT TO BE A DOORMAN NOW...sigh, thats not true. Report back when they tell me the next fuck up i made on my application. Seeya.

Entry Number Two: Rejected

2007-10-07T21:42:00.000+01:00

I had a chat with a bouncer last night in my regular club, i was completely smashed at the time, drunk off my balls, and high as the very gates of heaven themself. I remember the exchange going something like this

"When ahm i GOnna Get MY LICence MaaaAn, i BEEN WAITIN For aaages bruv"
He said..."you're gonna be waiting about four months my friend"

I then continued to look around for my friends i thought i'd lost, drunk, paranoid, at this point i could have been walking on another planet. But that conversation made me want to check up, even at this early stage on the progress of it all, so i did.

Since i've sent it, all i've been thinking about pretty much is that day...when it arrives. The sweet sweet moment of the biggest career switch up of my life. I look at the flourecent Licence card holders on the arms when i'm out, and the awe. I need one...

So to log on to the SIA just now, just to see how far i'm getting, and to read this:

Your application form has been checked, and rejected as it is incomplete. You will receive a confirmation letter indicating the incomplete section / reason for rejection, together with your returned documents within the next five days. Please do not chase your returned application form / documents unless this time frame is exceeded.

Not good my friends, not good at all. At the current time of writing there is a postal strike as well. So it's going to take about six days to even receive it all back, fill in the one part i've done wrong and send it all off again. For a breif second the stupidness of it all did make me think eff it. Seriously, but to be fair i've known from day one this whole process is going to take an age. I just kind of pathetically hoped you know, i might be one of those who actually gets it all sorted within the six weeks.

So yeah, i am currently as the kids would say "screwing" I need to see what i've done wrong, personally i think i've forgot to tick a box or something as i went over that form about five times before i sent it. I even kissed it good luck before i gave everything to the woman behind the counter at the post office. Very frustrating but i'll get there. I truly do get the feeling this is going to take the four five months everyone says...and i also don't think this is the last time i'm going to have everything sent back due to an "error"

I'm a fairly smart dude, and as i filled out the application i meticulously followed the "how to fill out the application" sheet word for word, so i am concerned as to what i've done wrong here, or if there's some other problem beyond a simple forgotten box etc. Ah well, when i find out i will pop back and Blog what the problem actually was. This was a knockback, to be honest, i wasn't expecting it.

Entry Number One: Why do it? The Exam, Application, Preparation and Boobs

2007-09-22T14:56:00.000+01:00

Why not? One day, sitting at work (customer services/call centre) with my telephone headpiece on, with an abusive customer giving it the usual. You get to thinking to yourself, no more my friend. No more. It really was as simple as that. I handed my notice in at my current job and thought, why not beat people up? be a doorman. Of course the whole process would take longer than i was expecting but that's why I'm here, thats why I'm sitting at my PC with my specs on, thinking...i should document this whole shit...I'm going to have some stories to tell in the future. I don't really to be honest want to 'beat people up' HOWEVER i would like to possibly throw a person, if the situation called for that said action.

Ok so I've done the exam, and passed, to be fair it wasn't challenging but you do have to pay attention. The stories of falling asleep in there? Hmmm, i don't know about that. I haven't been in a situation like that...as in, sitting up, paying attention to stuff...for a long time. If you want to pass it you will, simple as. But theres about 11 sections to plough through, and a lot of paper work to read through. It's multiple choice though, so I'm sure some bluff there way through. Me? i was class swot, sorry but i was passin' that bitch if it killed me.

Our trainer was great, a big jolly Welshman and he made the whole time we were there as entertaining as he could. It was only three of us. Myself, a stocky little Asian dude, and a slim smart looking Arab guy. We were all there to pass, sweet. I can imagine being in a class packed with apes and brain deads though, throwing pens, laughing loudly, enjoying themselves and the like. It's for this reason i thank he/she/it who created life, that i took the exam with a group of people i would commonly class as..."safe" It was good. We had a few laughs but got down to it and done the biz.

When i got my exam sheet through the door....sweet mother of Jesus Mary above in a stable with hay. Was a good feeling. Somewhere close to the Euphoria I'm expecting to feel when i finally get that SIA card through the post....which is where I'm at now. Ok, so I've heard the rumors, it takes 80 years to receive the license "Ooooh SIA License?? you might as well be DEAD mate...you got no hope" etc. When the big jolly Welshman dropped that bomb on us, it was going to take about three months, i felt my heart drop into my stomach, and the acids waiting patiently went right to work on it. I'd just quit my job, expected to sign on for what, a month tops, wait a few weeks in the post, get me license and literally bounce my way to town, land in front of a club and get to work... Ok i know now. Which is why in the meantime i have the most soul destroying job you can imagine, I'm not even going to say what it is but....its the most SOUL DESTROYING JOB YOU COULD IMAGINE...this is to pay the bills and my application.

So if anything you will get to chart how long this is going to take if you reading this now are going for your SIA Doorman license. I'm filling it in today and will have it posted on monday at the latest. Officially its six weeks, I'm hoping i get mine before xmas because quite honestly i want that CHRIMBO GREEN..THE CHRIMBO MONEY...belive it or not, i actually want money. I don't enjoy the idea of getting in between two drunk sweaty men and heaving them out of a club, but i do if it means I'm going to get payed good money for it (please picture me right now giving the double thumbs up) moneeey...

I've done just about all i can do to get myself ready for this, I've been doing a martial art for a year and a half. Also the bar i go to three nights a week has a healthy amount of scraps and thrown bottles and people. I've had a few scuffles in my younger days....ok about ten years ago. But, I'm bloody big, and i can grab a bastard and throw him out if i need to. All the learning how to speak to people and all that will come. It was covered in the exam, but it's one of those things where I'm gonna have to learn as i go along. I know this.

I know how to speak to people, I'm a pro at it, not blowing my own clarinet but i am THE BEST AT IT. But, mix that in with alcohol, abuse, the physical aspect etc, well, fuck it, I'm just going to have to learn. I hate being a newbie at anything, the new boy...but so be it.

So right now, I'm reading an interesting book for Bouncers by Jamie O'Keefe which I'm trying to absorb as much of as i can, but sometimes i wanna just throw the book aside and get in there. I love the idea of getting in the thick of it, I'm not a thug but after doing the same type of work for almost ten...FUCKING...years...no sir. I wanna get hands on. Gripping and stuff...

So there it is....as from monday i will send off the form and we shall see how long it all takes...not much i will be able to update now until it all begins i guess. However any former/current bouncers, thugs, criminals, mad suicide bombers and killer robots who want to give me advice, suggestions etc...please do. Until then...I'll be back when i get my card!

(Looks over at as yet unfilled sheet) Time for a sigh i think...

*sigh*

I need to look at some boobies i think.