I go to bars, always have done so, although less recently. What’s wrong with bars? I even worked at Studio 54 as a youth. Didn’t change me as a person, a conservative or a fallin’ away Repub. It taught me a lot about human nature and the life style of gay males. A lot of puritans get their information from people like me.
I don’t really want to get into an explanatory answer to that right now, but will say that I was a bouncer in four clubs over several years during my twenties. I worked out in a suburb of a city and rough, urban area of the same city for several years of self-defense and a related sport before that...
...then moved to the Ozarks.
The first of those clubs, under one business name then another, was notorious in the Ozarks. I worked there for a few months and quit over a disagreement with the owner about a security concern.
Otherwise, I did as well there as anyone could have and had to have been blessed by G-d and some local friends there. No one is all-seeing or indestructible: an insight lost on some young men (like myself back then).
If some of the peculiarities and script lines were taken from a real nightclub, they probably weren’t from Jasper, MO. They were more likely from a club about 60 miles further to the east—a club with real hillbilly customers, others who passed through, and a rather haunting past.
“I thought you’d be bigger.” —said with more of twang by more than one young woman customer during the early 1980s.
I was somewhat tall, really, but most light-heavyweights tend to look lean and broad shouldered when not warmed up under bright lights (e.g., in street clothes). Some of the real hillbillies in those days, however, expected bouncers to look more like some of the bigger old fashioned professional wrestlers (big—sideways big, hugely wide). To them, such largeness was regarded as a sign of good health and great strength—all that was needed in a fight. Leanness was regarded as being “poor,” weak and the shape of a city slicker.
The big bouncer was named Mike. He had enough static strength to lift and carry an average sized man out the door. I escorted some of the more difficult ones out—hundreds of them over several months—and protected Mike in some instances. He was big, brave, kindhearted and had great static strength, but he wasn’t a fighter.
After I left, Mike was reportedly roughed up and dragged around by his hair by several members of a local family. His wife talked to me and asked me to make up with the owner and go back to work there. I declined. The bouncer who took my place was shot over the new pool table, as had been done to several men in a mass murder in the same place under a different business name and ownership before I worked there.
So, there it is. As a few of us aging men say, I was not wise at making important choices back then. After the excitement wore off, there were only scenes of sadness in the lives of many of the customers of the night clubs.
Pride doesn’t seem very important any more, except that it should be avoided. I’m older now. Peace and quiet are nice. ;-)