Friday, March 02, 2007

Fun with Girls

A girl walks up to the bar I was standing behind at about 2:15am last night and asked for a beer.

"Sorry, it's after 2. We're done serving for the night," I tell her.

"But you and that girl just took a shot with him!" she said, motioning to the bartender I was standing next to and the guy sitting at the bar opposite from us.

"Sorry, we all work here."

"But that's not fair!" she whines.

It was about this point I wanted to tell her the many many reasons why I wouldn't sell her a beer. Apparently, the fact that it is against the law to serve alcohol after 2am wasn't enough for her. I could have mentioned that I believed she would finish the beer very slowly and thus not leave the bar for another 15 minutes. This would make me stay at the bar even later. It was the slowest Thursday that the bar has ever seen and the staff had spent the majority of the night drinking, purely out of boredom, and thus had very little patience to explain to a drunk girl why she wouldn't be getting a beer.

"Tough shit."

"You're an asshole," she snaps at me and walks back to her group of friends, now the only 5 people left in the bar.

I watched her relay her story to her friends and I began getting some very mean looks from the guys she was with.

I was drunk so I didn't really give a shit at this point so I popped open a beer for myself where they could see it, and walked to the back room to wash some glasses.

A few minutes later I wandered up to the door just in time to see the end of a nasty exchange between the guy working the door for the night and one of drunk girls male friends.

She must have really wanted that beer.


A few nights ago I was lucky enough to witness a girl smack the shit out of a guy. So, in my infinite wisdom I walked up and told the her she needed to leave. I had just caught this girl in the guys bathroom not 2 minutes before, pinning the guy against the wall yelling at him, and she wasn't happy I told her she wasn't allowed in the guys room. So I didn't really expect her to go quietly.

"But he spit in my face!" she said, while wiping her face off.

"Yea, and he bit my boob!" her friend chimed in.

"I'm sorry that happened, but you should have gotten one of us before you hauled off and hit him," I say.

The fact is, I saw the guy spit in her face. While that would normally be grounds to kick him out in my book, she reared back and hit him in return. So now I had to kick everyone out and I chose to pick the violent one to escort out first. Only, she wasn't having that.

"Do you know who I am??" the drunk girl screeched at me.

I sighed. Not this again. I was trying to be nice at first, but she had just dropped a common line that let me know this conversation would not be fun.

"No. I have no clue who you are."

"My dad's a lawyer! I'm gonna sue the fuck out of you and this bar! You're just taking his side because you're a guy," she screamed at me, her friend holding her back slightly.

"I really don't give a fuck who anyone is here. Give daddy a call. Right now, if you want to. He'll tell you that by refusing to leave that's a crime called criminal trespass and if you don't walk out the door right now the cops will give you a nice little room for the night at county," I say.

She pushed me.

"Look," I said, glaring a hole through her head. Now I was pissed. "That's your freebee. That dude over there might take it, but if you try to hit me then I'll drag you out of here by your fucking hair. You want to fight like a man, I'll throw you out like a man. I don't give a fuck if you're a girl. Now get out."

Her friend grabbed her arm and started dragging her to the door. She kicked a chair over on the way out.

"You fucking juicehead! Steroids make your dick shrink! Asshole!" she called out to me over her friends shoulder as she was led out.

By the time I walked them out, the guy and his buddy had left as well. I planned on talking to them about spitting in her face, but I didn't get the chance. Oh well.

Another night in paradise.

Thursday, March 01, 2007


This article appeared today in the Red and Black, which is the Universities student-run paper.

It's apparent this kid has never worked at a bar. He holds the commonly misguided and mistaken idea that anyone and everyone has a right to be inside any bar they please whenever they want. This, of course, is totally wrong. The entire purpose of a "door guy" is to filter out the people that shouldn't be in a bar. It's why I spend 7 hours a night standing in a fucking doorway looking at IDs and getting called names. I'll bet he's the guy who wants to stand there & relentlessly argue with me about his buddy getting rejected as if he knows more about my job than I do. He obviously dropped the race card with the door guy, even more so now since there's an entire fucking article about it.

This line of thinking drives me nuts. A bar/club is private property and they can refuse entry to anyone for any reason. Yes, even if they're black. They probably won't tell you that though. Sorry sir, you're black so I can't let you in.

I certainly don't condone the idea that people of color are not allowed inside a business simply because they're not white, but the fact is that a bar owner can run his business any way he pleases. It's his right. There certainly are bar owners who do this, and while I can't agree with them morally, I agree that they are entitled to that right and I am not going to be the one to tell him he can't have that right any more.

The fact is, I routinely don't let people in every single night for a dozen different reasons. If you're too drunk, if you're dressed like a thug or a redneck, if I think you're sketchy and will scare the little sorority girls, or if I just plain don't like you then you're not getting in. I've been called a racist more times than I can count. Yes, even by white guys, believe it or not (I'm white, for the record).

The article states that his indian friend even offered to remove his chain and put it in his car, but the bouncer still wouldn't let him inside. This tells me that there was another reason besides dress code that he wasn't being let in. The writer, of course, jumped to the conclusion that it was because the kid is an indian, but I submit that they were probably mouthing off to the door guy or any number of other reasons besides the fact that the guy isn't white.

I also submit that Bourbon Street caters specifically to the extemely underaged, white, fraternity/sorority crowd. This is no mystery to anyone who has been downtown more than a few times. I've been rejected at Bourbon Street for dress code. Twice. Of course, I respectfully talked my way in both times.

Just because the writer thought his friends was wearing "dress clothes" and was "overdressed for most bars downtown" doesn't mean shit. Again, thats what the guy posted at the door is for. Your opinion doesn't mean anything to them. It's theirs that counts. The hip hop retard tries to tell me how much his clothes cost, but door guys don't care. You look retarded and you're not coming in even if your fly new athletic gear cost you "more than I make in a month". Whatever.

We follow the same policy Bourbon Street does. If you're out of dress code, then you're done for the night. No, you can't take off your do-rag and put it in your pocket. No, you can't go back to your car and change out of your jersey. Scarface jacket? Fuck no. No, you can't tuck in that fucking gown that you call a white-T. You're done. You're not coming in. Because if I do let you in, it never will have your stupid little do-rag back on within 5 minutes and your shirt will be untucked and you'll make the place look like its fucking hip hop night.

Simply put, I have no problem discriminating against the hip hop fashion. It's not discriminating against blacks. Simply because blacks wear that style more than other races doesn't mean that bars dislike anyone besides white people. The entire hip hop culture is a ridiculous phenomenon that glorifies violence, gangs and material possessions. So all of the little sheep that listen to that shit and take it seriously dress like they're a rap superstar or a gangster. Or a crack dealer.

It's been my experience that these people (the hip hop retards) buy a drink or two, usually Hennessey and coke or a "hen and hyp" (hypnotic), and tip a fucking quarter. They are disrespectful, start fights, travel in packs known as "crews" and threaten door guys. If anyone remembers Annex (where The Loft is located now) that place was a madhouse. There were fights all the time, both by white and black wanna-be gangsters. I'm glad that place is gone. It seems since then, the little Madison county white trash and the thugs have, for the most, part left downtown.

So yes, I am discriminating. Bars DO discriminate. We discriminate against thugs, rednecks, white trash and anyone who looks like they'll be a problem or will start trouble or won't be an asset to the crowd. I don't care if you're fucking purple with pink polka-dots, as long as you're dressed respectfully then you won't have a problem getting in. Dress how you'd like to be treated. End of story.