Back In The Day
I've been talking about putting this page up for a while now & have started
writing the stories for it, due to the nature (usually violent, sometimes funny,
always true (allegedly) !) of them the page will be password protected, if you
want access to it drop me an e-mail.
Subscribe me to Back In The Day
Some of the stories:
Finding a tooth in my steel toe caps.
It's a knockout. (at the cash line)
250,000 volts in the nuts.
The Green L Reg Lantra. (aka - almost a murder in the underpass)
Staring down the barrel of a 9mm. (aka - fuck, shit, bastard, help) :-)
The Bowie Knife.
Over the bonnet of the car. (nope, not a rude 1)
Reebok'd.
The man with the hatchet.
A pepper spray to far.
Head through the window.
Square Go at Auchenkilns.
Front door off the hinges.
Wheelchair off the level.
Ouch, that had to hurt.
Dealer in the toilet.
The Gypo's
I've worked the doors for years, for the most part I've had an absolute ball.
It's can be 1 of the worst jobs in the world when you have to earn your money
(which is usually pish) but it ranks up there with the best the rest of the
time.Bouncers, door staff, security, call them what you will, get incredible
amounts of grief. Everyone thinks we have an easy shift just standing on the
door or walking round the club all night, we do it so people can go out for a
drink in safety, we shouldn't need to & most of us would prefer if we didn't
need to.
I always get a laugh at the folk who tell me that they could do the job no probs,
or if we ever need a dig out they will be there for us, you can almost guarantee
that when the shit hits the fan they are nowhere to be seen. Not really a
problem because we haven't banked on them in the 1st place. (We've already
learned the hard way. *grin*)
Some folk think that they should be able to shout or swear at us, throw
bottles/glasses, attack us with anything from pool cues to shotguns, threaten
our families and we should stand there & take it, fuck that shit. I'll accept a
bit of verbal, throw something at me and you'll get twatted, threaten
friends/family etc & you'll get twatted, woken up & then twatted again.
I actually don't like violence, (pity cos I'm so good at it - lol) most doormen
I've worked with over the years are the same, however, if you take it down to
its basest level we get paid to fight, the club/pub/other doormen will let you
off with getting 2nd place once or twice, after that you are too much of a
liability.
You have to laugh at the folk that start a fight, get beat then run to the
Police complaining that they got battered for no reason at all. Talking about
the Police, I have the utmost respect for them, they do a difficult job under
difficult circumstances, I have given the Police a 'dig out' on a number of
occasions at 1 particular club I used to work at, we always got on well together
& had a good relationship, of course there is always an exception to the rule,
no doubt that wee story will find it's way onto the story page at some point.
I have worked with some very handy lads, some very funny lads & very
occasionally, the bully boy. The latter is a dying breed thankfully, nobody has
much time for them. (I'll talk about a couple of them who get their
'comeuppance' later.)
An example of what's to come:
From: Steve
Sent: 12 November 2006 02:52
Subject: Unbelievable. (no really, it is)
Hey folks,
Some of you are already aware of the 'incident' at the petrol station last
month, for those of you that aren't I'll bring you up to speed & then I'll give
you all part 2. (& btw, when I say unbelievable in the subject box I'm serious,
it really is unbelievable)
Part 1:
1 night after work (about 02.00) I dropped into the garage on my way home to get
some fags, (It's true what they say about cigarettes by the way, they are bad
for your health, although in this particular instance not mine *grin*) Next to
the door of the garage is a cashline, at the cashline was a lad, I looked over
at the lad as I was making my way to the door & he asked me "what the f&*@ are
you looking at" I gave a small laugh and said "sorry" ? (please note the
question mark, I wasn't apologising to him !) he then said "I said what the f"
he didn't get to finish the statement because I hit him. (& I've got to say,
even if I do say so myself, it was a pretty decent shot.) He was out cold before
he hit the floor. (truth be told he was out cold before he hit the wall behind
him, then he hit the floor.) The lad that was working in the garage came out and
told me that the (sleeping) lad had been arguing with everyone that had passed
by. He was happy enough for me to be on my way without informing anyone !
Part 2:
This morning after work (about 01.45) I decided to go to the garage to get the
Sunday papers, I got out of my car & started to walk over towards the garage, I
was aware of a lad walking down the street, (this is where it starts to get
unbelievable) he then shouted "you f*&%$ng b"*^%rd, I'll f&*>#$ng kill you" I
have no idea how he remembered me, (I didn't remember him at 1st, that came
later, when I did realise that it was the same lad I was very disappointed, I
was sure I'd broken his jaw 1st time round, obviously not as here he was
shouting in the street, so common !) He decided to try a new attack this time,
he hit my foot with his face (it's okay, I'm not going to press charges lol)
Déjà Vu again cos down he went, (you'd think that someone who obviously has a
glass jaw wouldn't go around arguing with folk eh ?) It was at this point when I
looked down at him I realised who he was. For those of you that have ever been
unfortunate/fortunate enough to have ever knocked someone out you will remember
that the 1st couple of seconds you are filled with real elation, you feel on top
of the world, the best buzz of your life, then you start praying for them to
wake up, time seems to slow down, your bowels want to make a downward movement &
your stomach wants to make an upward movement, I was aware of a banging sound
and looked up to see the same lad that worked in the garage banging on the
window, he waved at me then gave me the thumbs up !!!!!
I have absolutely no idea how on earth he remembered me from our previous brief
encounter & I would imagine that if he remembers seeing me next time he'll
probably keep quiet.