Show No Fear: A Bouncer's Diary (9 page)

BOOK: Show No Fear: A Bouncer's Diary
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A few months on now and this weekend was to be my last. I had a feeling there was going to be a few problems. I don’t know why but it seems that sometimes you can sense the negative vibes in the air. The club was full of Welsh rugby supporters that had made the long journey down to London to watch their team take on the English at Twickenham. (Which they lost by the way). Right at the beginning of the evening we notice that three lads are involved in a bit of a scuffle at the bar, which was five deep with rugby fans. I had seen one of them before and I remembered he had a bit of an attitude problem the last time he was here. I go in with Simon and try and calm the situation. The problem was being caused by a local self-styled hard nut, apparently he had been involved in some sort of altercation earlier on but we hadn’t seen what had happened so we give him and his two mates the benefit of the doubt. We went back to the front doors and kept an eye on the three lads from a distance. As I look over towards the bar area the taller of the three gives one of the Rugby supporters a punch in the side of the jaw he goes to the floor and scrambles up to his feet and runs outside. Who does this geezer think he is? Once again Simon and I go in leaving the other two lads on the front doors, but it’s a different attitude from us this time. You three are leaving I say to them, they ignore what I say or they may not of heard me say it, owing to the noise. The taller one of the three punches a guy who is standing at the bar waiting to be served, right in front of us. This bloke’s a bit of a nutter I thought to myself. That old familiar adrenaline rush is making its presence felt big time. We both step in and a scuffle begins, the tall fella turns around and is about to throw his tried and tested right hand punch at me. After a few of these types of confrontations sometimes you can anticipate what is about to happen and counter your attacker. After all I had just seen him throw two right handers my guess is he’ll be throwing another one but you have to look for the signs, that’s where your training comes in. I see his shoulder move back slightly, with his right hand cocked, he also carried his left very low I move off to the right a fraction away from his right and deliver my own right-hander, which lands smack on the point of his chin. The blow knocks him backward four or five feet and onto a table, Simon drags him up to his feet. I say to Simon to get him around the neck and take him outside but he couldn’t manage it the problem being that this guy is about six two and Simon is about five nine. I didn’t want to move forward because I’ve got his two mates either side of me. I have them both in my peripheral vision; they are just waiting for the opportunity to do something the moment my back is turned. It’s a bit of a ball’s up, and where are the other two lads I thought? My guess is that they can’t see what is going on due to the crowds and no radios are in use here either (a communication breakdown). Meanwhile Simon and this fella are engaged in a scuffle, against my better judgement I go in to give him a hand. I had an idea what was going to happen so I was ready for them, as soon as I went forward one of them jumps on my back. That’s it I’ve had enough of these people, they have clearly arrived here with one thing on their minds… trouble and they thought they could come here to bully, frighten and intimidate people. I grab the guy’s arm which is around my neck and execute a really good Judo throw on him, he goes right over my shoulder and for a moment I thought he was going to go through the large plate glass window that over looked the high street. Luckily he lands on a table with a crash scattering and smashing the bottles and glasses as he lands. He must have knocked himself out because I didn’t see him get up. This is all happening extremely fast you understand, the other guy decides to have ago and he also jumps on my back and starts to strangle me from behind, he’s not doing a bad job either and he had a really good grip around my neck.
I could feel myself becoming light headed and my vision was starting to grey out, in a matter of seconds I’ll be going down and out to the floor. I manage to force my hand up the inside part of his elbow and grab the sleeve of his jacket and manage to swing him around in front of me where I deliver a hard jolting left upper cut to his jaw. It was an excellent punch; you know when you have delivered one just right. It had to be if I hadn’t landed that punch I would have gone down. I grab him by the hair and give him two more short sharp well-aimed left hooks/uppercuts to his chin. As I let go of his hair he falls to the floor unconscious where he gets the order of the boot. Actually I think the first punch had knocked him out and it was only by me holding him that was keeping him upright. One of the other lads is involved now and drags the fella out. I didn’t have a clue what else had been happening but as I started to regain some form of normality I hear some very loud hysterical screaming. It was coming from one of the young barmaids; she was looking down at the floor where a crowd was now gathering. I look over and see the guy who Simon was scuffling with earlier lying flat on his back. He was unconscious with blood covering virtually the whole of his face. I get a bit closer; and as I knelt down beside him I could hear that his breathing was very shallow, the music went off and the lights came on illuminating his face, which presented a horrible spectacle. His face was a red mask. With his lips turning blue I had to do something quickly? The blood from his injuries had run down into his throat which was slowly choking him to death, I remembered some basic first aid and checked the A B C, airway breathing and circulation. I tried to turn him on his side into the recovery position checking that he had not swallowed his tongue. I took hold of his head but it was so slippery with all the blood that I lost my grip and it slipped out of my hands and banged into the hard wooden floor with a sickening thud. I managed to get him into the recovery position and I turn him on his side. That seemed to do the trick; and all of the blood that was restricting his breathing was vomited out. Thankfully his breathing started to return to normal but he was still unconscious though. Police and Ambulance arrive and he is taken away.
I asked the lads what had happened, apparently Simon knocked the guy to the ground and then gave him a dozen or so unreturned viscious blows to the face while he was out cold, how stupid was that? He could have died, and for what? We would have all been implicated.
I went into the gent’s toilet to wash the blood off of my gloves and watched the water from the tap turning red as it spiraled its way down into the waste pipe; a few minutes ago it had been quite happily pumping around inside someone’s veins. That’s when I decided this was my last weekend on the door. A punch up is one thing; this was out of order as far as I was concerned. I went back into the bar, the blood had been mopped up, the D J had started up again and the lights had been dimmed. People were drinking, dancing and enjoying themselves within a few minutes as if nothing had happened. I went back the next night and that was that. I had spoken to Pete earlier on the next day and told him that it was going to be my last night at the club, he came down later on that evening and at closing time we had our last nostalgic drink at the place.
The club closed down two months after my departure.

