Let the minute detail recounting begin! Last night was fun. I went downtown around ten and immediately took some vicodin with my cocktail, then set up camp at the door with Kate and Mig for the show. The Bottom Dwellers didn't show up until like, fifteen minutes before we were going to start charging, and Ian was freaking out a little bit, but they made it fine and they sounded absolutely great. Kate loves working the door, but has a tendency to wander away every so often when I need her to be right there with the money, or to get slightly flustered when several people are coming in at once (last night she dropped a large amount of money on the floor and had to put her foot on top of it to keep it in place while she made change for about five people.) She really likes handling the money, so my job is really easy: Mig checks the ID, Kate takes the money, and I stamp the wrist. Johnny came in and gave me a break for a while (the vicodin made me more than a little woozy after a few drinks) and while it seemed ridiculous to have four people working the door, it really was necessary for the crowd we had surging through there.

Everyone was very nice except for one annoying drunk snotty bitch who told me to "convince her" why she should pay to get in (and this was after we dropped the cover from $3 to $2.) She stood in front of me, swaying slightly, and slurred, "Well, are they any good?" I said, "No, actually they really suck" with the most condescending tone I could muster. She replied, "Don't be a bitch," which made me immediately want to slap the shit out of her, but instead I retorted, "Then don't ask stupid questions. Of course they're good." I don't know if her drunkenness was emboldening or what, but she pressed on and said, "I don't need your attitude!" so I told her we didn't need her business and moved on to the next two people coming through the door. These were two regulars who are both very friendly and always pay the cover without complaint, and because I can cut deals when I want to, I only charged them a dollar each. This outraged the drunk girl, who said, "Oh, okay, well I'll pay then, so here's my dollar." At that point I was about to strangle her, so I handed Kate the stamp, told Mig the girl was uninvited to the show, and let Ian know that I made an executive decision to disallow three customers because one called me a bitch (well she did, sort of), and that was that. She shuffled out the door with her two skanky drunk friends, undoubtedly resolving to complain about me to the owner, but who the fuck cares? I don't work there. Oh, and some other girl who didn't want to fork over a whole two dollars for a show actually asked me if Justin was there. Uh yeah, let me just call the owner at home and get you a pass. Jesus, people can be cheap. My only other problem the entire night, which probably shouldn't have bothered me as much as it did, was a couple who came in and immediately started chatting with Kate, as they're friends of hers. Eventually we asked them to please move away from the door, which essentially means you can either leave or pay and find somewhere else to stand. Instead, they walked over to the bar and started chatting with Chris, then eventually just sat down and ordered beers and watched the entire show for free. I just kept looking at them and seething and wanting to approach them and make a snarky remark about how the cover applies to everyone, even people who have friends behind the bar. Kate said "Oh, they're good friends of ours and I would have let them in for free anyway." Well, that isn't her call. I know I frequently let certain "VIPs" in for free or for a reduced cover, but that really isn't an option for her yet. Anyway, other than that it went well and I'm not sure, but I think the station made a decent amount after paying the bands.

Tonight is "singer songwriter night," or, as Ian calls it, "your boyfriends." Dameon, Colin, and a guy named Deric who's now playing in the Lowlights will be taking turns playing. I may or may not be working the door, but I'm definitely picking the interlude music, and it's going to be nothing but posthumous Elliott Smith. I do believe it's gonna be a two-vicodin night, folks. It's getting late and I need to get some shit done, so that's all for today. Maybe later I'll write about Nikola's birthday extravaganza at the fair, which resulted in everybody losing lots of money at the track, Jervis losing all of his pocket change on the Zipper, me losing my temper (and a filthy juicebox lucky she didn't lose her front teeth), Jervis losing his cell phone, everyone at one point or another losing each other, and a whole hell of a lot of drinking. Good times.