From My Perspective

So here's the scenario. You've decided to square off with me over some trivial issue. We might be at the door and I've refused you entry, or I'm inside and asking you to leave. Either way, you and I aren't on the same page, and you've let me know, in no uncertain terms, that you're dissatisfied. You're so dissatisfied with me that you've made it clear that you'd like to hurt me over this perceived downtown barscene slight.

And that's where we find ourselves. You want inside and you can't get in, or you don't want to leave and you've turned to face me and are considering showing your anger to me through physical violence.

And what's going through my head immediately before you decide to take the first swing, or simply turn around and walk away is this:

I'm watching your hands. Are they in your pockets? Is there a weapon in there? A knife? Are your fists balled up, ready to swing? I'm watching your shoulders for that first move, usually a big, wild right haymaker. I'm looking at your face, your pupils, to try and see if you're on something more than alcohol. I'm looking at your ears, to see if you've got the infamous "cauliflower ear", which isn't uncommon in wrestlers and fighters. I'm watching the people behind you who could possibly be your friends, ready to jump in as soon as things start going down. I'm watching my peripherial vision for my friends, ready to come and help me. I'm looking at my surroundings.

If I'm outside, then all I need to do is create some space between us if things start happening. If it really gets out of control, then I'll try to get behind you and choke you and just wait for help to get there. If we're inside, then not only do I have to get the upper hand, then I've got to drag you out to the front door. In some ways, it's much easier at the door.

Most importantly, I'm evaluating and trying to determine how badly, if at all, you're capable of hurting me should you decide to escalate the situation that you've created into physical violence.

But most of all, I'm simply hoping you'll just turn and walk away because it gets fucking old after awhile. If you find yourself on the receiving end of one of these encounters with a bar employee, just turn around and go the fuck away. Don't try to go out with dignity or save any face, because while I might take your shit on the way out, there are plenty of other bars downtown that won't, and you'll quickly find yourself drug into the back alley or parking lot for some personal one-on-three time simply because you can't bring yourself to back down. There's 30 other bars downtown that you can go be a jackass in besides this one.

I guarantee this scene repeats itself night after night downtown. And personally, I'm pretty sick of it.