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Our Wonderful Scene
Jun. 19th, 2004 01:50 amSo I get a phonecall from my little brother, really upset.
He's been thrown out of "Boom Boom Saloon" because he was in a toilet cubicle, having a shit, someone was ragging on the door and he shouted "GO FUCK YOURSELF, I'M HAVING A SHIT".
And when he leaves the cubicle, he's grabbed by bouncers and shown the door.
Half an hour later, in the middle of the call to me to say that he's alone and skint and outside the club, doesn't know why he was ejected, knows for a fact that the bouncing staff aren't going to give him the time of day, praying to god Cat or Jake have heard that he's out here.
Fortunately, Jake turns up, mid-call. Ryan gets let back in. I give it ten minutes and call him back.
Ryan's back in the place, but with the deeply-ingrained feeling that the bouncing staff didn't want to let him in.
We have grown up throwing kit into gigs, getting in fights, stopping fights, drinking, dancing, trashing, fighting.
Our dad was a DJ, playing out to house clubs, cracking tonnes more shit than I dare put down myself and basically scaring the shit out the whole universe until very fucking recently, when he hit his mid fifties and decided he should probably stop DJing and get a salary job.
We go out. We club. We know how to deal with bouncers, 'cos we're throwing the kit in at the start and smiling and waving at the end. Ryan is not stupid.
And I asked "who kicked you the fuck out?" "Some man/woman - I'm not sure, look of fucking death, there's no way they're letting me back in".
So I asked "Hard face. Leathery skin. Inderterminate gender, but you don't want to fucking mess, right?"
"Yeah."
"Yeah. I know her."
She kicked me out the once. Then, another time, she let me in and we chatted while I was fuckered and she was the sweetest person I ever met.
I understand that our various scenes need to be protected.
I understand that we prefer somewhere "safe" to go.
But I would like to go to a place that takes the relevant precautions, but does NOT act like the cocking world revolves around their poxy little scene. IS open to a human talking to a human about a problem. TALKS to someone before ejecting them. AT THE LEAST, lets them get in touch with their friends inside if they're stranded.
Since when was it the job of our "protectors" to isolate, discriminate against and strand people, even IF they caused shit?
I have, for my sins, been kicked out of a great many clubs, a great many times.
I have to say that I have, on the whole, been treated well.
You HAVE to be polite and firm about what you need.
"I understand that you won't let me back in, but I will DIE if I don't get my coat. Here's my ticket. I CAN'T leave without it. I NEED my phone. It's HERE. PLEASE get it for me, because I CAN'T leave without it."
I've been very lucky.
I've been bad and I've been unlucky, and it hasn't made a difference who was to blame, when you're kicked, you're kicked.
Don't try to argue about the fact the you're kicked.
Smile, thank them for being reasonable about it.
Ask politely about how you can get your shit back.
Apologise for being an ass.
Ask AGAIN to get your shit back.
Continute to be polite and apologetic, but do NOT leave until you have your shit and you can get home SAFE.
Because any club in the world can phone you cab, even if they just turfed you out, and if they don't try to help you get home safe, they can be in a whole world of shit for putting you in a vulnerable state.
Look after yourself, people.
Always have a phone.
Always have SOMEONE you can call ANYTIME.
NEVER be afraid, even if you got kicked out for setting fire to the DJ's cock, to ask for your coat. You MUST be safe to get home.
If you *have* a phone, DON'T be afraid to call the cops but ONLY if you have expended all options and are being intimidated or treated unreasonably by the bouncers.
And remember: These people deal with a lot of cunts. If you can be a nice person to them, even if you have to suck a little cock and make them feel a bit big, someone a bit big with the power to sort you out or send you packing can be your friend in an instant, or your enemy for ever.
It's fucking foul out there. Keep a phone. Keep an eye out. Keep cab fare home or a card that works. Watch your fuckin' back.
He's been thrown out of "Boom Boom Saloon" because he was in a toilet cubicle, having a shit, someone was ragging on the door and he shouted "GO FUCK YOURSELF, I'M HAVING A SHIT".
And when he leaves the cubicle, he's grabbed by bouncers and shown the door.
Half an hour later, in the middle of the call to me to say that he's alone and skint and outside the club, doesn't know why he was ejected, knows for a fact that the bouncing staff aren't going to give him the time of day, praying to god Cat or Jake have heard that he's out here.
Fortunately, Jake turns up, mid-call. Ryan gets let back in. I give it ten minutes and call him back.
Ryan's back in the place, but with the deeply-ingrained feeling that the bouncing staff didn't want to let him in.
We have grown up throwing kit into gigs, getting in fights, stopping fights, drinking, dancing, trashing, fighting.
Our dad was a DJ, playing out to house clubs, cracking tonnes more shit than I dare put down myself and basically scaring the shit out the whole universe until very fucking recently, when he hit his mid fifties and decided he should probably stop DJing and get a salary job.
We go out. We club. We know how to deal with bouncers, 'cos we're throwing the kit in at the start and smiling and waving at the end. Ryan is not stupid.
And I asked "who kicked you the fuck out?" "Some man/woman - I'm not sure, look of fucking death, there's no way they're letting me back in".
So I asked "Hard face. Leathery skin. Inderterminate gender, but you don't want to fucking mess, right?"
"Yeah."
"Yeah. I know her."
She kicked me out the once. Then, another time, she let me in and we chatted while I was fuckered and she was the sweetest person I ever met.
I understand that our various scenes need to be protected.
I understand that we prefer somewhere "safe" to go.
But I would like to go to a place that takes the relevant precautions, but does NOT act like the cocking world revolves around their poxy little scene. IS open to a human talking to a human about a problem. TALKS to someone before ejecting them. AT THE LEAST, lets them get in touch with their friends inside if they're stranded.
Since when was it the job of our "protectors" to isolate, discriminate against and strand people, even IF they caused shit?
I have, for my sins, been kicked out of a great many clubs, a great many times.
I have to say that I have, on the whole, been treated well.
You HAVE to be polite and firm about what you need.
"I understand that you won't let me back in, but I will DIE if I don't get my coat. Here's my ticket. I CAN'T leave without it. I NEED my phone. It's HERE. PLEASE get it for me, because I CAN'T leave without it."
I've been very lucky.
I've been bad and I've been unlucky, and it hasn't made a difference who was to blame, when you're kicked, you're kicked.
Don't try to argue about the fact the you're kicked.
Smile, thank them for being reasonable about it.
Ask politely about how you can get your shit back.
Apologise for being an ass.
Ask AGAIN to get your shit back.
Continute to be polite and apologetic, but do NOT leave until you have your shit and you can get home SAFE.
Because any club in the world can phone you cab, even if they just turfed you out, and if they don't try to help you get home safe, they can be in a whole world of shit for putting you in a vulnerable state.
Look after yourself, people.
Always have a phone.
Always have SOMEONE you can call ANYTIME.
NEVER be afraid, even if you got kicked out for setting fire to the DJ's cock, to ask for your coat. You MUST be safe to get home.
If you *have* a phone, DON'T be afraid to call the cops but ONLY if you have expended all options and are being intimidated or treated unreasonably by the bouncers.
And remember: These people deal with a lot of cunts. If you can be a nice person to them, even if you have to suck a little cock and make them feel a bit big, someone a bit big with the power to sort you out or send you packing can be your friend in an instant, or your enemy for ever.
It's fucking foul out there. Keep a phone. Keep an eye out. Keep cab fare home or a card that works. Watch your fuckin' back.
