I was reading the musings of a doorman from over the pond who seems to have fallen very out of love with the profession. He, like many other rampant bloggers, is finishing off his novel at the mo and looks to publishing as an escape from the joys of toe to toe work.
(Aside) I don't know if it's just me or have publishers gotten lazy and instead of reading manuscript after manuscript have just devolved to reading blogs, finding those who can write and chasing after them with cheques and pormises of glory. Please let me know.
The idea that all of your punters are spaced off their tits does make me wonder what kind of a place he's working at. I don't let the visibly stoned, brain wandering, pupils oversized or tiny in through our front door. In addition we all run around inside checking for drug use and it's acoutrements and swiftly eject all those we find. Yes people will always try to have a better night and with drugs now cheaper/cleaner/more available than ever some think it worthwhile. Not my bag baby but from the number of empty coke bags lying around in our club that the cleaners find stuffed down the back of places alot seem to.
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