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.