We've got to wonder - each and every one of us who do this - after we throw someone out, if they'll come back. We wonder if they'll come back by themselves, or rally their friends to right the injustice that's been placed upon them, or if they'll be waiting for us after we get off of work.We've got to wonder, at least a little bit, if they'll have a knife or a gun on them, ready to "level the playing field".
See, we'll probably outnumber you when we pull you out of the bar. We almost always do. We do this every single weekend. Nearly all of us stay in shape in one form or another. There's a lot of guys who have wrestling backgrounds or fighting backgrounds. Most of us are bigger than you. We've been doing this for a long time. And because of all those things, we nearly always have the advantage. That's what we're paid to do, and we do it well. We don't necessarily like doing it, but we do it and we do it effectively.
Men, on a basic level, don't like to lose a fight. We just don't. So when we throw a grown man out of a bar, it's embarrassing to him. They want justice, revenge. They want another go at it all because they want to show everyone that they're tough. They're not the little fucking bitch that we just made them when we threw them through the doorway. So they rail against the things that were just so unfairly placed upon them, and they tell their friends. Regardless of what started it, it'll always be our fault, in their mind. They'll still stand on the sidewalk and rally their friends and pump themselves up.
Sometimes they'll go to other bars and continue to drink and talk about what just happened. They'll make a drunken plan of revenge and eventually make their way back to the place that tossed them - much more drunk this time around, of course - and wait for the asshole bouncers who did them wrong.
And that's when - I have to admit - we get a little nervous.
Did they go to their car and get their pistol? Do they have a knife in their pocket? Did they go do a little blow to get the nerve to attack us? We stand there at the door at the end of the night looking for the little fuckers we've thrown out while the bar slowly empties, because sometimes you come back to us when it's all said and done and you want to do it all over again.
We think about the kid that was shot and killed at Insomnia years ago. The stabbings that have happened at Level. The violence that we see on a nightly basis and the things that are in the paper every single day. I think about the times I've had weapons pulled on me. I think to myself, "Gee, these kids are angry and drunk. I hope they doesn't try to do me any harm for only doing my job."
But they don't get that. They can't understand that I'm only doing what I'm paid to do. This isn't macho bullshit on my end, it's only a nights work. And sometimes, after they've pumped themselves up and stood around some ways away from us and gotten the nerve to do it, it comes down to them charging us. And we go at it again.
And round 2 is usually worse than round 1, because we're still sober and they're still drunk and by this time we've alerted the rest of our fellow door guys and we do a quick job of "calming the situation". This is the way it usually goes. Sometimes it's better than that. Sometimes it's worse. On our end and on their end. But normally we go home safely. Sometimes they go to jail.
But in the end, everyone has stayed alive so far, and that's the way I'd like for it to stay.
