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

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

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

(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

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

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...

(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

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

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

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

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"

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?

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.

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

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

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"

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.