If The Jacket Fits…

As a student, I used to moonlight as a bouncer with my girlfriend and a few other biker students at the university union for rock bands. I’m not that big but have long hair, a beard, and tats. One night, we were all working as usual and had put our leather jackets under the ticket desk as the venue was very hot. The gig was busy and we were occupied all night dealing with the crowd.

Come gig finish, we came out to discover that the steward on the door had been called away and both my leather and my friend’s leather had walked. Seriously annoyed and out of pocket a few hundred pounds, I went to get a drink.

At the bar was a man wearing my friend’s very distinctive brown leather jacket. I approached him and said this, and he apologised profusely and stated he had been sold it by a man in the bar earlier for 50 pounds. He apologised and took it off. Underneath, he was wearing my jacket.

I took his arm and said we were going to security. He took my jacket off and said he had purchased that one, as well, but I still walked him to the security desk.

At the last moment, he wriggled free and bolted across the gravel car park with me in pursuit. Just before I ran out of puff, he slipped and went facedown in the gravel, tearing his face and arms to shreds.

After I took him back and waited for the police, he then informed them that I had assaulted him and pushed him into the gravel.

The cop just listened to my story, twisted his arms behind his back, and cuffed him. Did help he was a police motorcycle cop that I helped out teaching safe biking to teenagers with, I suppose.