I Worked as a Bouncer – 5

I’m not sure what it is about working in a busy town at night, but there’s just something… Not quite magical… maybe a little more sinister than ‘magical’, it’s captivating, entrancing, fascinating.

Every night is different, even when the same customers come through the door at the same time as they did the night before. There’s always something different to spice it all up.

Things were not going so well for the club ‘Harveys’ in the week. Numbers dwindling, regular customers showing up later than normal, and not showing up at all. Some of them were confirmed alcoholics, so it was guaranteed they were out – either that or they were dead – and for some, it was only a matter of time.

Pete acquired Club Manager position. I have no idea what he knew about managing a nightclub, but that’s how it was and who am I to argue?
He asked everyone for ideas on getting the club’s fortunes turned around – we were Door Staff – what the hell did we know?

A couple of the lads enlisted friends to find out what was luring the regulars away and it turns out it was another established club that proved to be the main culprit. The ‘Cavern’ had started putting on a regular Rock Night and being children of the 70s and 80s that was a BIG attraction.

Where the younger crowd of regulars ventured, the older ones followed – after all, they were creatures of habit and if one aspect of their habitual activities changed, then they could either change along with it or find another activity. Our customers left in droves once the first dribble started. We haemorrhaged customers and soon there were more staff than punters.

I was tasked with getting our own ‘Rock Night’ up and running. Do I know any local bands? Well no, I didn’t, but as usual, I threw myself into the project. I asked around and I found some willing to play.

I got a couple of bands lined up. They played for peanuts and exposure but it didn’t help. Week three was cancelled because weeks one and two just didn’t work – which was a shame, the bands were great.

Bo, one of Paul’s friends took it upon himself to disrupt the Cavern because building Harveys was proving too difficult. He nipped over the road to the public phone box.
When he came back he had a sickly grin on his face. Half excited, half terrified, we wondered what had happened.

“I phoned a bomb scare in for the Cavern,” he said.

“Why the hell would you do a stupid thing like that?”

“Well, I thought if they were all evacuated, the punters would get bored and cold and come back here,” he said.

“So what happened?”

“Well, I disguised my voice and said there’s a bomb in the Cavern and the woman said, ‘OK. You’re calling from the phone box on Leeming Street, aren’t you? Just wait there, one of our patrol cars will be there in a moment.’ I shit myself and ran back here!” he said.

He hid behind the doors of the club and watched the street. Sure enough, a patrol car cruised by, stopped at the phone box and made sure no one was lurking. “Fuck!” he said in a shocked whisper. “She wasn’t kidding! I’m not doing that again!”

“Daft twat, you shouldn’t have done it in the first place!”

Bo’s expression spoke volumes. He’d tried to do a good deed, but as the saying goes, no good deed goes unpunished.
He was lucky he wasn’t pushed outside in view of the police officers with the door slammed and locked behind him.

Desperate times calls for desperate measures and some of the bouncers took it upon themselves to enlist more friends. I have no idea what bribes they used to tempt them to come drinking in the club, but new punters came in and they were not the type of customers we were used to. A bit of rough and ready we could cope with, but sometimes the club had groups that more resembled gangland thugs than customers.

The problem was, the club’s ambience wasn’t suitable for the higher class gangland thug, either. The club’s décor left a lot to be desired, matt black and dark, dismal ‘blood clot’ purple highlights. When the lights went up at the end of the night, you could envisage Elvira and The Munsters being at home rather than any ‘hip and happenin’ clientele.
The thugs were more likely to be ordering bottles of Newcastle Brown than Chrystal Champagne.

The thugs did nothing more than take over the club. They were more likely to drive the regulars away than tempt more in – it’s a good thing we had no ‘regulars’ left mid-week to drive away. The thugs seemed to think they had an invitation to get in – they did, I suppose. Free entry and handshakes from the bouncers they knew.
“It’s all right, Shell, these are on my guest list…”

Hmmm…

When the bar staff girls were groped, complaints were glossed over and the girls told to ignore it. When I was groped, however, I don’t ignore it and I don’t accept it as ‘a compliment’. I went to the first bouncer I saw and told him to keep an eye on them. That bouncer just happened to be Paul – the one with the inferiority complex about his calf muscles, remember? He listened to my complaint, looked over at the group I was complaining about and he laughed at me.

Right, OK, I can see where this is going.

I went back downstairs to the reception and Dingo saw my murderous look.

“What’s wrong?”

I told him what had happened upstairs. I know that if it had been someone the bouncers didn’t know, the guy would have been turfed out on his ear, but it was becoming plain to me that the guy was not going to be told to keep his hands off.

Whether Dingo was torn by loyalty to two of his friends, me and Paul, or whether he didn’t think it was that big a deal, I don’t know and I don’t care. He did nothing about it.
Pete was told I had a problem and he came down to see me too. I told him what had happened and he shrugged it off.

