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Monday, October 27, 2008

Splattered

Once in a while I will splatter a punter. Not out of boredom, malice or anything other than a sense of self preservation.
In certain situations as soon as you approach a punter to tell them something politely, they react as if you've just shat on their mothers fresh grave and wiped your arse with the flowers. They don't have a rational response, they go ballistic. It's not the steady escalation of a situation as the clash of wills becomes apparent, after the the message soaks past the alcohol.
No it's the quiet word that, due to a punter's altered state of mind, they fly into a violent rage at. Feeling the situation will end up with blood and tears, not exclusively theirs, I have to attempt a quick restraint. This inevitably only gets half the required number of limbs to be fully effective. Then their unhinged adrenaline enhanced strength kicks in and the fun begins. Unless the radio call gets my colleagues flying in to me swiftly it's time to use some body weight dynamically. Usually employing walls, counters, floors and other very solid objects to gain an upper hand without releasing the punter or resorting to kicking, kneeing, punching, elbowing or butting them into submission. This is not usually pretty, though it can be fairly fast and fluid. It consistently ends with me on top of or behind the punter having established control. There's usually blood, grazes and often carpet burns. With their adrenaline spent it's just a case of making sure they've run out of energy before you risk moving them and seeing them off for the night. Then it's time to change shirt wash your hands and reflect upon another splattered punter and what you could've done better and more perplexingly, how did blood get there?

3 comments:

an.otherdoorman said...

This is again, one of my inebriated posts. This Saturday night we had a night with significant american solider clientelle. However a few local chav's sneaked through the net. One of which decided he'd like to introduce his fist to my jaw. his first mistake. His second mistake was to resist. I chokelocked the chappy and asked politely for him to ceast and desist, a negative response ended in him taking a calculated punch to the jaw to calm him down. Needless to say the punter had a quick sleep, with the negative effect of having my white shirt turned pink. Sometimes you have no choice right?

I'll be a good boy in the club tonight. I promise. Also, I have a question i'd like to ask your advice on personally, do you have an email address?

Anonymous said...

If you can adequately restrain a person, without releasing your first hold and without resorting to kicking, kneeing, punching, elbowing or butting them into submission, then you have a very good technique indeed.

I can't do it in the way you describe, after more than 50 years of training and practice (not on doors); I can restrain someone quite easily, but I often need to use release after first contact, balance and, sometimes, blows.

I cannot understand how you do it so easily...

....unless you are built like a top rank sumo wrestler...

Now that would explain it.

Michael

Anonymous said...

Well Halloween is over, and plenty of splattered punters. Alcohol soaked customers acting like tits dressed up even worse. And its also the time when some of our banned customers manage to sneak in after painting their faces up real good. Luckily our venue has a back stairs that isnt on camera for our more wild customers. As long as we get them there, restraint techniques sort of slip out of the window. I know its not great practise, but just sometimes its what the guy needs.