And so my journey into this strange and hazardous occupation has come to an end. What conclusions did I draw from the experience? I can’t say I’m proud of anything except maybe the way I handled my fears and the way that I stood up to certain individuals. All I can say is that I genuinely tried to keep the decent people safe from the drug dealer’s drunk’s bullies and scumbags. We took all the crap so the genuine punter didn’t have to and that’s what the job is all about. At one point I did feel that the violence was taking over but I managed to suppress it successfully enough in the end without too much effort. The experience has changed my thoughts about some things and reinforced my opinions on other issues. The behaviour of people under the influence of drink and drugs was a real eye opener. There are a few decent doormen out there with the same attitude as I had. In fact I know there is, a dying breed but never the less there are a few still out there…However my main conclusion is that
it’s a mugs game ……………and a fucking dangerous one as well.

 

THE END.
Glossary.
Adam and Eve=Believe.
Acker Bilk=Milk.
Biscuits and cheese=Knees.
Battle cruiser = Boozer =Pub.
Bat and wickets= Tickets.
Bonce = Top of the head.
Bottle = Courage.
Butchers = butchers hook = look.
Bacon and eggs= Legs
Bricks and mortar = Daughter.
Brown bread=Dead.
China plate=mate.
Custard pie=Eye.
Dicky bird=Word.
Donald duck=Luck.
Four by two=Jew.
Fourth of July=tie.
Ginger beer=Queer.
Ginger ale=Jail.
Gregory Peck=Neck.
Half inch= pinch=Steal.
Hammer and tack=Back.
Horse and cart=Fart.
Kane and Able = table.
Lady Godiva=Fiver.
Loaf of bread=Head.
Mince pies=Eyes.
Mud hut=Gut.
Nuremburg trials=Piles.
Peckham Rye=Tie.
Plates of meat=Feet.
Pork pies=Lies.
Rabbit and pork=talk.
Roman candles=Sandals.
Rub a dub=Pub.
Scotch peg=Leg.
Septic tank=Yank.
Sky rocket=Pocket.
Syrup of fig=Wig.
Tea leaf=Thief.
Uncle Ned=Bed.
Vera Lyn=Gin.
On your uppers=the soles on your shoes have worn away
leaving only the upper part exposed. = devoid of cash.
Wallies=Idiots.
S P=The starting prices at a race course.
What’s the SP = what’s going on?

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