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Tuesday, July 21, 2009

What line

"You're well out of order!"
"He ain't done nothing."
"Fuck off man, Leave him alone."

Not bloody likely. He may not be the greatest threat I've ever seen, in fact he may not even be the greatest threat I'll see this evening. Some of the barstaff probably pose a greater threat and that's only because I let one rip in the staff room earlier.
He is however rather drunk and feeling a little too inhibited has decided it great fun to pinch girls, ladies and pigs in makeups back sides as they move past the end of the bar he and his tribe have occupied. I've watched him for a few minutes and he's grabbed a handful of arse from 15 or so girls. Some have turned and faced him, called him a cock or worse and moved on. Others have just jumped, reddened and shot back to their friends swiftly. He's been grinning like he's won the lottery throughout.
I wander over, aware that he's in with a gaggle of lads. I've got at least one pair of friendly eyes on me from my team mate. I approach all smiles and open posture. I get his attention with a slow hand on his upper arm. I make eye contact and tell him "It's time to go home."
He stares blankly, smile starting to falter. "I think you've had enough now sir, time to go home"
More blank staring, "The doors over there sir, time to get through it"
His eyes wander past me, no doubt another potential victim has drifted by out of range this time due to my presence.
Staring straight into his face, when his eyes return to mine I say for the final time. "Sir, you've had enough. Time to go home. Lets go now." I place my arm around his back, still keeping a fairly open stance and slowly apply my size to direct him away from the bar and his mates towards the door. A slow walk to the front door being the plan.
His mates finally clock the plot and then start the shouting. Yelling the daft requests over the racket of the music.
My colleague emerges from the background and with the numbers better balanced the slow shuffle to the front door begins. The shouting continues though not from the prime nugget, he's just very bemused by the slowly approaching front door.
Out in the quiet by the front door the cheer squad were still bitching. Time for some crowd control.
"Gents, He's had too much, he's acting like a muppet, he's upsetting other customers. It's time he went home. He's leaving!" That was intended to end the conversation. Making it quite clear it was time he was off and why.
"You're out of line, you fat prick!"
What line is there that thinks upsetting customers whilst being insensible through drink is acceptable. What line am I out of when I think it's time this drunk bloke needs to be gone. What line am I out of when he's being escorted gently and slowly out as he's not a nasty threatening bloke, just a drunken dick.
"You're leaving now as well sir."

Monday, July 13, 2009

In your home

In pubs and clubs I often wonder what the home life of some customers is like. Do the "blingin' gangsta" wannabe boys walk, talk and swagger like that when their mum's made their dinner and is ironing their overlong T-shirt?
Do the loud, singing swearing, threatening, football following types terrorising the whole pub and being crude and abusive to the staff in equal large measures speak to their wives, children or co-workers like that?
Do the skinny, shaven headed chav lads and lasses spit on the floor in their own homes?
I know a pub or club isn't a family or home setting but it's an environment people work in, some people like to have respect for it. If I see spitting on the floor/walls or abuse to staff, offensive behaviour of many kinds I generally advise the punter to make a swift exit. Most seem sorry and unsurprised at their unexpected departure. I think when they actually interact with people they remember they're part of the same species, locality and social group.
Most do. Some do not and have their own impenetrable ego so firmly established that only the swift removal of their drinks and their ejection into fresh air of the night illustrates the point to them in terms they can understand. Whether they bother to take it on is another whole matter.

Monday, July 06, 2009


This last sweaty week has been timed to coincide with the students finishing exams and A level students finishing their exams. Its meant all day drinking with a clubbing finish, sunshine, cider and alcopops. Sweat, beer and dancing all leading to an awful lot of drunken tomfoolery. It's the last time they'll be in so we have to keep an eye on anything not screwed down and somethings that are from wandering past us at the front door. There are old scores to settle. There are old girlfriends, old boyfriends to clear the air with. So amongst the very drunk and the very sweaty we've had domestics and scuffles and just folks causing havoc. All on nights too damn hot to be stuffed into a club with hundreds of sweaty students. Too hot to sleep during the day and too light to sleep well in the mornings.
I'm bloody glad that the heavens have opened and I'm not going to be boil in the bag again this week.