This weekend is not fun. It's easter, but it's not really as it's too early in the year for the schools to have broken up for easter and it's too cold for the tourists to head out and about.
Instead we've got local drunken men and women with a few single-sex alcohol tourist groups landing in the city for a serious 4 day drink. Thursday night's Friday night. Friday night's Friday night. Saturday and Sunday nights are Saturday nights and Monday just a no work day with early drinking all day.
It's not chocolate and over-indulgence with the family. It's just beer, spirits and an extended period of alcoholism. We're having far too busy a time of it all. I dread to think how busy the drunk-kidnappers and blue light taxis are. I'm just taking it one night at a time and keeping my head well down. Another night, another set of idiots, another wage earned and hopefully intact forget the thing and get ready for the next one. No night off this week for me.
Saturday, March 22, 2008
Saturday, March 15, 2008
Still awake
I know I work daft hours but the ever earlier sunrise and the stressful beast that was last-night has found me still awake at midday, about 6 hours after I'd usually be in the land of nod.
I got back, all ready for bed, then the sun came up, the randy birds started and I'm wide awake and sleep is still no closer. If it gets to 4 in the morning with no sleep I'm likely going to snap. Either that or dose up on caffeine at the start of my shift and hope I don't crash down too early.
The stresses of last night were all of my own making. I took an interest in watching some-one specific and made sure everyone was keeping an eye out for where they were and what they were up to. It's a fairly common thing for us to do but this one was more care in the community off his medication than possible drug dealer. He just had the strangest social pattern. The chatting selectively with one group then another then another. It stands out and that got him watched.
It then didn't help when some little chav thought he'd take the lad's drink. He got most annoyed, the chav got tossed out but this lad was on a mission. He clocked the fact he was being watched and once his aggravated self was out on the street went off on one. Not physically just verbally and persistently. Not enough to get nicked but enough to leave me quite highly stressed hence he delayed my sleep long enough for the dawn to kick my arse.
I got back, all ready for bed, then the sun came up, the randy birds started and I'm wide awake and sleep is still no closer. If it gets to 4 in the morning with no sleep I'm likely going to snap. Either that or dose up on caffeine at the start of my shift and hope I don't crash down too early.
The stresses of last night were all of my own making. I took an interest in watching some-one specific and made sure everyone was keeping an eye out for where they were and what they were up to. It's a fairly common thing for us to do but this one was more care in the community off his medication than possible drug dealer. He just had the strangest social pattern. The chatting selectively with one group then another then another. It stands out and that got him watched.
It then didn't help when some little chav thought he'd take the lad's drink. He got most annoyed, the chav got tossed out but this lad was on a mission. He clocked the fact he was being watched and once his aggravated self was out on the street went off on one. Not physically just verbally and persistently. Not enough to get nicked but enough to leave me quite highly stressed hence he delayed my sleep long enough for the dawn to kick my arse.
Saturday, March 08, 2008
Hot Pants
Now the days of smoking inside nightclubs are over, alot of young, daft little punters spend a fair amount of their night standing in the cold. They are all tarted up to the nines, though doing this with the least square inches of cloth possible.
One of the many tasks I have to perform is to monitor the smoking area and make sure no-ones killed themselves or anyone else in a faster way than tar and cancer. It's still bloody wintry and I was struck this week at girls, ladies and things older than my mother that decide to wear hot pants and no tights. This is what some male punters think must be the best part of the door job. It is not, it gets tired fast especially when you work with more than just the martini beautiful people.
What struck me was this. Pretty young and shapely ladies in hot pants can be appealing. If your legs are a good feature, work with them, maybe even brave the icy cold and get them working for you. All fine with that, it's marketing and will work for some folk at some level.
What gets me is very large ladies, often squat lumpy ladies who really need to use mirrors, common sense, dignity, shame and taste before thinking hot pants. The idea that size 24 hot pants are manufactured and sold means something is wrong with the world. For the one 7' 2" lady with good legs who likes to get them out, I'm sorry. For the vast podgey, doughy, stumpy ridiculous hordes who wear them, please for the love of sanity, don't wear them in public and please don't try and come anywhere near where I work. I will laugh in your face until you go away. I'm not nice but why make me suffer plus sizes in hot pants. It's like shaving two blubbery seals and dragging them round town to get drunk.
One of the many tasks I have to perform is to monitor the smoking area and make sure no-ones killed themselves or anyone else in a faster way than tar and cancer. It's still bloody wintry and I was struck this week at girls, ladies and things older than my mother that decide to wear hot pants and no tights. This is what some male punters think must be the best part of the door job. It is not, it gets tired fast especially when you work with more than just the martini beautiful people.
What struck me was this. Pretty young and shapely ladies in hot pants can be appealing. If your legs are a good feature, work with them, maybe even brave the icy cold and get them working for you. All fine with that, it's marketing and will work for some folk at some level.
