Door

The first lesson that I learned in my new place of business is that one must be able to do every job in the house. It was a difficult first lesson to learn. When my boss, Jin, told me it was time to learn every job in the house, I said no problem.

"Good," he said, and revealed a plunger he was hiding behind his back, "because there is a toilet clogged in the women's room." I let out a small sigh and took the plunger, hoping for a smile to crack his face. I'm sure it did as soon as my back was turned, headed towards the bathroom.

My most recent departure from the comfort and confidence I have behind the bar is working the door. Allow me to explain.

Darna, on a saturday night, is a war zone; highly organized chaos. I am quite used to the routine of putting out fires on the service floor, from dealing with guest complaints to expediting table service. I know how to run a lounge. Part of my comfort of running the club is that I know I have a few muscle bound Serbians floating around, ready to pounce. I've met a ton of bouncers in my day, and the Serbians are by far and away the best. They're always dressed nicely, they're not just big, they are tough, and have a demented sense of humor that I find particularly hilarious. The best comedian couldn't get a smile out of any of my guys, but every time I pretend to stab them with my bottle opener that looks like a butterfly knife, I get a few quality minutes of laughter.

The door at Darna was a mess. We didn't have ropes and people would simply crowd the door. No line, no order, just chaos. Finally we got ropes, and Jin would send me to the ground floor to work the door.

I'm no slouch. Anyone who knows what to look for in the broken bones in a man's face or the scars on his hands can see that I am what you would call "weathered." Years of fighting in the ring and outside of it have made me, as Sarah likes to say, "ruggedly handsome." However unlike my bouncers, I am not a large, musclebound man, so the idiots that should be intimidated by me don't really know any better. Being a small man and working the door makes the job difficult, and being the guy that ultimately decides if you get in or not, I have to take a lot of shit. After all, as Big Sean, a former bouncer once said, "I'm not a bouncer, I'm a customer service agent."

Now, the door is an animal different from the rest of the venue. It is a double sided knife because on one hand you need to make people feel valued yet exclusive. There are friends of the owners and regulars who just get in, even if the line is being held. People in the line will yell at you, (which. by the way, literally NEVER works) or they will be clever.

A few of my favorites:
Guy: Hey nice tie clip. Bruins fan eh?
Me: Thanks! You a fan?
Guy: Oh hell yea! We're gonna take the cup this year.
Me: What do you think about Timmy Thomas this year? He is putting on one hell of a show...
Guy: Thomas is the best, dude. Saving our ass left and right.
Me: TRICK QUESTION! TIM THOMAS IS SITTING OUT! NOW EVERYONE WILL WAIT!
(Line groans.)

I'm a particular fan of the old "Hey bro, I know the owner..." approach. This also rarely works, mostly because I simply tell them, "Ok, well call them. Tell them to call me on my radio and I'll let you right up."

I've also become very fond of bribery attempts. Now for your average door guy, this is a sound approach and likely your best option. This is the least effective method for me, however, because I'm already making a salary. As soon as I close the restaurant downstairs, I work the line. I'm already getting paid for the previous 14 hours of work, and this is just an exercise in organization. I'm often offered bribes, or even tips, and I always say no.

The biggest key is to try to not look at anyone, and to never get angry. You don't make eye contact because it invites excuses and I don't much feel like listening to them. More importantly, never get angry, because someone can hate you more than anything else, making them wait for an hour outside, but as soon as they get in, all will be forgiven.

Stay thirsty.