Door Guy
2003-02-08 � 9:51 a.m.

So, I worked the door at The Bonfire last night.

I didn't want to do it for a number of reasons that mostly revolve around the fact that I am socially inept and shy. I don't want to be the one person in the bar that's talked to everybody...but that's the role of the door guy.

I got roped into this because I was dumb. A few weeks or a month ago George asked my friend Roger if he would check I.D. at the door on Fridays and Saturdays. Roger agreed and, I'll admit it, I was a little jealous. I like George, I like the bar, and I like everyone who works there. I wanted (still want) to feel like more than just a customer.

So I piped up, and I said that if Roger ever wanted a night off or anything, I'd be glad to fill in for the evening. Everyone nodded and agreed, yeah sure whatever.

Like I said, that's been a while ago. Roger's been working the door every Friday and Saturday night, the bar's been doing well, everyone's happy, I completely forgot about my offer.

Until Roger needed to go out of town this weekend.

George asked me on Sunday, "Hey...what are you doing on Friday?"

Normally when he asks me this question, and I reply with my usual "nothing" he asks me if I want to go to a show or something. This time he asked me to work the door. D'oh!

So there I was, spot-on nine p.m. last night, standing at the door like a dolt, grabbing I.D. from everyone who came in. It was busy enough that I had to stand outside, which sucked a bunch because it was ass-cold out there.

Luckily Trevor is going to do it tonight, because I worked a ten-hour day yesterday, then four hours on the door at The Bonfire, and came into work at eight this morning for another ten-hour shift. I don't think I could do another night. Hopefully, I'll never have to do it again.

There were interesting aspects to it though. Like, I learned that it's true that it's really hard to judge a person's age by looking at them. At least, it's hard for me — but then I've always had a hard time with it. Plus I was shocked at how many out-of-stated I.D.'s I got. Wyoming, Wisconsin, Illinois, Montana, Texas, New Jersey...and of course the expected Washington and California ones.

I also learned that there are a lot of people who consider themselves "regulars" at The Bonfire that I've never seen before, have never seen me, and were amazed that anyone was checking I.D. at the door.

Come on kids — how "regular" can you really be then? We've been doing it for over a month and half!

I only had to turn away two people, and them only because they just plain didn't have their I.D. How do you go out to a bar and not bring your I.D.? Of all the people that came in, the youngest was twenty-three, which surprised me some. It surprised me almost as much as all the people coming in who were over forty.

It was stressful, because there is absolutely no room for error, and I'd never done it before. If I had screwed up and let some underage kid in the door and the bartender poured him a drink, it's the bartender's ass, which is a lot of responsibility. I was thirty minutes into it before I remembered to start checking the backs of the Oregon I.D.'s for the barcode. Sheesh...what an amateur.

I suppose, like anything else, if I had to do it over and over it would get easier, but it's really not my kind of a job. I'd much rather be doing something else.

Like going to a rock show. Well what do you know...Charmparticles are playing tonight! Looks like I get to reward myself with Rock.

-t

Currently Aurally Inducing: My Regrets, Dead Again
Selection of the Lyrical Vocabulary: "...my ex-girl with a man and she's holding his hand for my eyes. yeah just for mine..."

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