Pocket dispatch from host stand (bouncer diary)
Party of six. Pre-gamers at their final stop. Two of the girls drop their IDs when I card them. They’re carrying snacks and open containers, which I confiscate.
They’re celebrating a birthday, the answer to a question I didn’t ask. One of the boys, probably late 20’s, sizes me up. I pretend not to notice and say have a nice night as I click my counter six times, turn to the next group, and hold up my hand.
A lot of the art of my job is how you stop people. The nuances of that initial interaction set the tone for the whole exchange.
First I make the traditional stop sign, then I twist it in a sort of half queen’s wave as I make a little smile with one corner of my mouth. “How we doing tonight?” It tells people I’m in charge but makes them feel like maybe I’m happy to see them.
If the guest feels any sting of rejection, a fight’s begun whether or not either of you was looking for one. I can usually feel that heat radiating off them before they do, right when they step up to my stand. But I take the temperature of the situation again as I check each ID. I look them in the eye after looking over the card. They think I’m checking they match the card, but I’ve already done that. I’m looking them in the eye for a flash of indignation, or worse, a cold, dead stare and a clenched jaw. Those are the boys to look out for: more liquid confidence than sense, and plenty to prove. Usually there’s nothing more on board than a pocket knife and twitchy hands, but now and then there’s a gun in the waistband. Those types like clubs, so I see more guns at work than on the street.
The next group is a foursome. Some kind of double date, but casual. Too casual. The guys have ill-fitting jeans and their untucked button shirts are ten years late. At my last job, the crowd was more curated and I could turn people away for bad style. But I got the ax when new owners took over, and I didn’t have the kind of savings that would have allowed me to be choosy.
I card then and wave them in, soul patches and all. …
The truth is some people are already looking for a fight when they get up in the morning, it just doesn’t come out of them until they’re drunk and standing in line to get into my club. They swallow the feeling all day, go to work, fight traffic, take shit from their bosses and co-workers, then come home tired and try to shake it off for a night out so they can let loose. What exactly they’re letting loose is a surprise sometimes.