BOUNCERS: What stands between you and fun.

I worked as a bouncer off and on over a period of three years when I first worked in the bar scene, a whole variety of different places with a whole different variety of staff members.  The first thing I noticed is 1) A lot of these guys REALLY love being paid $9/hr to watch other people have a good time 2) A lot of these guys are real assholes.  Sure, there were good ones in the bunch, but there are certain breeds to these "Security Professionals" that fit their uniquely visible (and tacky) blueprint:

The Player
Spends two hours getting ready for his shift.  Every hair, perfect.  The right amount of Axe is applied in the right quantity to the right places.  The Armani V-neck is on.  This guy believes women are drawn to the guys that protect them, unaware that women are drawn who the suckers that will let them jump the line in the club before the leave with someone else.

Tuffy-Tuff Tuff
Being a bouncer means you have to get physical, and nobody loves it more than this ex-high school bully with a one million pound chip on his shoulder.  He DARES you to say that to him again.  Fucking DARES you.  Usually this species is shorter than most men, hence the smoldering Napoleon complex that he wears on his sleeve like a badge.

The "Officer"
He wears tact pants, jack boots, Kevlar gloves and a buzz cut.  He calls unruly customers "perps", is 35 pounds overweight and has failed the police entrance exam four times.  This job allows him to take out his failures and frustrations on vulnerable and intoxicated people, holding up lines to double check I.D's and constantly interrupting actual cops trying to do their jobs.

He's Out of his League
Sure, he's tall or he's big, but then a fight breaks out and he gets his ass handed to him fast than you can say "Ninja Loot!".  This guy shouldn't be a bouncer, and he's kidding himself pretending he's phony tough.  Back to WoW, slim!

Professional Night Club  Security Specialist Personnel
He loooooooooooooves being a bouncer.  His eyes are LOCKED on the customers.  All business.  He knows Morse code with his flashlight.  He uses his unnecessary head-set like a Saturn 5 engineer.  Breaking the dress code?  Take it outside, Welfare Willy.  He "can smell a fight brewing 2 minutes in advance".  He watches Roadhouse every night before work to get jacked up.  Oh, "Just went to your car", huh?  Back of the line, loser.  He REALLY wants somebody to end his sad and pathetic life.

Seriously, this documentary exists.  As if there is a "Science" to this profession:

Laws of the bouncer: Never turn your back,

never leave a man behind, never fall in love.