I used to work at a night club called Cuvee as a security guard. It's a trendy, high end night club, where a Stella Artois is about $15. My regular weekend shifts were about 12-5am. One night I was welcoming people inside. I enjoyed that a lot, smiling to the pretty ladies and welcoming people in. After patrons enter there is a walkway with the VIP section on the left, and on the right is a step up area with tables and couches.
Around 2am there is a scuffle on the walkway. More like, some guys were tackling each other onto the step up and beating each other violently. It was exciting, and I won't say I didn't enjoy watching momentarily. Luckily, other more equipped guards showed up to pull the guys apart.
One of them was in a full nelson by one guard, and I went over to hold his arms down... Poor technique on my part. For about three seconds this guy was cool, then suddenly, "Get the fuck off me!" He starts ripping away from me and the other guard, he ducks and I try to get him in a head lock as he jerks his head up into my lip (luckily not my nose). It only hurt a wee bit, I could have gotten seriously frunked up from this drunk dick's skull. A number of other guards swarmed him, pinned him down, and dragged him out, and threw the other guy out on the other side of the club.
When I got home, for some reason I did not want to go to sleep. I got some coffee from 711, their donuts were not out yet. And they were rude about not having their donuts out, so I instead went to Dunkin' Donuts, for some D's. I brought them home and brewed another pot of coffee, (to try and stay awake). I eat and drink them and feel stuffed and tired. I begin to flip between Ren and Stimpy and the 2005 version of Bad News Bears. I had some good laughs, but I fell asleep despite all of the coffee. Coffee actually makes me tired some times. I wanted to stay up because Chicago at 6am is a beautiful site. And I was a bit wired from being involved in manhandling drunk European dudes.
Post a Comment