When I was 19, I had just earned my first black belt in a traditional martial art. I had been a football player in highschool, and I worked out quite a lot. To say the least, I was fairly physically fit. I even played volleyball for the Texas A&M club team. So, when I needed a summer job, I applied to be a bouncer at our local country and western club, Cactus Canyon.
During the course of the nights, I rarely had to use any of my strength or skills. Standing at 6'3" I was already a fairly imposing person, and with my muscular build, it was even more so. The only problem with that is, drunk people rarely have the best critical decision making capacity. As such, I would occasionally have to utilize my strength, martial skills, or a combination thereof to, how does Dalton phrase it in Roadhouse, ask them to leave, politely. This was usually easily accomplished, because backup in the club was never too far away. We generally had anywhere from 3-10 bouncers working at a time, depending on the expected capacity for the night. Friday and Saturday nights were of course the busiest.
Charlie's Daniels' band played Cactus Canyon one night, and to say the house was packed would be the understatement of understatements. Our fire martial capacity rating was 1,500 people, and we took in 3,000 tickets that night (We paid the fine to the fire martial, which was way less that the ticket take alone). I was up on stage providing security for the band, stage right in fact. Unfortunately, I didn't get to meet Daniels at any point during the night.
As the concert was going, some girl right up front was giving me the "fuck me eyes" the whole time I was up there. That is, she did until a fight broke out somewhere in the club. The DJ (yes someone was still in the DJ booth, because they controlled the clubs sound system from there, as well as having a bird's eye view of the club for added security) paged out the announcement, security needed by the bull (the mechanical bull). Well, when that page goes out, we all make our way there. I may have mentioned that the club was over capacity, and making my way through the crowd wasn't easy. Fuck me eyes ended up right in my way and I unceremoniously moved her out of my way (as I did many other patrons). Unfortunately for me, she refused to look at me for for the rest of the night. Le sigh.
Shortly after that, I just happened to be in the club enjoying a night off. I was chatting with the assistant manager, who also had the night off, and he was enjoying a beer. When he looked away, I snuck a sip of his beer. Well, apparently one of the other bouncers had been "keeping an eye on me" and caught what I did. Both the assistant manager and I were brought into the manager's office to have a little chat. Well, the sip I took was small, and I mean extremely small. The bottle I sipped from was brought in for evidence, but you couldn't even tell it had been sipped from. I tried to play the "it wasn't me," and "I was going to but thought better about it" angle, but it didn't help. I was fired, and banned from the club.
A few years later, I was back at home, after having received a medical discharge from the Army after breaking my back. Cactus Canyon was gone. In its place was a different country and western club called Denim and Diamonds. Here I was in need of a job, and here they were advertising for help wanted. I thought to myself, what the heck. I went in and applied for a job. I was hired on the spot to be a bouncer, and my primary job was going to be doorman. Basically, I just checked everyone's ID's as they entered the club, and ensured they had no weapons on them. It wasn't a glamorous job, but it was a job. More than that, the firing was effectively expunged from my record as they had rehired me. (The parent company was still the same. Turns out the name change was just a rebranding effort.)
I got to know most of the staff fairly well. Oh, I forgot to mention I was married, and I had kids at the time. To say it was a happy marriage would be telling a lie. It wasn't unhappy either. I guess you could say it was a "stressed" marriage. We had participated in some swingers events, and a few other like things (threesomes etc). So, finding outside entertainment wasn't necessarily cheating for us, as it was something we had agreed was okay. Giving how the marriage eventually ended, this probably wasn't the most conducive arrangement to a happily ever after.
Now, I'm a shameless flirt. I will flirt with anyone. The vast majority of the time, 99.9% or greater, it is absolutely meaningless. Especially so if the person is male since I'm not attracted to males. One of the bartenders, Ray, literally thought I was gay though. When he met my wife, he said, "Wait?! Your not gay? But you're so good at it!". It came as a complete shock to him that I was into women. Who it didn't come as a complete shock to, was Sarah.
Sarah was one of the beer girls at the club. So, she didn't tend bar, but she manned a beer tub, selling the long necks (and occasional cans) all night long. She usually did this in some sort of provocative, skimpy outfit that showed off all of delicious assets. She had shoulder length blonde hair with an undercut to it. Her eyes were mesmerizing blue as deep as the ocean. She wasn't tall at only about 5'6" but she was athletically built. The ass she displayed in her skin tight outfits was firm, toned, and though it may be cliche, heart shaped. I would say her cleavage was formed by a perky set of C-cup breasts. There wasn't an ounce of fat on her body that was out of place or not supposed to be to. You say she was absolutely gorgeous would be an understatement. You seem to use that understatement a lot, but it's true in this case as well.
As I mentioned, I am a shameless flirt. Sarah is no exception to my flirting, and she seemed to be really receptive of it. After Ray found out that I wasn't gay he advised me that Sarah was really into me. I for one couldn't understand why. Here I was a married man home from the Army after a broken back. My body was starting to go to seed as it were. I was no longer the lean muscular figure I cut in high school let alone my svelte 225 pounds after leaving the Army. Yet, somehow this beautiful woman seemed to be interested in me.
So, I laid into the flirting pretty heavily with Sarah, just to see how far things might go. I would even come up to the club on my nights off, especially if the wife and I were fighting, to blow off steam and hang out with Sarah.
One night she we are both working, but since it was a Wednesday night, the club was fairly dead. They didn't need a door man, as the cashier could handle checking ID's herself. So, as I'm walking around the dance floor (literally around it, there was railing around the dance floor that was in the center of the club) I came up to Sarah's beer tub. She was the only beer girl working, and there was one bartender on that night (not Ray). Her tub was near one of the very large bass speakers next to the dance floor. Sarah asked me to help her up onto the speaker so she could dance. It was one of those things she did to help "advertise" her beer tub when it was a slow night. In my opinion, this was great advertisement.
