Tuesday, 7 September 2010

Door Politics

Working the door, in this case stairwell of a pub is extremely glamorous; you are effectively a bouncer standing there armed with two sheets of paper. Crowd control is your principal task, when you omit the trade mark bomber jacket and arm i.d. you become a sitting duck for preying males. Striking a balance between passing the time in polite conversation and giving off the appropriate signals 'talk, but don't think it's going to get you my number'. The more intoxicated a person gets the less in tune he becomes, happy to engage in banter, but not a date. I made the schoolboy mistake of detracting from one companion to another in the hope he would get the message nicely and buggar off - this only led to companion no.2 asking no.1 if 'I' was single. Fail. The problem had multiplied.

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