I realize I’m going to screw up my flow by doing two days at once; one of those days isn’t even finished yet. I’m sorry but I couldn’t write day 13 and make you wait for today because day 13 was just too depressing.
Day 13 started out fairly hopeful. It was the day I was to go get security certified. I ride up a sketchy elevator, walk through a dilapidated hallway, walk through a squeaky door and am greeted by a man who has a half Brooklyn, half southern accent and seemed to speak without any discernable timing what so ever.
All his sentences just revved up like an engine and than his final point (which may very well have nothing to do with the topic he started on) will end in a slow shuffle. Ifyouwhereforcedtoreadthisman’sspeachpatternitwouldsortof look…like…thiiiis. So needless to say (but I will anyway) he wasn’t the best of teachers. Luckily most of security work is common sense which I have plenty of so I aced the test. I spent 80 dollars because apparently I was mislead…you can take the class for 25 but it doesn’t do you any good unless you also purchase the license, that isn’t issued with the 25 dollar class. I also have to pay a 35 dollar processing fee. I also had to have my mom overnight me my birth certificate so I can get a NY state ID for some reason, it’s all very complicated but I did leave the class with a completion certificate.
Not moments after I got done with that class I marched over to Dave’s Tavern and asked to speak to Dave. Apparently the guy I saw on Friday was not Dave, Dave hangs out in the basement taking care of the bills. He was classic Hell’s Kitchen mixed with your sweet old Grandpa. “So what makes you think you can be a bouncer…ya big enough.” He says to me. I throw on my Hoskins charm, I smile and say “Yes sir, sure am and I also bounced for a year at a small town bar.” “Oh yeah where ya from?” “Illinois, bout 2 hours from Chicago.” I than described my duties there and made small talk being as nice and genuine as I could. Dave warmed up to me and looked up at Charlie (the man I originally mistook for Dave) and said “Hey Charlie I like this kid, maybe we can use him tonight show him the ropes.” This is of course under the condition that sooner rather than later I get all my certification sent to the state so I’m all legal and what not.
I left with a swell of pride and excitement, with a healthy dose of fear because I didn’t really do that much at Buchannan street pub. I still however was confused at all I had to do to get my certification legitimized, I was also discouraged and not finding another job that could probably pay more. Dave didn’t call that night and I went to sleep in a cold sweat of panic I woke up much the same way.
There was no speaking of my troubles today, if I verbalized them I would give them power and if they had any more power I would be crushed. Instead I got a list of 7 temp agencies, I figured with the modes of transport open to me that would take me most the day. The first temp agency didn’t exist anymore. The second temp agency was impressed with my experience and manner (one of articulate charisma and confidence not to blow my own horn but in an interview I’m pretty bad ass) and offered me a position. They told me to come in at 2pm tomorrow.
Shortly after I left there however Dave called back. “Can you be at the bar around 4 that’s when I wanna start you.” “Sure Dave not a problem.” Well this is a good thing and a bad thing…This is a nice guy if the temp agency is a better gig I’m going to have to piss this guy off…but hey he is offering me money in hand.
I go to Dave’s Tavern at 4 and Dave hands me a tiny flashlight and explains how important it is for me to check ID’s and offers little nuggets of bouncing wisdom here and there. When I finally settle I realize that Dave’s Tavern is seriously just like Buchannan Street Pub. They have the same kind of regulars, a little better music but it really is just a small town bar in a small neighborhood in a big city, which made me much less nervous. I did however get to see a fight outside the bar that wasn’t broken up by the cops which is something that doesn’t happen a lot in Belvidere…but hey it was outside my bar so it wasn’t really my problem. Also both the guys involved I could have easily subdued so once again my fears of the neighborhood peaked and then faded quickly. Also the other guy had it coming…he was kind of an ass so there is that.
Dave than walked me around the corner to his other bar “Port 41.” He wanted me to alternate doors every 20 minutes. Port 41 is interesting if for no other reason than it says it’s a bikini bar and it is literally a bar with bartenders who happen to be in bikinis. In Rockford bikini bar means “lame strip club” but apparently in New York sometimes what you see is exactly what you get.
I realized something after working at these places for five hours. People, no matter where you go, no matter the time, the age or the class, are just people, and people generally are the same wherever you go. Dave’s has the same drunk who is on his third beer at 4 o clock in the afternoon, the old man who practically lives there, the bar fly who is probably doing coke in the bathroom, the sweet girl who used to work there and now likes to visit now and again, the annoying drunk guy who thinks he is your best friend. Really a big city is just a bunch of small towns stacked next to each other separated only by a block or two.
Dave also offered me a cheap apartment in Jersey so it sounds like by the end of this week or next I will be on my own officially. I ended yesterday a mess, ready to scream out of panic and worry, letting my mind come up with the worst possible scenarios and I am ending the day with a pretty good handle on how I’m going to survive this.
New York you came through again.
KH-
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