So, after my run-in/experience with “Farouk” (see latest C.R.A.P. entry), I started remembering how totally Smurf-ish bouncers can be. I mean, I totally understand the need to enforce the rules and all that, but man it’s like “Why so serious?”. I just don’t get it. They are humorless, humorless
pieces of crap. So I got to wondering: how do they get to be like that? Are they the result of say, radioactive dick-bites, sorta like Peter Parker and the spider? Or are they mysterious “just are” Smurf-holes like the guy in “No Country for Old Men”?
So using a special Invisi-Cream (it’s from the same people who make Invisalign, Invisible Ink and currently working on making The Osbournes and Tyra disappear) I covered myself in the goo and followed Farouk home to observe what a bouncer’s day is like before they report to shift the next night.
In the American bar system, there are a two types of people: the ones trying to get into the bar and the Smurf-heads that try to prevent them. Here is there story (CHA-CHUNG!).
A Day in the Life of Farouk the Bartender
- Ends shift at 2:45am. After successfully groping 30 women that night (10 for ‘security checks’ and 20 for ‘are you smuggling drinks into this bar, ma’am?”), attempts to ask 14 of them out. 6 are with boyfriends/husbands. 7 are lesbians. 1 is a coat-hanger.
- 2:55am: On way home, stops to kick a puppy. Pees on homeless person’s outstretched
hands, snarling “….and keep the change, obama”.
- 3:15am: gets home to shabby apartment. Finishes leftover quesadilla’s from previous night’s shift. Does weird tuck-dance a la Silence of the Lambs in mirror. Chants, “Oh Farouk, you are so hot, do me, do me, do me”. Plays Kylie Minogue.
- 3:33am: Takes dump in middle of apartment. Attempts to finish reading ‘Green Eggs and Ham’. Gets tired. Proceeds to sleep hanging upside-down from ceiling.
- 3:40-4:00am: cries self to sleep, cursing the world in Gollum-like voice.
- 11:58am: wakes. Goes to bathroom to measure penis with ruler. Still small. Snaps ruler in half, measures again. Still small. Further breaks toilet.
- 12:05pm: pees in own sink (now I know who does that at New Deck).
- 12:12pm: heads to gym where he works out for awhile. On the wall in front of him: motivational pictures of Barry Bonds, Dane Cook, Dick Cheney and Darth Vader.
- 2:45pm: in a soft moment, tries calling mother. # is disconnected. Tries another number. Hears the word ‘sissy’ 5 times before hanging up. That was his nana.
- 2:50pm: accepts 25 ‘friend requests’ on Facebook from people that fear him and want free cover to the bar
- 3:00pm: hate-jerks to Joan Rivers’ “Bathrobe Collection” on QVC.
- 3:02pm: decides to take a ‘power nap’ to clear his mind and prepare for a night of evil. I know this since he says it aloud.
- 5:30pm: gets up, washes face, applies 3rd coating of steroid cream to face, neck, taint. Power-poses in mirror, then punches it.
- 6:15pm: Leaves place, goes to neighboring bars to heckle people, pee in sinks
- 8:00pm: reports to work at New Deck, raged on the outside, hurt, vulnerable on the inside
- 9:00pm: starts checking ID’s at the door. Depressed, at one point while checking patron’s ID asks, “do you love me, sir?” (pardon?). “sir, i said ‘do you love me’? are you proud of me, sir?” (uh, yeah dude). (flips ID over, still scanning it, not meeting eyes with patron) “say it, sir. say you love me and that you’re proud of me, sir”. (patron says it). “have a good night sir. $5 cover.”
And from then til closing, the magic happens all over again. The gropes, the ID checks, the new Facebook “friends” that will be made, the Fergie and 50 cent songs he’ll bob his head to…..it’ll all
happen all over again like so much Groundhog’s Day.
Ah, Farouk, Farouk, Farouk is on fire. He don’t need no water let the Mother-Smurfer burn.