When Instinct Kicks In

Heh. I love it when someone from my deep past finally finds me here on fb. Jimmy was a solid dude who worked more than a few security gigs with me and for me way back when. It always amazes the hell out of me to hear that someone remembers things I said to them DECADES ago. Things like “if you’re not leading by example, you’re not leading at all.”

He also reminded me of an incident that helps illustrate just how long I’ve been been a bouncer:

I was running security for a weekend long Battle of the Bands contest. It was a pretty big deal; it might’ve just been a bunch of amateur garage bands from around the state, but this was happening in the city’s top event venue, the same auditorium that booked the big boys, bands like Journey and Van Halen. I’m a hands on Head of Security; no matter what the event is I spend all of it circling through every security point, checking that my guys are ok and have everything they need. While doing that, I see one of my guys arguing with someone in the pat down area just inside the door (I don’t want to shock anyone, but kids attending rock concerts back then would often try to sneak marijuana past us). This was Paul’s first security gig, so I hung out there, just far back and behind him enough that he wouldn’t know I was watching.

The other guy’s anger was escalating, and I could tell he was getting nasty. I was really proud of Paul for not getting nasty right along with him; jumping at idiot bait is the hardest thing to train out of new bouncers, and Paulie was getting it right on the first try. When the job is done properly it goes like this: security guy maintains his composure, idiot realizes he’s getting absolutely nothing out of being an idiot but burns off some more misdirected anger anyway, then either complies or leaves. 98% of the time, that’s the drill. It’s the other 2% that makes the job interesting.

This guy is getting way out of proportion angry, enough that I’m about to go over and help him find his manners. Then I see his right hand flash to his right hip. Ain’t but one reason for THAT dance move; this gutter mutt is actually going to pull a gun on one of my boys. That’s really high up on my list of things you don’t want to be doing. And this isn’t a first timer’s problem anymore.

I went flying across the lane and hit him hard – arms around him, shoulder in his chest – and drove him down. Disarming him while he was stunned, I reached down and snatched up his weapon. Which turned out to be a pager. Yeah. Pager use was just beginning to spread at the time, legitimizing that fast hand to hip motion. But I’d not yet seen them often enough to commit that to muscle memory; it still looked like WEAPON!! to me. Leading me to inflict a brutal tackle on a young doctor for no reason at all. Earning my everlasting respect, he understood my explanation and accepted my apology.

 BOY that was a long time ago. So how long have I been a bouncer? 5 years longer than that.

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This first appeared in The Havok Journal on April 10, 2024.

Bama has been a rodeo cowboy, a professional stuntman, and, for 39 years and counting, a bouncer at various biker bars and redneck rat cage juke joints through the Deep South. He makes cool stuff as Crimson Tied Paragear, using knots his Army Ranger Scoutmaster taught him at Boy Scout summer camp deep in the Okinawan boonies back in 1972.

As the Voice of the Veteran Community, The Havok Journal seeks to publish a variety of perspectives on a number of sensitive subjects. Unless specifically noted otherwise, nothing we publish is an official point of view of The Havok Journal or any part of the U.S. government.