The Late Night Industry (and subsequent discussion on “-isms”)

The other day I went to a friend’s leaving party in “a seductive late night bar” in Leeds. To pick at that description I can say: Seductive – maybe, Late night – 2am..? (though I fucked off long before…), Bar – well yes, can’t argue (Maybe I’m trying to be vitriolic for the pure sake here, tell me if my sarcasm’s shite), but aside from picking: Door staff… OK I guess before I start it’s a pointless one but… I walk up to the Street entrance and am accosted by a a member of the establishment’s staff who looks at me as if I was something he found on the sole of his shoe (particularly nasty on a hot day) and says (nearest translation): “werrd’fkd’yerwan”.

I’ll add here I DO NOT dress up to get in anywhere. Even for Lab4 or MarkEG of any one of a number of musicians I like who occasionally play places with dress codes. This time I did. Kind of – I wore clean trainers, plain combats and a top that apparently I look “gay” in. I was smart. OK.

So I explain that it is my friend’s leaving party, and get a non-verbal response that seems to indicate I’m to speak to the ape on the main door. I’m let in after an interrogation that Herr Himler himself would be proud of but that is not the point…

I guess the glass collector I encountered first (who is probably on about £1.50ph and desperately trying to moonlight enough to live on aside from the pittance that someone seeking asylum gets here) was a programmed robot. I guess the boss bouncer had a tick list of attributes (that cig burn on my trainer..?) to refuse entry to the bearers of…. No fuck it. What is wrong with the “late night industry”?

I spent about £30 in there. OK I know that that’s not a lot for somewhere that charges £95 for a bottle of spirits and £3 a pint (that’s only fucking export for fuck’s sake) but it’s 7.317073 (recurring) hours of barmaid at minimum wage. Times 100 if each person drank like me… I’m off on one here and I know there’s’ far more costs than that, but I spent my money on short pint’s so why should I be treated like shite..? And £30 is a weeks spending cash for me, but that’s sour grapes.

I guess where I’m going is not my annoyance, though that has lent vitriol to my discussion, but the money in bars.

My Ex used to work in a city bar. The manager took £75Kpa. And his profit related bonus of another £50k. The staff were on minimum. His Deputy (who did all the late nights, 7 days….) only £20K. The effeminate little Mauritian poof* still nicked any tips left on a card. That venue described itself as a “upmarket venture”. It still smelt of puke though when you et your lunch there on Saturday morning. The “dance floor” on a Saturday night was still full of overweight and oversexed middle-managers sticking their fingers into the cunts of underweight overCosmoed slappers when they thought no-one was looking. Classy eh?

I guess I’m preaching to the converted anyway, so I’ll shut Up. But fuck… I try and convince myself of the merits of humanity..?

* BTW if anyone regards this comments a Racist, Homophobic, or even Size-ist: Think: Did I extend any malice to this gentleman for the fact that he is a)small, b)from Mauritius, or c)gay? No… It’s an accurate description which relates in no way to my further debasement of his other qualities. Have a look at my last entry and decide if my description of older people is less offensive…? But hey, it’s socially acceptable to take the piss out of people who’ve lived a bit longer.

PS: if the Octogenarian Gay Mafia come for me “It wasn’t me mate, I woz ‘acked.”