When Pete went back upstairs, I phoned Trev and asked him to pick me up.
Giving him enough time to get in the car and into town, I waited patiently.
Dingo was outside as it happened and I heard him shout across the road. “Hi Trev, what are you doing here? Are you coming in?”
I locked the reception door and went outside. I handed the key to Dingo without a word. He looked at it in his hand.
As I started crossing the road to go to the car, Dingo called to ask where I was going.

“Home,” I said. “I’m not working where I’m made to feel vulnerable. It’s not worth it. Fuck that for a game of soldiers.”

“You can’t just go!” he said.

“Watch me, I’m just going,” I said.

So, that was that… the end to my ‘career’ before it had even begun.

Not quite.

Dingo rang me the next day. “Are you coming in tonight?”

“I wasn’t planning on it,” says I.

“What about your wages?”

“Angie said she’ll bring them for me.”

Angie was his ex. They still spoke, but too much water passed under the bridge and she was too strong and self-confident to give second chances. She broke his nose when she found out about him cheating on her but that’s another story.

“Oh,” he said. “I think you should come in tonight.”

“Not happening, I’ve done.”

“Look, just come in, they can’t get anyone else to stand on reception.”

“Not my problem. Dingo, it really isn’t my problem. I’m not putting up with being treated like shit and if they need me, they should have thought about that before letting that scumbag off with groping me.”

“He’s not exactly barred, but they’ve been told not to come in again,” Dingo said.

I sighed. “I’ll come in but I’m not promising anything and I’m not working behind the bar any more. Pete’s had chance to get a good team together.”

“OK, I’ll tell him. Be there early though.”

I went in at around 21:30 so I could gauge whether I really was staying or not.

I didn’t need the job. I enjoyed it but it wasn’t keeping the wolf from the door and was not vital to our finances.

Pete nodded for me to follow him and I went around the back of the bar to a quiet area.

“Are you working tonight?” he said.

“Possibly,” I said.

“Look…”

“No Pete, you look. You treated me shittily last night. I don’t need that kind of shit and I don’t put up with it. Any more and I’m gone.”

“Yeah, I saw that from last night’s performance.”

“Oh that wasn’t a performance. That was the real thing. I’ve only come back because Dingo asked me to and I’ve found out why you wanted me back too.”

“Have you…?” he said, warily.

“Yeah. Because I walked out, Angie and Becca threatened to walk too. You stood to lose three of your best workers in one go. You asked if I could put a loyal and honest team together. I didn’t lie to you, they’re loyal, but it’s me they’re loyal to, not the pub or club, not the management team. Me. They’re my friends and they’ve already told me if I go, so will they.”

“Your sister said she’ll stay,” he said in a tone that sounded to me like he thought he’d won a small victory.

“Yeah, she’ll stay as long as it suits her, but she’s only staying because she fancies Paul and if anything happens to him and he leaves, guess what? She’ll be gone too, probably faster than I went. You don’t know me very well, Pete, but Dingo does. Don’t piss me about and don’t think I’ll put up with being taken advantage of. I won’t. I don’t need this job as much as you think I do.”

He stood looking at me for a moment. “So you’re staying then?”

“Yeah, I’m staying. For now.” I went past him, hung out of the door and waved to Trev so he could go home. Pete’s face was a picture when he realised I had a contingency plan if the chat hadn’t gone well.

I went to the club side to set up. I’d only left a couple of hours early the previous night but it had been left in a state. I didn’t realise how much I did until I wasn’t there to tidy up and put things straight in preparation for the following shift.

When Paul arrived, he assumed I wasn’t there. He hadn’t realised I was coming back. He did a double-take and the grin was wiped from his face.

My expression was ‘resting bitch-face’ until shock registered on his face. I turned away and smiled to myself. In that moment I realised that he hoped I’d gone for good.
It wasn’t until much later that I realised exactly what kind of a bloke he was and by that time, it was very bad for my sister. Again, that’s a tale for later.

Paul stuck around in the front entrance to the club, hanging out with the rest of the team, deliberately blanking me. He made such a show of blanking me that Lenny and Mono both approached me (separately) and asked what had gone off. I shrugged as though I didn’t know and they left it.

Paul wound himself up as the evening drew on. He threw thinly-veiled insults in my general direction in the hope that I’d bite. I didn’t but the more I didn’t bite, the more he wound himself up.

A large group of lads came in and gave me quite a lot of attention and as they went upstairs he said something along the lines of not knowing why they were chatting me up.
I smiled at him and he snapped.

“I’m going to fuck your sister and I’m going to think of you every minute I’m doing it!” he snarled.

“Every minute? You mean both minutes, surely?” I said.

Complete silence enveloped the watching door team for what seemed like minutes. Then they exploded with loud, raucous laughter. The penny dropped with Paul split seconds after the rest of the lads got what I’d said.

I’m convinced that the only reason he didn’t react with his usual violence was because there were a lot of people watching. His jaw clenched, as did his fists and he flounced off up the stairs to renewed peals of laughter. Mono, who didn’t usually find much amusing, had tears in his eyes.

“Paul!” he called up the stairs. “Is this your teddy?” The comment drew yet more laughter and I’m sure I heard Paul stomping his feet across the upstairs dance floor.

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