BG
I truly enjoyed the stories, and have read your stuff for a while, even though I rarely post at all. The poker stories remind me of the book 21:Bringing down the house. The team from MIT would use Asians strictly b/c of their background in casinos, loud, careless with money, and flashy. That entire story reminded me of an earlier part in the book. Thanks again for making it interesting, and good luck w/ your future endeavers.
[quote]Ken St.Mich wrote:
No new stories so far.
To honour the rules which many so ruthlessly neglect I post a picture.
I was bored at work so I played with some glow sticks. Nice firm perky glow sticks they were, spending illumination where it was needed [/quote]
That’s one sexy collar bone pic, Ken.
To keep the thread rolling-
What are some of the biggest, baddest fights you guys have seen/been involved in?
[quote]Cprimero wrote:
To keep the thread rolling-
What are some of the biggest, baddest fights you guys have seen/been involved in?[/quote]
We almost lost control of the club one night. Two large groups squared off in the middle of the dance floor with more than a dozen fighting. Just as soon as I could grab one and run him out, I had to run in and grab another. By my third trip, I was actually winded a bit and lost someone I tried to grab and said fuck it.
As the song said, “everybody was kung fu fighting” lol. Anyway, the lights go up, all the females associated with this mess left en masse and we finally restored order about 20 long minutes later. It was a complete disruption wherein normally, we get people out without stopping the party. Later that night, one of the combatants was gunned down and lost his life.
[quote]imhungry wrote:
[quote]Ken St.Mich wrote:
No new stories so far.
To honour the rules which many so ruthlessly neglect I post a picture.
I was bored at work so I played with some glow sticks. Nice firm perky glow sticks they were, spending illumination where it was needed [/quote]
That’s one sexy collar bone pic, Ken.[/quote]
Too skinny? I have to admit they were small, but she was more of an endurance athlete (she made up for it).
Or should I try to capture more of her tits next time?
I guess I really was too fascinated with the glow sticks. There is something to them.
I go where I please and I please where I go.
If you have any criticism or suggestion, feel free to let me know.
[quote]Ken St.Mich wrote:
[quote]imhungry wrote:
[quote]Ken St.Mich wrote:
No new stories so far.
To honour the rules which many so ruthlessly neglect I post a picture.
I was bored at work so I played with some glow sticks. Nice firm perky glow sticks they were, spending illumination where it was needed [/quote]
That’s one sexy collar bone pic, Ken.[/quote]
Too skinny? I have to admit they were small, but she was more of an endurance athlete (she made up for it).
Or should I try to capture more of her tits next time?
I guess I really was too fascinated with the glow sticks. There is something to them.
I go where I please and I please where I go.
If you have any criticism or suggestion, feel free to let me know.
[/quote]
I was just playing with you, Ken.
It amused me that you were so fascinated with the glow sticks, that you hardly got her boobs in the pic.
The more pics the better, when it comes to a thread like this. You get the feel of the environment that you guys have to work in.
[quote]TheBodyGuard wrote:
We almost lost control of the club one night. Two large groups squared off in the middle of the dance floor with more than a dozen fighting. Just as soon as I could grab one and run him out, I had to run in and grab another. By my third trip, I was actually winded a bit and lost someone I tried to grab and said fuck it.
[/quote]
I had a similar situation, where 2 people were arguing aggressively.
Me and a coworker saw it and because they wouldn t stop, we wanted to throw them out.
He took one, I took one, same procedure as every evening I thought as I approached the exit.
No, not this time.
The skinny freak somehow managed to grab a column and held onto it as if we were in a space shuttle with a broken window and everything would get sucked out until the pressure is equalised.
So I pulled, dragged, hauled and stretched. He still was hanging there, both feet in the air and wouldn t let go as I felt increasingly frustrated.
So I thought leave it, he fought so hard, he deserves to stay at the party a little longer. He deserved the purple heart of leathery.
Any normal guy would have been pulled of or torn in two.
I also remember a concert where I was positioned at the stage and had to throw out a couple of people.
That event was like a parcour for bouncers.
I had to take them of the stage, shove through the crowd out of the building, push them up a hill to the exit and then run to the stage to repeat.
While removing a more compliant guest, I stopped midway to take a short rest.
“What, can I stay now?”
“No, I ve been doing this all evening. Just wait.”
“Work sucks, right?”
“Yes, alright, let s go.”
