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G'morning, folks.
The last two nights were... quiet. I dunno whether we had shows that were going on at the major venues or if everyone was still hung over from Fiesta or what, but there were a shortage of derps at the bar. Not to say there wasn't any whatsoever...
Me: Yep.
SC: Yyyyep.
CC: Uh-huh.
T: Door girl.
K: Promoter.
R: The head bartender.
Ri: One of our senior bartenders.
IAMABOVETHELAW!!! *squik*
(R pointed out someone who was obviously getting too obnoxious. He wasn't seriously wasted, but alcohol has a nasty habit of bringing out the worst in people. Apparently this guy turned into Glenn Beck after four beers. I escort him out, and when we get outside...)
SC: I dunno why you guys're throwing me out.
Me: I don't know either, but we only throw people out for either harassing other customers or being dicks to the staff. Either way, they point them out, I send 'em off.
SC: Aight. But I'll be back tomorrow, 'cause I'm the law.
Me: ...'K.
(SC leaves. 'I am the law'? The boy must really like his cop shows.)
Damn you, Roger Daltrey.
(Lately, I've had to add a flea-market cap that says 'SECURITY' to my usual outfit. Between Fiesta and summer, we usually get a decent-sized crowd, and if anything happens, they need to know who the good guys are. The most common question, which everyone asked me repeatedly?)
SC: You work here?
(No, chicks dig the hat. That's why I wear it and the gloves, and why I walk around the bar and don't drink. *facepalm*)
Looky-no-touchy!
(I'm starting to think that a good number of the SCs that show up know when my shift starts. Not even 20 minutes after my shift started lasted night, Ri calls me to escort an SC out. It takes a couple tries, but eventually he starts heading toward the door... just in time to see four rather good-looking girls walk in. Instead of leaving like a good boy, he gets close enough to one of the girls to put them, Ri and me, on alert. We don't even give him a chance to say or do anything to them, we just grab his arms and physically remove him from the bar.
The minute he's outside, he starts to walk off, then turns around and tries to head back in. Face-first into the wall of all things, not because of anything we did, but because his sense of balance completely failed him.)
And that, folks, is the end of this weekend's derp list. I've got next week off, but keep an eye on the Sightings board...
The last two nights were... quiet. I dunno whether we had shows that were going on at the major venues or if everyone was still hung over from Fiesta or what, but there were a shortage of derps at the bar. Not to say there wasn't any whatsoever...
Me: Yep.
SC: Yyyyep.
CC: Uh-huh.
T: Door girl.
K: Promoter.
R: The head bartender.
Ri: One of our senior bartenders.
IAMABOVETHELAW!!! *squik*
(R pointed out someone who was obviously getting too obnoxious. He wasn't seriously wasted, but alcohol has a nasty habit of bringing out the worst in people. Apparently this guy turned into Glenn Beck after four beers. I escort him out, and when we get outside...)
SC: I dunno why you guys're throwing me out.
Me: I don't know either, but we only throw people out for either harassing other customers or being dicks to the staff. Either way, they point them out, I send 'em off.
SC: Aight. But I'll be back tomorrow, 'cause I'm the law.
Me: ...'K.
(SC leaves. 'I am the law'? The boy must really like his cop shows.)
Damn you, Roger Daltrey.
(Lately, I've had to add a flea-market cap that says 'SECURITY' to my usual outfit. Between Fiesta and summer, we usually get a decent-sized crowd, and if anything happens, they need to know who the good guys are. The most common question, which everyone asked me repeatedly?)
SC: You work here?
(No, chicks dig the hat. That's why I wear it and the gloves, and why I walk around the bar and don't drink. *facepalm*)
Looky-no-touchy!
(I'm starting to think that a good number of the SCs that show up know when my shift starts. Not even 20 minutes after my shift started lasted night, Ri calls me to escort an SC out. It takes a couple tries, but eventually he starts heading toward the door... just in time to see four rather good-looking girls walk in. Instead of leaving like a good boy, he gets close enough to one of the girls to put them, Ri and me, on alert. We don't even give him a chance to say or do anything to them, we just grab his arms and physically remove him from the bar.
The minute he's outside, he starts to walk off, then turns around and tries to head back in. Face-first into the wall of all things, not because of anything we did, but because his sense of balance completely failed him.)
And that, folks, is the end of this weekend's derp list. I've got next week off, but keep an eye on the Sightings board...
I write, my friend Red draws. Comments welcome. Leave them on their, or on my profile here. 
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