I’ve been kicked, laughed at, made fun of, yelled at, lied to, cussed at, called names, and given unnecessary grief. I’ve caught jumpers, weed smokers, underage drinkers, taken tickets, attached wristbands, and attended the guest list all while working the door. One of the promoters told me seven months ago that working the door was one of the most stressful jobs you could have at the Concert House.
A truer statement in the world there is not.
Over the past few shows I have been making more and more small mistakes. This has compounded the amount of stress that is usually brought down on my head. It hasn’t been anything worthy of firing me, but it has brought forth a wave of scrutiny.
As of standing I am no longer the door man.
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Your jaw might have just dropped. I did enjoy the job, but now it weighs me down like a pair of shackles on a chain gang. So, when they told me that I didn’t have the position my back suddenly became straighter. My mood elevated and I walked back into the venue feeling better than I had in a long time.
This is the same job I started with, roving. When I first started I was very up tight. I could count the number of concerts I had attended on one hand. I had never been a bouncer. I had no idea what was in the venue or what people were capable of. I did my best to look tough. I don’t know if it worked because they put me on the door after a month and a half. After seeing so many people at the door, you start to get a feel of who comes to what shows. You now roughly how many are going to walk through the door, how they are going to dance, how much they’ll probably drink, and even estimate the number of ejections.
With this knowledge I glide through the crowd looking for the tell tale signs of mischief and wrong doing. I don’t have to look tough. After being punched in the face and kicked a few times I feel tough and most of the crowd recognizes it. I am coming to enjoy the little things my boss asks of me. No longer am I chained to the doors I get to be helpful in a different capacity.
For example I had a mother come in looking for her son who wasn’t supposed to be there. So, I got to escort her throught the concert until she found him. She was not happy and I took the time to shoo away one of his little friends who wanted to ask him something before leaving. We also aided in keeping several patrons sober of narcotics when we busted a fellow who was the head of distribution ring. He didn’t have anything on him, but the excessive amount of cash in his pockets was enough to incriminate him. He has been permanently banned from the venue. I help the handicapped up and down the elevators, look for lost items and, clean up when necessary.
I will also have to engage the patrons more. Where it was once my job to keep them out now I have to throw them out. It is my job to escort those to drunk to party to the door. I have to walk underagers out of the venue when they get caught drinking. I take people’s funny cigarettes and crush them in front of them. I shoo people out of the dark corners of the venue. During foam parties I walk out amongst the foam and at heavy metal concerts I stand near the mosh pit. I am one of the ones whose job is to keep the heart beating safely of every concert that turns on an amplifier.
There are some rules I have to be tough on, but now that I have a feel for the crowds I get to pick an choose which ones I enforce and how thoroughly I enforce them. It is nice to be able to make those kinds of calls instead of being the puppet at the door.
You never truly start over as your experiences can never be erased from your person.
Don’t forget to check out the rest of Concert House Rocks
Thanks for reading,