Wednesday, August 30, 2006

confessions of a strip club barman: the going away party

“Three bourbons and a VB thanks mate”

I eyed the guys at the bar, taking in his appearance. He wore an oversized back short-sleeved shirt decorated with flames, his head was shaved bald and his scruffy red beard obscured most of his face. He couldn’t be more than 27.

“Cheers bull” he shouted at me, smiling and pushing his tongue through the gap where his front teeth should be.

He was with a group of blokes so I just assumed that the drinks were for them. I was surprised when the rest of them ordered a bourbon or VB for themselves.

This guy was going to get messy.

Ordinarily, the barman would rely on the bouncer to handle any situation that might flare up, but just a couple of weeks earlier one of the barmen had to jump the bar to help the outnumbered bouncer.

Some guy brought his girlfriend into the club (which happens quite a bit) and when she decided she didn’t like the way a stripper was looking at her boyfriend (which also happens quite a bit) she started throwing chairs at the poor girl on the stage.

Then, as the bouncer tried to forcibly eject the girl, the boyfriend started to land punches on the bouncer. So the bouncer shifted his focus to the bloke throwing punches and let the girl go, she in turn started knocking over tables and going after the stripper who was by now hiding in the backroom.

That was the fallout from just a rowdy couple. I had to keep an eye on this group of rough guys. They didn’t act like tradesmen and most of them dressed in old polyester “Wu Tang” shirts.

Throughout the night they were loud and obnoxious, but this is a strip club - you can’t exactly pick and choose the clientele. Besides, they were having fun and not hurting anyone.

A young guy from the group came to the bar and while I made him a bourbon I asked him what the plans were for the night.

“We’re having a going away party”

I nodded. There was two bucks parties in tonight too. I asked which of the guys was leaving and he motioned towards old mate in the flame shirt with three drinks in front of him at the table.

“Where’s he going” I asked.

“Jail” the young guy replied. “He’s got his sentencing in two weeks.”

I nodded, not at all surprised.



1 comment:

Luke said...

mate this blog is out of control ...