Show No Fear: A Bouncer's Diary

Show No Fear: A Bouncer's Diary by Bill Carson

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Authors: Bill Carson
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would often bring us out something to eat. I helped her out one night when she was having some trouble with a couple of young lads who decided to start to smash the place up. They did employ a security guard; he was a young Indian fella, some nights we spent as much time in the restaurant helping him as we did in the club. He was a nice guy and so we couldn’t just stand by and leave him in the shit. After that we were sorted. John was inside doing an internal patrol and I was on the main entrance. Pete has arrived back with two coffees and I had my usual cup of strong tea. Pete goes in to give John a shout. He leaves the drinks on the windowsill and goes inside to find him.
After about three or four minutes no sign of either of them, I look into the bar towards the dance floor area, the smoke machine was making it difficult to see clearly but I could just about see Pete moving around. I got the feeling things were not quite right. As I push my way through the crowd I hear the telltale signs of trouble, glasses and bottles being smashed accompanied by muffled shouts and high pitched screams.
At about twenty feet away Pete was being confronted by two young fellas both armed with bottles, he grabs one guy and dislodges the bottle from his hand and throws the fella to the floor. John is exchanging punches with some other fella, he stops fighting and delivers a perfectly timed roundhouse kick to the other guys face which knocks him out cold, luckily for Pete, the guy was about to bounce a bottle off the back of his skull. John then continues to swap punches with the other fella; just as I get there he draws back his right hand and sends it smashing into the guy’s jaw. Everything seems to be in slow motion, that familiar tingling sensation in the pit of your stomach starts to kick in followed by icy cold shots of adrenaline racing through your veins. A pint glass came flying out of the crowd heading in my direction; it just misses my face and smashes against the wall in front of me sending shards of glass into the air, which are being picked out by the strobe lighting. I didn’t see who threw it but sometimes when things kick off other people who are unconnected decide to join in just for fun. John’s right hand punch was now becoming a regular visitor to the guy’s face delivering stinging painful blows. This fella was getting a right pasting. He must have received at least half a dozen unanswered punches. I move in on him and put him into the old faithful strangle hold.
As soon as I lock it on he’s got no chance, his right hand is searching for a bottle to use against me, he picks up the bottle but with a quick squeeze on his carotid arteries the bottle falls to the floor…he is history.
Dragging him backwards through the crowd I manage to manoeuvre him over to the main entrance, John is right beside me and Pete is now back with us. I turn and face the door and push him outside into the street. Just as I release the hold on him John delivers a perfect right cross which connects on the guy’s jaw. The impact sends a thin stream of blood and snot exiting through his mouth and nostrils, which splatters on the wall next to me. Once we were outside I could see the damage that had been inflicted on him.
One side of his face had not been touched while the other side was a real mess and damaged past recognition. A very painful experience and he won’t be entering any beauty contests for while. I went into the gents to clean the blood from my jacket, when I had put the guy into the strangle hold a fair amount of claret from a bad cut over his eye had leaked out onto my sleeve. I make my way back through the crowd to the front doors to find two Police cars and an Ambulance on the scene; three of them are taken to the nearest casualty department. The one that Pete had thrown to the floor had landed heavily on his shoulder, one had a bad nosebleed courtesy of John’s boot and the other one that John was dealing with was

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