Posted: July 3, 2011 in Entertainment, Work

Last night, as with most weekend nights, I was working my security gig.

One of the bartenders tells me that a guy brought in an outside drink and had the hojos to set it down on the bar. Go time. I tell the dude it’s time to go. He argues a bit, but relents. Proof positive that one dumb move doesn’t have to turn into two. The little girl he’s talking to gets pissed. Gee, I’ve never had that happen before. The guy goes to tell his friends he’s out. The girl gets between me and the guy and starts trying to sweet talk me. She puts her arms around me and grinds her hips a little. I’ve had better. It doesn’t matter, though. I’m on the clock. She gets mad that I’m not so easily manipulated. Frankly, even if I wasn’t working, I think I’d be insulted that she thought she could just rub on me a little and get her way. Fuck that. She backs off. Yells a question about whether I’m “corporate” or some nonsense. Starts making robot gestures. I laugh to myself; she’s accidentally accurate to some degree. I blow past her and walk the dude out the front door. Behind me, the girl is arguing. Another friend of hers who apparently works security for events sides with me and tells her to knock it off. I smile.

Fast-forward twenty minutes or so. I’m out on the enclosed patio. We have a three foot by five foot “No Smoking” sign painted on the wall. It’s apparently invisible because about 70% of my time is wandering out there and telling someone to put out the cigarette. That doesn’t bother me; I get a lot of appreciation from the non-smokers and the people who are eating. I smell smoke, so I go out there. Guess who’s smoking? The little girl who thinks I’m a fascist robot. I laugh again, this time a little less to myself. “Listen, I know you aren’t exactly my biggest fan right now, but you can’t smoke out here.” She flips. Her friend sides with me again. She puts out the cigarette. She’s still bitching as I gather empties. “Look,” I say. “There aren’t a whole lot of rules here. It’s not hard to follow them.” I tell her where she can smoke. I don’t see her again for the rest of the night. It wouldn’t surprise me to learn she got pissed enough to leave.


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