Well, the Antipope called for some hellacious experiences.  I may have 
posted this before, but it's easier to recount an episode of stupidity 
than one of heartbreak.  This one comes from a pretty strange period 
about a year and a half ago, just around Valentine's day, 1995.  It was a 
Saturday night at the Huddle Club, and business was slow, mostly because 
of the weather.  I didn't have a basketball game to referee that night, 
so I showed up about 8:00.  No doorman.  "Hunh?  Where's Ron?" I asked, 
as I came in and shook off the snow.  "Don't know," answered Wayne, the 
manager.  "He ought to get in by 9."  Well, nine comes and goes, and Ron 
hasn't shown.  I'm sitting at the corner of the bar, so Wayne asks, "Can 
you watch the door tonight?"  Now the Huddle is notorious for lack of 
bouncers, but to ask me, rather than some young testosterone laden type, 
seemed to be somewhat foolhardy.  My friend Danny comes in with Allison, 
so that she can sell some of her outfits.  She's giving up dancing, 
mostly to hang with Danny (and the wedding was this last weekend).  They 
give me some pepper spray-- "Just in case" and take off.  Really just a 
boring evening, spent most of it talking with SUNDOWN and JULIE.  
Finally, it's near closing time, last call has been made, and lights are 
turned up.  Suddenly, JULIE yells, "They're fighting."  Sure enough--two 
guys are after each other, presumably over a dancer.  JULIE grabs a 
trashcan and empties it on them, then dives in.  What to do?  Well, 
protect the dancers first.  I grab JULIE and drag her off the pile, and 
look in.  One guy has a broken beer bottle held to the other's neck, and 
there's a lot of blood.  I put an arm bar on the guy holding the bottle, 
but it didn't seem like I was doing much good.  A third body comes flying 
in, and then back out when he sees all the blood.  This is some friend of 
the boy whose neck is starting to resemble Italian sausage.  "KA-BLAM!"  
Whaaat?  That was a .38 being fired.  I duck, but realize it is Wayne, 
the manager, standing in the middle of the club.  He just put a round 
into the ceiling.  The two fighters unlock, one to medical attention from 
SUNDOWN, the other I hustle out the door (although if he hadn't wanted to 
go, I don't think I could have done squat to force him as he was an 
ex-Ranger, still in the Reserve).  When outside, he goes to his pickup, 
and grabs a shotgun from the gunrack.  Everybody in the club scatters.  I 
crawl behind the bar, expecting to hear a blast through the door at any 
time.  None comes and soon there are sirens outside, and the EMTs arrive. 
 One approaches me.  "No, I'm OK, man."  "You don't look it.  You're 
covered with blood."  Guess I was.  It cost me one of my favorite shirts, 
a great pair of faded levis, and left stains in my python boots that 
still haven't come all the way out.  Oh, yeah, I got paid for my work 
that night.  Forty dollars, and a free pass.  I look in my pocket, and 
there's the pepper spray.  I never even thought about using it--and it 
was the perfect tool.  Rarely have I felt so, so, inadequate, I guess was 
the feeling.

 So, where are they now?  Well, Ron got fired as doorman (duh!).  He's 
now dating BRANDI, the dancer who lived on my couch for a week.  JULIE 
got fed up with driving up from DC for peanuts, and quit soon after this 
episode.  SUNDOWN, well, she is still the most level-headed dancer I 
know.  The ex-Ranger got 30 days for assault.  I have no idea what 
happened to the other guy or the dancer this all started over.  Me, well, 
I went on to become the famous DrD of ASSC fame.  The Huddle Club got 
remodeled, and the dancers there now can sometimes make in a night what 
they made in a week back then.  Is there a moral to this story?  Maybe.  
It all depends on your point of view.  Maybe next time we'll talk about 
love in this strange world of sex/tease, but if we do, don't expect great 
coherency.

DrD 
I've got respect for bouncers, but I sure as hell don't want to be one.