good talk

My buddy Joe just turned me onto this. It's written by a NYC bouncer.

Good stuff.

http://standingonthebox.blogspot.com/

Here's a taste :

Stupid, silly life

You know what I don't understand? And I'm being serious here. I don't understand for the life of me how I've managed to stretch this blog into two years of telling you people about bouncing in fucking nightclubs. It's times like these where I sit back and say to myself, "You must be a very fucking talented guy, because you pretty much have the stupidest fucking job on the face of the earth, yet people still want to read about what happens there."

You know what happens in clubs? Nothing. Nothing happens. A few thousand people stand around and get fucked up. Sometimes, they go back to the bathrooms to take leaks. Other times, they go back to the bathrooms to do coke or get blowjobs. Afterward, they go back to where they were, and they stand there for a few more hours. Occasionally, they dance. The men look like retards when they dance. The women don't, so the men follow them around and try to encourage the sex.

A mating ritual ensues. This ritual has made me realize that the people I'm dealing with at the club are several steps down on the evolutionary scale. The women shake their tail feathers. The men strut and preen. Sometimes, they fight over women. Animals do this too. These people can eat a fat dick.

When they fight, we throw them out. Outside, they say a lot of really stupid things. Sometimes they say things that are so stupid that I come home and write them on my website. They're all experts in the use of the double negative. None of them did nothing. All of them did something. I listen to them for a while, and then I get tired and want to go home and go to bed.

When that would happen, I used to take the train home. Sometimes I took the subway, but then I moved and started taking the Long Island Railroad. You take the Long Island Railroad from Penn Station, which is a place that sucks. At 4:30 in the morning at Penn Station, every drunk from every bar and club in Manhattan is waiting to take the train home to Long Island. In Penn Station, they shout, they fight and they throw up. They're socially unacceptable. They made me very tired, so I decided it was time to start driving to work. This meant I'd be putting a lot of wear on my car, and spending money on gas, but it beat sitting around Penn Station with a bunch of drunken Guidos. People who make too much noise in public places are called "cocksuckers."

click on the link to see the rest.