Went out last night with a few friends from work, which was fun. After meeting up in town, we had a few drinks at a pub/bar called "The Robert Peel" and I had a lot of fun pretending to be gay to this totally random girl who I'd never even met before. She was a little flirty, so I figured the best way to push her off was to joke that I'm homosexual. Only, it worked too well, and she believed me!! I'm not that camp, surely...?
After a quick Guinness and the aforementioned giggles, we moved onto a local nightclub. I say "we", but I wasn't included. The bouncer didn't let in me because I didn't have the correct I.D on me (they wanted either a driver's license or a passport - which is difficult for me, seen as though I don't have a passport or driver's license) So, I had a choice; accept defeat, or go down fighting - and I thought, to hell with it...!
...And I confronted the bouncers!
I asked them what was wrong with the I.D I'd supplied, but they refused to answer me. At which point I - calmly - asked to see "the manager". Hearing this, one uber-prick, nothing more than a glorified bouncer in a suit comes on over and claims to be "the manager". I ask for his name; he gives it - Martin Humphries, and I smile, knowing that "Martin Humphries" is not the manager of the nightclub. Just an uber-prick. Like I said.
There's only three professions where you're 'allowed' to chew chewing gum. One of them is a pimp - and seen as though this guy had no females flocking around him, it's safe to say he's not a pimp. Then you have football managers, who chew endlessly as stress relief. This wasn't a football club, and he certainly wasn't watch me kick balls. Which leaves just the third option; bouncer. And not a very good one at that. A shitty liar too, because no self respecting manager, in their right mind, would ever chew in front of potential customers.
So, anyhoo... me and "Martin" are engaged in a nice little chat. I let him know that it's discrimination not to let somebody in if they have correct I.D (just not the correct I.D) He lets me know that I'm wrong. I let him know that he's wrong. He wants to know why I want his name, and I say freedom of speech. He doesn't like that I'm staying so calm; never even raising my voice.
Truth of the matter is this; he couldn't touch me, as long as I stayed calm and didn't get aggressive towards him, and he knew that. And that wound him up more than anything I actually said; because, for once, somebody was going about winding him up in exactly the right way. And I'm proud I did. I'm proud I stuck my ground and didn't let the big bad bully win. I didn't get inside night club, but I don't care.
Worse thing is, because of me one of my friends wasn't allowed in either. He hadn't even done anything wrong, but the fact that he'd been seen with me left the bouncers (gleefully) decide he wasn't allowed in. So then I decided to lay in even deeper, and really wound "Martin" up. He told me that if I had anything to say I should say it to his face, so I did just that. I repeated all those insults. Right to his face.
They started getting a little jittery about this 'kid' using the glorious english language to bring them down a peg or two, and demonstrate just how stupid they really are. One of them didn't know how to react to me, and asked what I study at uni. I said journalism, and told him I'm a journalist - and for one split second he had fear in his eye, because I'm pretty sure that he understood the damage I could do to him if I wanted!
Me and my friend, having been refused admitance and having argued for a good ten or fifteen minutes, went away and gained access to another club, and sat there for a couple of hours talking. The bouncer incident hadn't ruined our night (like I'm sure "Martin" would have wanted) but it made it all the more better! I got to make jokes about an uber-prick, and get a little intoxicated at the same time!!
"Martin" may have won the war (ultimately we weren't allowed in) but I think that I went down a fighting. I embarrassed him infront of his collegues. I probably outsmarted him. I reduced him to calling me a "freak" (clearly he was having a bad name calling night - poor him). It's not many times you get to have a war of words with a big (ha!), bulky (ha!!) and brass (HA!!!) bouncer of Bury town centre. But I did. And it makes me smile.
I'm hard as nails, me. Clearly...