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Saturday, January 31, 2009

Tickle me 'ell-no

When ladies of an age to know better are left outside by their mates to finish their fag it'd be rude not to say something. I can stand stony faced and immovable when needed but for punters who've yet to warrant it I'll try not to be rude.
I'll often say some banal line to asses whether their up for conversation or happy in their own company. However ladies of a certain age and inebriation are a little too eager to talk and in about 3 seconds I'll be regretting opening my mouth. 3 hours later I'll still be regretting it.
In my head I'm answering. No I'm not single, no I'm not interested, no I'm not interested in your 4 children either. I'm not bothered that your ex used to cheat on you, nor am I bothered that you're really horny, or that your mates have all pulled. I'd rather rip off my own ears than have you flirt with me. I am not cuddly, sexy, or ticklish.
In reality I'm giving monosyllabic answers and hardening my body language and avoiding eye contact.
This is not easy to do when my colleague, who wisely kept his trap shut for the first 5 seconds, keeps rotating between telling the drunken tart details about me and sniggering and snickering like a tit or making lewd suggestions down the radio for only my ears and the rest of the team to laugh at.

Thursday, January 22, 2009

Put it away

When you work in a team, each brings their own skills and assets. They also bring their flaws.
One former colleague used to bring his love life to work. He was old enough to know better, had an ex-wife and kids. He also had a haircut not usually seen on anyone over 17.
He'd be energetic and keen at work, when stuff was kicking off or going to. He belonged to the 'he ran into my fist repeatedly' school of doorwork but wasn't at the top of the class.
He would however spend quiet nights having extended text flirts with his current stock of ladies. I think they may not have been very ladylike but they were female with a pulse and usually big shoes, fake blond hair and a conspicuous absence of sense. On some nights, I speculate here, but ones when he was out of battery he'd be chatting away to ladies, continuously. Not the 'how you doing?', 'what you been up to?' kind of nattering, more the 'do you wanna sit on my cock?'.
This got tedious when these lines worked. Instead of taking the early bath offered as the club calmed down, he often did this to drive his small loud car too fast to his lady for the night, he'd stay on, getting paid whilst sitting in a dark corner, ignoring his radio and getting some heavy petting done.
He wasn't the best fun to work with unless it was rammed and hectic. Every other time you just wish he'd taken the bromine rather than the pro-plus.

Friday, January 16, 2009

Go Blind

Working on your own, will only lead to one thing. If you're working on your todd it really has to be a small venue, with little trouble, probably little passing grief and a sensible clientele. Potentially you'll have other staff nearby to lend a hand if needed.
It's not recommended but in a small place the manager just can't justify a pair and are asked by the local plod to obey the letter of their licence and employ doorstaff when asked to by the self same local plod. Would be corrupt if any plod ever moonlighted as doorstaff but they don't, ever, it seems.
You'll never get everything right. If you're on your own it's only your judgement keeping things as they need be. There's no need to be superman. You're not expected to turf out a full football team's worth of drunken muppets. Maybe don't be letting them in but if they're in, just turn off the beer and be polite and on your toes. If they go aggressive keep the other punters safe and wait for the blue light taxi tag team to get there.
You do have to have good self confidence, a good manner with folks and a good few ways to keep yourself amused. The one thing you will always face is boredom. Having done open 'til close shifts on a football saturday on my todd, in the grey winter, it is all about boredom. It's the one thing you're going to have to beat every hour of every night every week.

Monday, January 05, 2009


As a fellow blogger describes sometimes you just connect. Not through planning and considered application of power, just through the developed reactions and subconscious movement.
In one venue I don't see the inside of much nowadays I was just standing watching the dancefloor when I felt a splash against the back of my head. Turning and legging it up the stairs to the balcony floor above I see one gent on the deck holding his face, one gent running up to him and delivering a kick to his head. I'm still closing the distance and contact the upright gent and give an open two handed shove in the chest. This makes some space between me standing over the victim and the other gent reeling backward. He kept going backward and collided with a balcony rail. This rail, set at well above waist height is not an easy obstacle to clear. The gent I had shoved kept going and going until there were no feet on the floor. One hand on the rail, one grabbing the air in front of him and one bloody big fall onto stairs below. Somehow gravity hadn't quite been overcome and he returned to the floor on the safe side of the rail but it did have me worried my night would have added an accidental death to add to the GBH with intent I'd just witnessed.
Similarly when static in a doorway with 6' of pavement between me and the street one gent didn't get the gist of 'not tonight'. He kept walking up and I kept placing an open hand on his chest and reversing his course. After a couple of efforts he tried running at the door. I set a foot backward, applied myself more energetically and much to both our surprise he flew backward a lot faster then he approached and with flintstone like twinkle toes shot across the road. He came to a halt when he found the far curb, and landed unceremoniously on his arse.
Sometimes you wish you'd connect like this but you can only improve the odds. You can get all the pieces in one place but you can't get that slick connection every time.

Thursday, January 01, 2009


When you work at venue it's really important to have a consistent door policy.
If you know it's spit and sawdust and upright is about the only criterion for getting in, you'll need to have a numerous heavy team possibly light on the conversation.
If you're keeping out the chav's and going for an older better dressed audience you'll need less staff, more communication and conflict resolution skills.
If you stick to young ones you need staff who keep their eyes and ears open but don't dismantle everything in sight.
Whatever your policy choice, you tailor the numbers, skills and team approach to it. If you want to chop and change policy night by night and week by week expect a team that doesn't match the venue and more importantly you'll have numbers that don't match. Too many staff and you'll get teams cut back when you'll be needing them all when it kicks off next week. Too few staff and you'll get your arses handed to you on a plate.
I don't like that happening. There's only so many folks you can hold back while pinning a coked up 'roider brute in the fire exit. Then you see that every member of the team's doing the same. and there's still half a dozen coming on. Not a good night but one to remember.