in position manning the cover charge and metal
detection duties. One guy checking purses while the other passed a
magnetic wand over everyone. Danny himself was checking ID’s and
recording them in the photo scanner on the doorframe.
I turned around
and nearly bumped into Aaron as he led some friends down the stairs
from the private floors, a hotter than hot girl on each tiny arm.
Both girls would have stood taller than Aaron even if they hadn’t
been propped up on stiletto heels. The stupid music was so loud and
invasive that I didn’t hear them behind me at all.
Aaron was all
snazzed up in a brand new silver suit. One of those ones that
gleamed like polyester but was actually closer to silk. His perfect
teeth gleamed behind his fake, spray on tan as he saw me.
“Joe,” he
yelled. That music was really starting to get loud. And grating.
Stupid loud music. “Gonna be a big night!”
I nodded
tightly with my small smile and locked my teeth together to hold in
a yawn. One of us was going to have a big night with crowd control,
the other a big night with cash coming into the coffers by the
bucket load.
I knew which
guy I was.
Aaron gestured
with a cocktail loaded hand to his friends. “You know my business
partners, right?”
I didn’t know
for sure they were business partners until just then, but I nodded
again and extended my small smile to the other three off duty
police officers that spent all their free time hanging around the
club.
Officer Chris
Parise was a well groomed man whenever he came into the club. The
physical example the Winnipeg Police Department likes to set for
all their officers. Tall but not intimidating. Fit but not muscle
bound. Agile and quick footed, as I’d seen firsthand a time or two.
French-Canadian and bilingual. Well-spoken and not quick to
violence. I’d seen articles in the newspapers where he had acted as
a media spokesperson on occasion, which is a big trusted position
in the Police Force. It meant he was well-liked among the higher
ups as well.
Officer Don
Mackie stood off to his left, a bit taller and leaner. Of Metis
descent which is always a plus for Police Officers in Winnipeg
given the high aboriginal population. He had the build of an
athlete and probably still played a lot of rec hockey in his spare
time. Maybe a coach, I overheard him talking about his kids one
night. Like on many nights here his eyes seemed unfocused, maybe
even a little sad and clearly lost in his own thoughts. Or maybe
he’d just had too much to drink again. Officer Mackie seemed to get
shitfaced a lot when he was at the club.
Behind them
both and un-missable was Officer Gordon Miller. A complete beast of
a man. About as tall as me but with fifty pounds to his benefit,
not all of it fat. Some sort of a Slavic descent I figured but that
was hard to determine for sure. His close cropped hair and beard
belied the expansive landscape of rugged wilderness the rest of his
skin must’ve been covered with. Dark coarse hair practically burst
out the V-neck of his polo shirt and down his tree trunk sized arms
all the way to the knuckles. Where the other three officers in this
group were sleek and clean, Officer Miller was like an older model
Ford truck. Solid, dependable and able to haul anything
anywhere.
I was glad they
were on my side.
Officer
Parise stuck out his hand with a smile. “ Bonjour Joe , comment ca
va ?”
My French
sucks le bag but every
Canadian knows the first question you’re ever taught in elementary
school. “ Ca va bien , Officer
Parise,” I replied loudly while shaking his hand. “Will you
gentlemen be staying til’ close tonight?”
Parise looked
back at his friends with a laugh. “Absolutely. We are here until
the sun comes up.”
Miller let out
an elemental war whoop towards the sky, two beer bottles in each of
his hands. Apparently was attempting a rare quadruple-fister. “We
are gonna get fucking
detection duties. One guy checking purses while the other passed a
magnetic wand over everyone. Danny himself was checking ID’s and
recording them in the photo scanner on the doorframe.
I turned around
and nearly bumped into Aaron as he led some friends down the stairs
from the private floors, a hotter than hot girl on each tiny arm.
Both girls would have stood taller than Aaron even if they hadn’t
been propped up on stiletto heels. The stupid music was so loud and
invasive that I didn’t hear them behind me at all.
Aaron was all
snazzed up in a brand new silver suit. One of those ones that
gleamed like polyester but was actually closer to silk. His perfect
teeth gleamed behind his fake, spray on tan as he saw me.
“Joe,” he
yelled. That music was really starting to get loud. And grating.
Stupid loud music. “Gonna be a big night!”
I nodded
tightly with my small smile and locked my teeth together to hold in
a yawn. One of us was going to have a big night with crowd control,
the other a big night with cash coming into the coffers by the
bucket load.
I knew which
guy I was.
Aaron gestured
with a cocktail loaded hand to his friends. “You know my business
partners, right?”
I didn’t know
for sure they were business partners until just then, but I nodded
again and extended my small smile to the other three off duty
police officers that spent all their free time hanging around the
club.
Officer Chris
Parise was a well groomed man whenever he came into the club. The
physical example the Winnipeg Police Department likes to set for
all their officers. Tall but not intimidating. Fit but not muscle
bound. Agile and quick footed, as I’d seen firsthand a time or two.
French-Canadian and bilingual. Well-spoken and not quick to
violence. I’d seen articles in the newspapers where he had acted as
a media spokesperson on occasion, which is a big trusted position
in the Police Force. It meant he was well-liked among the higher
ups as well.
Officer Don
Mackie stood off to his left, a bit taller and leaner. Of Metis
descent which is always a plus for Police Officers in Winnipeg
given the high aboriginal population. He had the build of an
athlete and probably still played a lot of rec hockey in his spare
time. Maybe a coach, I overheard him talking about his kids one
night. Like on many nights here his eyes seemed unfocused, maybe
even a little sad and clearly lost in his own thoughts. Or maybe
he’d just had too much to drink again. Officer Mackie seemed to get
shitfaced a lot when he was at the club.
Behind them
both and un-missable was Officer Gordon Miller. A complete beast of
a man. About as tall as me but with fifty pounds to his benefit,
not all of it fat. Some sort of a Slavic descent I figured but that
was hard to determine for sure. His close cropped hair and beard
belied the expansive landscape of rugged wilderness the rest of his
skin must’ve been covered with. Dark coarse hair practically burst
out the V-neck of his polo shirt and down his tree trunk sized arms
all the way to the knuckles. Where the other three officers in this
group were sleek and clean, Officer Miller was like an older model
Ford truck. Solid, dependable and able to haul anything
anywhere.
I was glad they
were on my side.
Officer
Parise stuck out his hand with a smile. “ Bonjour Joe , comment ca
va ?”
My French
sucks le bag but every
Canadian knows the first question you’re ever taught in elementary
school. “ Ca va bien , Officer
Parise,” I replied loudly while shaking his hand. “Will you
gentlemen be staying til’ close tonight?”
Parise looked
back at his friends with a laugh. “Absolutely. We are here until
the sun comes up.”
Miller let out
an elemental war whoop towards the sky, two beer bottles in each of
his hands. Apparently was attempting a rare quadruple-fister. “We
are gonna get fucking
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