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Monday, March 30, 2009

Sliding away

Working inside a hot sweaty student night. The air conditioning gave up keeping the innards cool an age ago, its just dripping down the wall every now and again. The mirrors are steamed up, the walls are dripping with a combination of beer and condensed sweat. This is the time when I find myself hurtling onto the dancefloor as two small and skinny t-shirted and scruffy haired student types tangle. They feel its time to be as manly as 19 year olds straight from mommys table to pot noodles and lectures can be. This involves pushing each others chests and keeping a nearly safe distance away. That is until we arrive.
My colleague and I arrive from opposite times and scoop both up, spinning them away from each other. All good, his one goes quietly, mine sees the crowded, no overcrowded room and figures he'll make a dash for it. Not exit-ward, he tries to bolt for the corner packed with folks. He's skinny, sweaty, full of adrenaline and his drunken mind is focused on a task. I've got one hand around his wrist and one around his elbow and he's wriggling and pulling and twisting this way and that. I'm struggling to stay standing on a dancefloor mainly awash with drink, sweat and a fine sprinkling of broken bottle glass. He's got a serious passion to be elsewhere and enough sweat on him to make it a serious possibility.
This is not the way to control a situation. Time to improvise. He's small, he's skinny, he's wearing jeans. keeping one hand on his wrist I throw a hand out and grab the top of his jeans. I then levitate the bugger back towards me. It's alot more fun to watch someone try and wriggle away when their feet don't reach the floor. A quick redirection towards the fire door and the gent rapidly gives up, preferring the dignity of walking to that of twisting like a worm on a hook.

Monday, March 16, 2009

Pick me Pick me

We've had a small tv production company in doing the usual drunken interviews. They've a production assistant who's clearly just out of a tv production degree and getting less than minimum wage to get drunken punters to do 30 second interviews on camera and then remember enough details to complete the release form. All the time you can just see them praying that some drunken lass, goaded by her vicious mates, is going to flash her tits at the camera or snog her equally drunken girlfriend.
They're aiming to film the kind of low grade filler crap that even low budget high numbered channels don't broadcast 'til I'm coming home from work. It does make our punters put on their best horizontally striped, big labelled polo-shirts/sweaters or if female, the biggest set of hoops and the smallest set of tube and shorts they still nearly fit into.
Seldom seem to get much bother while they're filming. I don't imagine once they've given their name and then a short well lit interview they really fancy breaking the law and having their details immediately made available.

Friday, March 06, 2009


When you're following your colleagues escorting someone out of the premises there are some things not to do.
You don't want to wander off and get distracted by another punter in case the 1st one decides to go ballistic. You don't crowd in and jostle the group going out, leave the lead in the situation to apply or ease the pressure. You don't try and get past to have your fag break no matter what's going on.
You just move long behind them, keeping good eye contact with the doorman leading and a feel for the body language of the ejectee.
What you really shouldn't do unless you're very naughty is to see the ejectee lunge for the doorman and in one smooth sweep, bend, gather the muppets ankles together and lift them backwards. It looks a little silly and you do have to drop them to sit on their back. The surprised looks on the punters face and the front doormen's is sublime as their angry punter flies backwards and spins in the air until an abrupt face plant stalls his aggression quite swiftly.