Bouncing Around The Club Tonight

, , , , | Working | June 22, 2017

(The dance floors of this club are ringed with chairs and counters. I’m sitting out a couple of songs when I spot a bouncer whom I’m convinced has it in for me and is now staring at me. I shrug it off and look elsewhere. But seconds later, I feel him grab my shoulder. I turn to see what he wants and gently lift his hand off, but he grabs me again.)

Me: “Can I… help you?”

Bouncer: “Why are you sitting there?”

Me: “I was a bit tired, so I sat down for a while.”

Bouncer: “You need to go home.”

Me: “I’m not breaking any rules.”

Bouncer: “We can discuss this outside.”

Me: “Er… fine.”

(I follow him out.)

Bouncer: *to the doorman* “I caught him sleeping on the dance floor. He needs to go home.” *marches off*

Me: “What? No. I was just sitting down, because I was a bit tired.”

Doorman: “If you’re feeling tired, you need to go home.”

Me: “No, I mean… fatigued from dancing. I wasn’t sleeping; I don’t know why he got that impression. Look, I haven’t broken any rules and I’m not that drunk.”

Doorman: *considers* “All right. Go back in.”

(I go back in and order another drink (only my fourth) and sit down to drink it. The same bouncer comes my way.)

Bouncer: “I told you to go.”

Me: “The doorman let me back in.”

Bouncer: “But you’re sitting down again. If you’re tired you need to go home.”

Me: *gestures at 20 other people sitting round the dance floor* “Do you do this with everyone who sits down in here?”

(He went off to get another bouncer. By the time they got back, I’d finished my drink and got up to dance again, looking nicely energetic. I saw them next to where I was sitting with him gesturing my way and the other bouncer laughing at him.)

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Creepiness Reaches Full Germination

| Working | May 19, 2017

(I have a weekend job where I serve food at a club. I am a female and my coworkers are male. They’re all great… with one exception. This takes place when I come in early and am eating a salad the head cook made for me.)

Me: *eating salad and minding my own business*

Coworker: *approaching me, rubbing a finger along his mustache*

Me: “What, I got something on my lip?”

Coworker: *doesn’t respond, just keeps advancing on me, rubbing his mustache*

Me: “Seriously, dude, what?”

Coworker: *suddenly sticks his finger in my salad* “My germs! My germs! My germs!”

Me: “You a******!”

(I threw the salad out, and warned the guy to never come near me when I’m eating. He didn’t understand why I was acting “so uptight.” Frankly, I have never been more repulsed by any one person in my life.)

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Desperado For A Disaronno

| Right | May 3, 2017

(It is student night at the club I work in and it is a very busy night with a lot of customers surrounding the bar, when I get these two women:)

Me: “What can I get you?”

Customer #1: “Can I get two vodka cokes and two Disaronnos.”

Me: “Is that as a shot or are you wanting them as a mixer?”

Customer #1: “What? No! Just two Disaronnos!”

Me: “Yes, so just in two-shot glasses then?” *smiling at them as best I can*

Customer #2: “Are you stupid?! How many times does she need to say she just wants two Disaronnos!”

Me: “I understand that, what I don’t understand is how she wants me to give her the order. She has the choice of shot glasses, neat on ice, or in a mixer.”

Customer #2: *points at fridge behind the bar* “I guess since you are too stupid to know what alcohol you sell, she wants two bottles of those.”

Me: “Oh! She wants two bottles of Desperados. Sure! I will get them for you now.”

(I go and make the vodka mixers and open the bottles of Desperados, putting a lime in the top of each bottle.)

Customer #1: “Finally you know what Disaronno is! but you do realise that it’s meant to be lemon slices not lime?

Me: I can assure you it is definitely lime, and Disaronno is a liquor, not a beer. Ask for Desperado in the future.”

Customer #2: “I think you will find your pronunciation of the two are wrong.”

Me: “Is there anything else?”

Customer #2: “Yes, we are paying together. Could I get a triple vodka with half Red Bull and half Pepsi in a tall glass?”

Me: “I’m sorry, but there is a few problems with your order. Firstly we are not legally allowed to sell triples; I can make you a double and shot of vodka and you can add it to your drink yourself, or you can just have a double. Also we don’t do different sizes of glasses, and if you want a mixture of both Red Bull and Pepsi you will have to pay a lot more.”

Customer #2: “I don’t understand how on Earth you ever got this d*** job. I have never known such badly trained staff. I should be served whatever d*** thing I order!”

Me: “I’m sorry for the inconvenience but I am just making sure I don’t break the law.”

Customer #2: “Forget it, then!”

(I just smiled at the two customers, told them how much their order came to, and let them leave. They proceeded to be rude to every member of bar staff that served them until being thrown out by a bouncer for causing trouble.)

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Thrill You More Than Any Ghost Would Dare To Try

| Friendly | September 8, 2016

(My friend and I are out in a club. It’s the sort of place where tables are scattered around and people dance everywhere. We are dancing beside of and sitting at a table and a mixed group of young men and women are sharing our table and the one beside us. They are dancing on and off all night just like us. The song ‘Thriller’ comes on and my friend and I as well as the group beside us are all up dancing. We are in the middle of the group.)

Group: *launches into an amazing choreographed routine, and keep it up for the entire chorus*

Friend & Me: *stare in shock and awe while still dancing in the middle of all this*

Group: *collapses into laughter when chorus is over*

Me: “That was awesome! Are you guys professional dancers?”

Guy: “We’re all dancers in the Michael Jackson musical in London. We’re here for a night off.”

(On their night off from dancing they went dancing. It must be so cool to have a job that you love that much!)

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A Couple Of Couple Problems

| Friendly | January 7, 2016

(I am out with four friends, who are two couples, at a club. We decide to take a rest from dancing and find a nice isolated bench in “L” shape with a table in the middle. To let the couples sit together, I sit in the corner, having one on each side. It’s all nice, we chit chat a bit over the loud music, and get a drink until I take a sip to rest my throat a few seconds, I turn left to continue the conversation, but the couple is passionately kissing. I then turn right; No luck. Passionate kissing on this side, too. I decide to return to my drink, leaving them some time. I usually drink slowly, but notice I have finished my glass. I’m growing frustrated to be stuck there in the middle of a make out session, while being obviously ignored. I try to catch one side or the other attention, to remind them they are not alone, unsuccessfully. At this point I tap shoulders to interrupt, so I could at least leave this spot… They give me the “wait-a-minute-finger.” Having had enough, I stop a passing waiter.)

Me: “Sorry, I know it’s going to be a rude/strange request but as you can see I’m trapped in a bad corner.” *pointing to the couples* “They won’t even stop to let me out of here. Do you mind if I step on the seat to pass over and could you bring me a chair to get down, so I can escape?”

Waiter: “Well, as I have noticed them being at it for quite a while now, I guess you have been more than patient to tolerate this. Give me two minutes. I’ll bring help.”

(To my surprise, the waiter does not came back, but it’s the scary security guy who is coming over. He proceeds to get in between each of both couples, and forces them apart.)

Security: “Ok, guys that enough for tonight. Now, let the lady stuck in the middle get away.”

One Of The Girls: *giggles* “But she’s our friend. Why would she want to get away from us?”

Security: *dead serious on a tone that call for no reply* “Mooove! And get a room!”

(They reluctantly let me get out the bench corner. I could not thank the staff enough for their intervention. And no, I never accepted to go out with them after that. I’m not going to hold the candle again for anyone.)

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