🍺 The Bouncer
First Draft Created: 2024-05-06 18:45
Last Updated: 1 month, 3 weeks ago
A.k.a "This Place Blows"
We felt the disenchantment set in as we entered the room, as the enchantment made room for it and quickly set off. I trepidatiously led the way in through the doorway. Our friend group's palpable deflation and detectable dejection I sensed without even having to turn around, due to the sighs, trailed-off sentences and suddenly halted footsteps of the stunned.
We had all expected this to be an upmarket venue. We had driven across town for this apparent gem of a restaurant-slash-club. But it turned out, our hopes were destined to be dashed.
"Upfront!" the man at the door snarled, jerking his thumb at a signboard menu above the bar, and I realised with shock that he was referring to our bill.
"I ... I haven't ... ordered...we just got here..."
"Upfront."
He pointed upward, towards the most expensive seafood item at the very bottom right corner of the three-section dusty chalkboard, right next to someone's badly streaked attempt at chalkboard art. "Plus tip" he added.
Of course my mind said. Gary *would lead us to the dodgiest place in the shadiest neighbourhood imaginable where they full-on expect people to leave without paying.* I glanced uneasily at the heavily barred windows, resembling a prison cell.
Never let him choose where we go again I chastised myself.
This time I would keep that resolution. At least I now had something to settle on for New Year.
Reluctantly, I paid, handing over a small, tight roll of cash for our entire party who were all panicked and fumbling around for change, not having known about the cash-only rule.
I feared I would never see my money again, but paying this weird form of deposit under the watchful glare of the scarred doorman whose entire aura radiated "you should see the other guy" seemed a small price to pay for our freedom from this altercation.
I wasn't sure whether he had been a bouncer or a pirate in a past life. Or in a present one, I thought wryly, as this was a seafood restaurant.
He gave a single, sharp nod downwards, and removed the cord blocking our entry, and I was relieved to be free of our impasse and his belligerence.
I hoped my friends would not spot how insecure I felt. Nothing quite so emasculating as being reprimanded by the door guy.
The volume of the music grew louder as we stepped in, searching for...
"HEYYYY! Y'all MADE it!"
Gary. Loud, even against the club music.
"YEAH SO ANYWAY ..." Our loud, beery-faced, beery-handed friend proclaimed as a greeting, "THIS PLACE BLOWS."
I glanced nervously back at our square-faced massive bouncer - I was going to call him a bouncer - who had clearly heard him, as he did a slow motion turn and glare in my direction. Our eyes met and he slowly, deliberately gave a slight shake of his head, not breaking eye contact.
"SO," Gary said "LET'S JUST GET OUTTA HERE AND GO TO JERRY'S."
Jerry's. Our usual. Also NOT on the other side of town.
"That deposit was a bit steep." I muttered.
"WHAT DEPOSIT?" Gary blared.
We started traipsing out, shoulders slumped, like school-children leaving detention. All except our boorish friend Gary, who, as he staggered by, slapped his beer bottle down on a nearby table - occupied by a young couple - oblivious to their startled looks and the glowering bouncer as he led the way out.
I glanced hopefully at our jailer, hand tentatively outstretched.
His evil glare turned into slow, nasty smile.
"No dice" he said.
We left.
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