What gets me is very large ladies, often squat lumpy ladies who really need to use mirrors, common sense, dignity, shame and taste before thinking hot pants. The idea that size 24 hot pants are manufactured and sold means something is wrong with the world. For the one 7' 2" lady with good legs who likes to get them out, I'm sorry. For the vast podgey, doughy, stumpy ridiculous hordes who wear them, please for the love of sanity, don't wear them in public and please don't try and come anywhere near where I work. I will laugh in your face until you go away. I'm not nice but why make me suffer plus sizes in hot pants. It's like shaving two blubbery seals and dragging them round town to get drunk.
Friday, February 29, 2008
Busy Busy Busy
The recent cull of doorstaff I talked of has left me with less time on my hands. Alot less than the jobless few who seem just to lurk around popping in every now and then to see how it's all going.
It must be sad if doorwork's all you've got or had.
I've got a missus who'd be more than happy for me to get the boot but as it is I'm crawling up the
greasy pole. There have been some gaps in the ladder above me and I've been filling them. Getting paid for it but not getting the permanent post or the respect. May have to town hop to get that.
What has struck me is, now I'm filling in up the ladder, the jobless and the useless are trying to get me to play for them. All of the lads I work with I have time for. You can't work, night in, night out, with a team who you'd rather see caved in than kicking arse. The thing is, the job is about business. Not about the business of picking up pretty blondes, or kicking arse better than someone else. It's about punters in and drinks spent and money taken and made. If you get that, then maybe you'll know why when trade's slack, doorstaff get culled. The ones with the least business friendly manner first. I'll talk and chat and honestly hope you're doing well. Ask me to make a call that's bad for business and I'll tune out, very fast.
As to whether I'll be climbing the ladder, who knows.
Off to earn my crust and enjoy the end of the month payday.
It must be sad if doorwork's all you've got or had.
I've got a missus who'd be more than happy for me to get the boot but as it is I'm crawling up the
greasy pole. There have been some gaps in the ladder above me and I've been filling them. Getting paid for it but not getting the permanent post or the respect. May have to town hop to get that.
What has struck me is, now I'm filling in up the ladder, the jobless and the useless are trying to get me to play for them. All of the lads I work with I have time for. You can't work, night in, night out, with a team who you'd rather see caved in than kicking arse. The thing is, the job is about business. Not about the business of picking up pretty blondes, or kicking arse better than someone else. It's about punters in and drinks spent and money taken and made. If you get that, then maybe you'll know why when trade's slack, doorstaff get culled. The ones with the least business friendly manner first. I'll talk and chat and honestly hope you're doing well. Ask me to make a call that's bad for business and I'll tune out, very fast.
As to whether I'll be climbing the ladder, who knows.
Off to earn my crust and enjoy the end of the month payday.
Friday, February 01, 2008
Sleepy
I work sober, don't drink red-bull or even coke as I value the few hours of darkness left when I get home to sleep in. Towards the end of my shift I really start to feel sleepy.
By 3 or 4 in the morning, why does anyone have any energy left?
I shuffle around the club for 5 hours with the occasional adrenaline fueled dash and wrap effort I don't really do too much. I've had a good mornings sleep beforehand and I still feel the natural urge to sleep as the night draws on.
If someone's still looking lively at the end of the night it's time to think about columbian marching powder or dance all night pills.
Anyway, off to earn a crust, then eat some fried chicken. I hope I don't have another thrilling Friday night. The less adrenaline released this shift the better, I may not have my infinite pit of patience to draw upon after the efforts of team reshuffles and new staff this week.
By 3 or 4 in the morning, why does anyone have any energy left?
I shuffle around the club for 5 hours with the occasional adrenaline fueled dash and wrap effort I don't really do too much. I've had a good mornings sleep beforehand and I still feel the natural urge to sleep as the night draws on.
If someone's still looking lively at the end of the night it's time to think about columbian marching powder or dance all night pills.
Anyway, off to earn a crust, then eat some fried chicken. I hope I don't have another thrilling Friday night. The less adrenaline released this shift the better, I may not have my infinite pit of patience to draw upon after the efforts of team reshuffles and new staff this week.
Saturday, January 26, 2008
Keeping in
People have been getting fired left right and job-centre in the last couple of weeks. Not that doorwork has ever been a stable source of employment but I think the quiet of January may be the reason.
What does a manager do when they've got no-one in the club. They can't just hide in the office all month. Well they can but they tend to watch the cctv all night. This leads to small things getting up their noses. Then they fly out of the office in a cabin fever rage and start coming out with all sorts of excuses to get rid of doorstaff. The easy way to stay in the job is not to be the tallest fir-tree and of course to do your bloody job. That's not too tricky but that's why so many of the lads have been collecting their final payslips this month. Not me I'm glad to say. I don't think I'm indispensable, I'm competent and as such I'm hard to replace.
What does a manager do when they've got no-one in the club. They can't just hide in the office all month. Well they can but they tend to watch the cctv all night. This leads to small things getting up their noses. Then they fly out of the office in a cabin fever rage and start coming out with all sorts of excuses to get rid of doorstaff. The easy way to stay in the job is not to be the tallest fir-tree and of course to do your bloody job. That's not too tricky but that's why so many of the lads have been collecting their final payslips this month. Not me I'm glad to say. I don't think I'm indispensable, I'm competent and as such I'm hard to replace.
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