My weekends as a Doorman

My weekends start on Friday at 15h30 when I take a minibus from Pietermaritzburg to Nottingham Road. Nottingham Road (Notties), is about 60km up the N3 road to Johannesburg. It takes two connecting taxis to get there; one from Pietermaritzburg to Howick and one from Howick to Notties. The whole journey usually takes two hours.

My shift starts at 21h00. It ends at around 02h00. The first thing I do is to walk around and check for order in the bar. I check if all the cameras are properly connected and working. I greet the barman and ask questions about what has been happening in my absence. When I am finished I go stand at the door to wait for guests to arrive.

People have many opinions about Doormen. As you stand at the door some greet you and some ignore you. Their opinions are based on articles they read in newspapers, (doorman assaulting people, attending Court cases about grievous body harm and those who resort to talking non-violence). The guests are not sure which category you belong to and are not willing to take a chance with you.

While standing at the door people of all ages arrive. You have to use your judgement if someone is under the age of 18 years. It is interesting that some look under age. But often to my surprise they have their Identity document (ID) with them. When you ask may I see your ID, they hand it to you with a smile. They are old enough and have no time to waste arguing with the Doorman so they carry their IDs.

The irritating ones are those teenagers that are tall and young. They feel their height will earn them entrance even though they are under age.

When I ask them, ‘May I see your ID please?’

They answer, ‘I am 18years old and left my ID at home.’

I tell them go get it and they reply, ‘I come from Durban, I come from Johannesburg, I come from Bloemfontein, etc.’

I then politely say, ‘Please go home because you cannot prove your age.’

Their friends say, ‘Look we’re all old he/she is our age, look at our IDs.’ When you are strict it makes you unpopular with those under age. The most rewarding thing is keeping your conscience pure.

At the end of the night the elderly always come and say, ‘Thank you at least there is someone who sticks to the bar rules, keep it up.’

Although some parents get angry, because they want to sit with their underage children while they drink. I always keep the rules, no double standards. Some leave angry, but who cares? Rules are there to be observed.

Inside the bar the dance floor starts off with one person. There’s always someone arriving in the mood to dance. And after two hours or more, the dance floor is flooded with dancers. The most amazing thing is people dance with no rhythm at all, very queer dance moves and some come to show off they are the masters at dancing. I would love some to go for dancing lessons before they attempt dancing in public.

When people are drunk you see people reacting differently to alcohol, (some become confident enough to charm the girls; others feel strong and become aggressive; others become too loud and make jokes - their sense of humour improves with alcohol; some become kind and buy everyone drinks, even offer the doorman and barmen, and sadly some women start flirting with men).

That’s the cause of most bar fights; women forgetting their men and flirting with other men.

At about 23h30 most of the elderly (45years-65years) go home. Then the bar is only full of people in their late teens up to early thirties. The people are dancing to every song, enjoying them. The barman at 01h30 rings the bell for last round. Most people hate the sound of last round and rush to the bar to order drinks; usually averaging at least three drinks per person.

Finally at 02h00 the bar closes. The biggest challenge is to get people out of the bar. Most of them are drunk and they do not want to leave. It is the Doorman’s duty to make sure everyone leaves. I always put my foot down so that everyone leaves the bar. When everyone is gone the barmen cash up.

Outside some people make a noise by playing their car radios very loud. You also get those looking for bar fights. You walk with caution because those looking for bar fights might pick on you so as they may get their fight. The ladies leave and eventually all the boys leave too.

I go back to say good bye to the barmen while they finish cashing up. I lock all the doors and we part ways before my two hour journey home to sleep.

That is my weekend as a Doorman at Nottingham Road.

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