The door

Working the door at Arnie's is a weird experience. All I do is ask people for three dollars and their ID and after a couple drinks they think I'm their buddy. I kept having to point out to people that I couldn't understand a single word they were saying because I was wearing earplugs. Then I had to explain to them that the earplugs weren't because I didn't like the music, but because I had to stand right in front of the damned amplifier all night.

The single weirdest thing I encountered was a group of three people, two guys and a girl. All of their ID's were labeled "not a license to drive", and I didn't see them get out of a taxi anywhere. One of the guys looked to be around forty, dressed in jeans and a button-down shirt, untucked. The other buy looked around mid-thirties, long hair, scruffy beard, kinda looked like he used the Big Lebowski as a guide to living. The woman was the real prize...probably late twenties, skinny as hell, already drunk and wearing a mini-skirt just short enough for people to wonder if she even bothered wearing underwear or if it was just a thong. Anyway, she spent the first part of the night with the Dude, getting irate with the bartender because they didn't have "tall" shot glasses so she could give the Dude a whisky shot out of her cleavage (which, given that she was barely an A cup, would've been fun to watch just for the sheer logistics of it).

Then the band switched to slower songs, which insprired this woman to want to dance with the older guy. The dance started out rather innocent, but later became a grope and grind. It was kinda like a train wreck...you didn't want to watch, but you couldn't help it. It was nasty and skanky and yet, oddly hyptnotic. when she did a little slide down his leg, I noticed a couple guys off to the side angling their necks trying to get a ruling on the aforementioned underwear issue. They didn't stop dancing until the band stopped playing. At which time, it was my time to go home, where I went right to sleep.

I woke up this morning with a sense of dread. You see, I had a dream that I got fired from my job. No matter how well I do at work, that's always a risk. Given what happened on Friday, I wouldn't be surprised if it did actually happen. So, since waking up this morning, I've been working on survival plans. Hoping for the best, but planning for the worst.

I'm taking a little solace in the idea that I would be alright. It wouldn't be the end of the world. I've survived worse and come through with only a few scratches.

Not much else to say about that, you know? I wouldn't say it was the power of positive thinking as much as the benefits of not thinking so pessimistically.