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So, tonight there was this function at the theatre.
Quick rundown. Every year, we broadcast the Oscars live into Theatre 1 and charge admission. We have caterers bring in food and beverages and wine. The whole place gets dolled up. People come dressed all fancy and what have you. A real swank thing. The only thing is you have to pay to get in and it isn't open to those who don't pay. Thus it's a private function inside the theatre.
So the evening gets underway and I'm doing the whole, greet at the door thing, when we get a call over the radio that some dude has snuck in.
It doesn't take us long to find him. My manager (T, who just so happens is training to become a cop. Great guy, I love him) comes up to me
T: manager
Me: socialite/greeter/bouncer
WG: Wannabe gangster thing (bout 35 years old) For a reference, see link below. It's not the guy, but you get the general idea. Also, no slight against the artist is intended. Its just a reference.
http://fj5.deviantart.com/art/Thug-Look-48342249
T: Gear, did you take that guys ticket.
Me: *looks in the direction and sees a guy who doesn't belong*
Me: nope
We both head over and intercept the guy who has made his way to the champaign table. Now I can't remember the whole debacle verbatim so, bear with me.
T: *takes champaign away from guy who had already taken a sip*
T: Sir, you can not take this. This is a private function and you didn't pay to get in here.
WG proceeds to get VERY beligerent VERY quickly.
It is important to note at this point that I am very loyal to the people I work with. If something starts to go down, I want to be there to have their backs. This leads me to enter a state of being where if the shit is about to fly, I'm ready to fly with it (i.e. bouncer mode). I have a feeling that this mentality will one day get me killed. Thank god for strength in numbers.
WG: *insert string of expletives*
T: I don't care. this is a private function. you can't come in here.
WG: F you man. F-bomb, F-bomb, F-bomb, F-in knock you out.
T: Just leave
WG: *expletive, expletive etc...."
T: Leave now.
WG: F you man, I payed for my movie ticket.
At this point the ticket taker, sweet little girl that she is, is at a loss for what to do. She's scared shitless.
T: I don't care, I want you gone, so go.
WG: Man, Ill f-in knock you out. What are you gonna do.
T: If you don't leave, I'll call the police.
Me *whips out cell phone, in full view and ready to dial*
WG: Man, call the f-in police, *string of explectives*
T leaves to get some more managers for a few seconds, leaving me to watch the cook. I watch him like a hawk and keep him from swiping a sandwhich.
WG: blah blah blah, your man better watch himself
Me: *sorta audible, sorta undermy breath, coulda gotten my ass kicked for it* yeah yeah, sticks and stones my friend, doors that way.
WG: What you say?
Me: *in my head* Fuck, shoulda kept my mouth shut.
Me: Nothing, just reiterating what my boss said.
T comes back and still talks to the guy. Same shpiel.
T: I will, this is a private function that you didn't pay to get in.
WG: Man, where does it say this is a private function?
T and I both point to a sign that is centimeters behind the guy
WG: I didn't come in this way, how the F was I supposed to see that (string of bs follows)
To shorten this up, he ends up talking to the general manager while I and another Usher/concetionist stand behind the guy to make sure he doesn't try anything. good thing for us is that we're both big guys.
Eventually T tells us to take a walk and let them deal with the guy. I learn later that not only had the douche been to jail a few times, but T stated, in jest, that WG was the type of person that , from where WG is from ,taking the drink away from him was a sign of disrespect, synonymous with taking another dudes beer away at a bar.
Like I could give a rats ass, the dude was somewhere he wasn't supposed to be and taking things that weren't his. We were fully in our right to act how we did. The kicker is that once the managers talked the guy down (the part i missed) he was allowed to still see his movie.
I'll tell you, what a night.
Quick rundown. Every year, we broadcast the Oscars live into Theatre 1 and charge admission. We have caterers bring in food and beverages and wine. The whole place gets dolled up. People come dressed all fancy and what have you. A real swank thing. The only thing is you have to pay to get in and it isn't open to those who don't pay. Thus it's a private function inside the theatre.
So the evening gets underway and I'm doing the whole, greet at the door thing, when we get a call over the radio that some dude has snuck in.
It doesn't take us long to find him. My manager (T, who just so happens is training to become a cop. Great guy, I love him) comes up to me
T: manager
Me: socialite/greeter/bouncer
WG: Wannabe gangster thing (bout 35 years old) For a reference, see link below. It's not the guy, but you get the general idea. Also, no slight against the artist is intended. Its just a reference.
http://fj5.deviantart.com/art/Thug-Look-48342249
T: Gear, did you take that guys ticket.
Me: *looks in the direction and sees a guy who doesn't belong*
Me: nope
We both head over and intercept the guy who has made his way to the champaign table. Now I can't remember the whole debacle verbatim so, bear with me.
T: *takes champaign away from guy who had already taken a sip*
T: Sir, you can not take this. This is a private function and you didn't pay to get in here.
WG proceeds to get VERY beligerent VERY quickly.
It is important to note at this point that I am very loyal to the people I work with. If something starts to go down, I want to be there to have their backs. This leads me to enter a state of being where if the shit is about to fly, I'm ready to fly with it (i.e. bouncer mode). I have a feeling that this mentality will one day get me killed. Thank god for strength in numbers.
WG: *insert string of expletives*
T: I don't care. this is a private function. you can't come in here.
WG: F you man. F-bomb, F-bomb, F-bomb, F-in knock you out.
T: Just leave
WG: *expletive, expletive etc...."
T: Leave now.
WG: F you man, I payed for my movie ticket.
At this point the ticket taker, sweet little girl that she is, is at a loss for what to do. She's scared shitless.
T: I don't care, I want you gone, so go.
WG: Man, Ill f-in knock you out. What are you gonna do.
T: If you don't leave, I'll call the police.
Me *whips out cell phone, in full view and ready to dial*
WG: Man, call the f-in police, *string of explectives*
T leaves to get some more managers for a few seconds, leaving me to watch the cook. I watch him like a hawk and keep him from swiping a sandwhich.
WG: blah blah blah, your man better watch himself
Me: *sorta audible, sorta undermy breath, coulda gotten my ass kicked for it* yeah yeah, sticks and stones my friend, doors that way.
WG: What you say?
Me: *in my head* Fuck, shoulda kept my mouth shut.
Me: Nothing, just reiterating what my boss said.
T comes back and still talks to the guy. Same shpiel.
T: I will, this is a private function that you didn't pay to get in.
WG: Man, where does it say this is a private function?
T and I both point to a sign that is centimeters behind the guy
WG: I didn't come in this way, how the F was I supposed to see that (string of bs follows)
To shorten this up, he ends up talking to the general manager while I and another Usher/concetionist stand behind the guy to make sure he doesn't try anything. good thing for us is that we're both big guys.
Eventually T tells us to take a walk and let them deal with the guy. I learn later that not only had the douche been to jail a few times, but T stated, in jest, that WG was the type of person that , from where WG is from ,taking the drink away from him was a sign of disrespect, synonymous with taking another dudes beer away at a bar.
Like I could give a rats ass, the dude was somewhere he wasn't supposed to be and taking things that weren't his. We were fully in our right to act how we did. The kicker is that once the managers talked the guy down (the part i missed) he was allowed to still see his movie.
I'll tell you, what a night.
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