A bit of judicious pressure point application would have your space shuttle passenger howling in agony and quickly releasing his grip 
Fuck
A few weeks ago I started bar tending again at a little dive bar on the U St. corridor in DC. (for those of you who didn’t get the memo, I “semi-retired” for a while so I can focus on my kids, so I decided to pick up the key again to get out of the house one or two nights a week while MAKING money instead of SPENDING money)
Now the U street corridor is a pretty eclectic mix with a heavy African influence (many Ethiopian, Nigerian and Kenyan owned bars) so the clientele follows the area. That being said, there is a good mix of ALL kinds of folks. So last week, one of my regulars brings in a “Rastafarian” guy.
This guy comes off as down to earth, really spiritual, cool dude, into music and weed, has dreads down his back, refers to the older guys as “elders” and everyone else as “brother” or “sister”… ALMOST to the point where it’s annoying, cuz he tries to talk your fucking ear off with stories of “spiritual awakening” and shit. NTTATWWT, but I’m trying to make a fucking drink for other customers, so I can’t sit there and listen to his bullshit for minutes at a time.
I later find out that the guy has been in and out drinking since two in the after noon (my shift started at 8). He is a little “off”, but in a seemingly benign way.
So the night goes on. We close the doors at three and most of the people leave except the owners, their friends and a few regulars - the party continues but is winding down. So, of course, a fight breads out at the end between two African guys. They are screaming at each other in French, so I have no idea what it’s about.
So the management takes one guy out the front, and one guy out the back. The security at this place is a joke and at one point, a few of the regulars (AND this Rastafarian guy) stepped in and helped break it up. I had stayed behind the bar at first, but ended up helping to get one of the guys out the front door.
So that pretty much killed the party. So we turn on the lights, subtly telling everyone who didn’t work there to GTFO, but this Rasta guy wont leave. He said he can’t find his Guinness. I tell him that he can’t take it out of the bar anyway and that it’s time to go. We go back and forth a few times, and I signal the manager that this guy is becoming a problem.
Before he has a chance to do anything, the Rasta guy flips up the counter and comes back behind MY bar and starts opening up the beer cooler! All the time muttering, “I’m gonna get my Guinness”. It’s a long bar that runs half the length of the club, so I’m about ten or fifteen feet away. So the owner, the bar manager and I all yell at the same time, “Get out from behind the bar!”. So I rush over there and the the guy gets in a defensive posture next to the beer cooler and starts reaching for one of the bottles on my rail…
Now the security is on the other side of the counter and I see the fat ass manager is getting in the way of them getting behind the bar, the scene is kinda comical in a way, but this guy is going to have a weapon in his hand in less than a second, so I took the guy down myself. THEN the “security” gets there and drags him out! Fucking amateur hour! Nothing like a lack of security to fuck up a good time. I’m sure I’ll have more stories as the summer progresses.
Nice thread, BG. As was stated above, you sure do have a talent for writing. I happy to finally contribute.
I ve had an interesting converation last night at work.
There was a bit chubby girl (she was alright by most peoples opinion but a bit too much for me) and her skinny friend who tried to leave with their drinks.
“Hey you can t take any drinks outside.”
“You re so mean.” She thens tries to discuss this.
“Do you know those security guards who are always friendly and trying to make the guests feel better?”
“Yes, they are nice.”
“I am not one of those security guards.”
“Ohhh you re such an ass. What would you do if I just hide it under my shirt?”
“I d think what s that fat girl hiding under her shirt and then you couldn t get it out anyways.”
“What so you re calling me fat?” (she seems histerically)
“Well, there is a bit, it s hard to tell, I guess I should take a closer look” (I opened up her blouse in a professional way).
“How do you like that?”
“Fair enough, they re alright.” (Indeed they were)
“My tits are great.”
“Turn round, I ll have to see some more.”
She turns around and talks highly about her butt. “Are you convinced now?”
I slap it and diplomatically reply “I ve had better.” (Don t want to hurt anyones feelings)
I could see that her skinny friend was less than glad about the whole conversation.
As she walks out she tells me “He s not my boyfriend.”
“Give him something to eat anyway.”
[quote]Ken St.Mich wrote:
I ve had an interesting converation last night at work.
There was a bit chubby girl (she was alright by most peoples opinion but a bit too much for me) and her skinny friend who tried to leave with their drinks.
“Hey you can t take any drinks outside.”
“You re so mean.” She thens tries to discuss this.
“Do you know those security guards who are always friendly and trying to make the guests feel better?”
“Yes, they are nice.”
“I am not one of those security guards.”
“Ohhh you re such an ass. What would you do if I just hide it under my shirt?”
