Tag Archives: club

Bouncer

Bouncer: (n) a person employed by a nightclub or similar establishment to prevent troublemakers from entering

Big Mike.Dictionary B

That really was his name.

I know it sounds kind of silly, but if you’re going to be a bouncer in a club, your tag should have a certain amount of intimidation. In other words, if the owner was dealing with a problem, asking “Lawrence” to come and help would not be nearly as frightening.

I got to know Big Mike a little bit. He was a nice guy. I suppose he might even fall into the category of “sensitive.”

But whenever the proprietor of the institution called his name, Mike suddenly turned into an attack dog. It was almost like watching the transformation of the Incredible Hulk (except he never tore his shirt.) His face became stern, furrowing his eyebrows. He lost all the joy in his eyes as he rapped his knuckles on the table and stomped off to deal with some ne’er-do-well.

At first I found it funny. Then I realized Mike was playing a dangerous game.

Because the truth is, a prize fighter can’t go into a bar without all the drunken patrons thinking they can take him on. And Big Mike was going to eventually run across someone who felt it was his duty to clean his clock–leaving him unable to tell time.

It gave me pause.

How often am I tempted to muster a nasty disposition to warn people of my superiority and prowess, setting myself up to be brought down by the thunder of a greater storm?

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Arrogate

Arrogate: (v) to take or claim (something) without justification.dictionary with letter A

  • I don’t join a club because I don’t like to club people.
  • I’ve never added my membership to a party because I hate to get drunk on my own opinion.
  • And I’m not an adherent to any specific religion because I’m obnoxious when I’m religious.

For you see, it’s like I started off my life with a huge suitcase full of beliefs, ideas, prejudices, quirks and preferences. I kissed my family goodbye and showed up at the railway station to go off to the College of Humanity with this burdensome baggage, proudly hauling it along to demonstrate my faithfulness to the causes enclosed.

After a few miles, I grew weary of the task, so I opened it up and discovered there were many things that were either too small for me, useless to my present condition, or somewhat unidentifiable.

Seeing a trash can nearby, I availed myself of its open-mindedness and dumped this unnecessary carry-on.

I walked a little further, got a little older, and my muscles began to complain about their mission of toting. So I opened it one more time, and lo and behold, things that once seemed sacred were now outdated and meaningless.

A new dumping.

So I tread on into my middle years, still faithful to display the luggage originally provided. Then one day I decided to open up the container and I discovered that everything that had been packed in there for me was gone, and all that remained was an empty valise.

I took a risk.

I cast it aside.

This accomplished, I realized there were only three things I held dear:

  1. I am responsible for my own life so I should stop being a jerk.
  2. People are not going to treat me any better than I treat them.
  3. Having more than I need makes me worry instead of prosper.

Today I try very hard to keep from accumulating trinkets which are thrust upon me by those who feel uncomfortable with me being unencumbered.

I am polite … but I scurry away from their insistence.

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Amex

dictionary with letter A

Amex: (abbr) American Express

I was sitting here wondering if it’s possible to use “obnoxious” and “friend” in the same sentence without contradicting etiquette.

I finally decided that I’ve had many friends who have gone through bouts of “obnoxity” and would probably contend that they have patiently waited for me to recover from a similar affliction.

One of my friends (who will remain nameless) was particularly susceptible to this viral, emotional condition. But basically, it only happened whenever he was discussing money.

At the age of twenty-six, he walked around with his chest puffed like a marshmallow, bragging about how he had just gotten an American Express card. He explained to me in vivid detail that it was a symbol of solvency. proof that credit was well-established and that the holder of such a piece of plastic was deemed “salt of the earth.”

He also explained in lengthy sentences that because I did not have this endorsement from Amex, that I was devoid of adult worthiness.

It was absolutely horrible.

But s life will often do in its pursuit of ultimately becoming a full-time stand-up comedian, within a decade and a half, the tables shifted. I, for that season, had the money–and the American Express card–and he was unemployed, trying to find a job fixing computer monitors, which had become so reasonable to buy that nobody actually repaired them.

I think he was prepared for me to leap on the opportunity to rub some of that “salt of the earth” into his wounds, and make him feel terrible, not just for his present situation, but for how he acted so many years earlier.

I didn’t.

It’s not because I’m a great guy. It’s because money comes, money goes and has a notorious reputation for flirting with the cutest person in the room.

So even though I had an American Express card for many years and paid it faithfully, when they discerned that I was no longer worthy of the club, I was ousted without explanation or any chance for objection.

So my basic situation is simple. I not only am not part of the American Express family any more, but must take the drastic and dangerous risk of actually leaving my home without it.