“I d think what s that fat girl hiding under her shirt and then you couldn t get it out anyways.”
“What so you re calling me fat?” (she seems histerically)
“Well, there is a bit, it s hard to tell, I guess I should take a closer look” (I opened up her blouse in a professional way).
“How do you like that?”
“Fair enough, they re alright.” (Indeed they were)
“My tits are great.”
“Turn round, I ll have to see some more.”
She turns around and talks highly about her butt. “Are you convinced now?”
I slap it and diplomatically reply “I ve had better.” (Don t want to hurt anyones feelings)
I could see that her skinny friend was less than glad about the whole conversation.
As she walks out she tells me “He s not my boyfriend.”
“Give him something to eat anyway.”[/quote]
Unless you took it out of her ass and put it into her mouth later that night, you’re a fag.
Fuck you, didn t I write she was too chubby?
TheBodyGuard has a great writing style. It almost reminds me of the style Hunter S Thompson used in “Hell’s Angels”
[quote]angry chicken wrote:
A few weeks ago I started bar tending again at a little dive bar on the U St. corridor in DC. (for those of you who didn’t get the memo, I “semi-retired” for a while so I can focus on my kids, so I decided to pick up the key again to get out of the house one or two nights a week while MAKING money instead of SPENDING money)
Now the U street corridor is a pretty eclectic mix with a heavy African influence (many Ethiopian, Nigerian and Kenyan owned bars) so the clientele follows the area. That being said, there is a good mix of ALL kinds of folks. So last week, one of my regulars brings in a “Rastafarian” guy.
This guy comes off as down to earth, really spiritual, cool dude, into music and weed, has dreads down his back, refers to the older guys as “elders” and everyone else as “brother” or “sister”… ALMOST to the point where it’s annoying, cuz he tries to talk your fucking ear off with stories of “spiritual awakening” and shit. NTTATWWT, but I’m trying to make a fucking drink for other customers, so I can’t sit there and listen to his bullshit for minutes at a time.
I later find out that the guy has been in and out drinking since two in the after noon (my shift started at 8). He is a little “off”, but in a seemingly benign way.
So the night goes on. We close the doors at three and most of the people leave except the owners, their friends and a few regulars - the party continues but is winding down. So, of course, a fight breads out at the end between two African guys. They are screaming at each other in French, so I have no idea what it’s about.
So the management takes one guy out the front, and one guy out the back. The security at this place is a joke and at one point, a few of the regulars (AND this Rastafarian guy) stepped in and helped break it up. I had stayed behind the bar at first, but ended up helping to get one of the guys out the front door.
So that pretty much killed the party. So we turn on the lights, subtly telling everyone who didn’t work there to GTFO, but this Rasta guy wont leave. He said he can’t find his Guinness. I tell him that he can’t take it out of the bar anyway and that it’s time to go. We go back and forth a few times, and I signal the manager that this guy is becoming a problem.
Before he has a chance to do anything, the Rasta guy flips up the counter and comes back behind MY bar and starts opening up the beer cooler! All the time muttering, “I’m gonna get my Guinness”. It’s a long bar that runs half the length of the club, so I’m about ten or fifteen feet away. So the owner, the bar manager and I all yell at the same time, “Get out from behind the bar!”. So I rush over there and the the guy gets in a defensive posture next to the beer cooler and starts reaching for one of the bottles on my rail…
Now the security is on the other side of the counter and I see the fat ass manager is getting in the way of them getting behind the bar, the scene is kinda comical in a way, but this guy is going to have a weapon in his hand in less than a second, so I took the guy down myself. THEN the “security” gets there and drags him out! Fucking amateur hour! Nothing like a lack of security to fuck up a good time. I’m sure I’ll have more stories as the summer progresses.
Nice thread, BG. As was stated above, you sure do have a talent for writing. I happy to finally contribute.
[/quote]
we must hang out soon i have much more time on my hands now so get at me.
I’m going to have to start writing about the characters in the poker room…just to stay sharp However, unfortunately, I’d have to heavily edit it…not sure if there would be much left to entertain 
A suspicious vehicle (any vehicle is suspicious at nite on my rural, dead end street which is presently closed) passed my house last night, turned around, and parked at the edge of my 2nd driveway, just out of site of my house (or so the driver thought) and turned off the lights. I was watching from the porch. I went inside to retrieve 45 ways for him to potentially evacuate if he was up to no good and I guess he saw me coming back out whereupon the lights when on and he sped off. Maybe I’ll have a home based story to tell soon