Danger Money

When I first started protecting the partying public I was 21, dressed in a dickie bow and black suit, earning £10 per hour.
Door work, security work, being a bouncer, whichever term suits, still carried a bit of status, those being kept safe respected and appreciated those providing the safety. You were expected to protect the name of the club and its team of staff as well as its customers and by and large that’s how it worked.
Now if you work the door you’re likely to get buzzed off by the young grafters for a wage not far off someone taking orders at a drive through is taking home.
23 years on, things have changed somewhat but for most £10 per hour is still the same wage, for some it’s even as low as £8.
So imagine 30 years ago when the wage was a tenner an hour, doormen must have felt like Dalton in Roadhouse
Me and the team I work with, thankfully have more considerate employers who have moved with inflation.
But stature has turned to a snide wage for the majority though, especially when the hourly rate is hard earned in dealing with knife attacks, very real and extreme violence, threats of death and harm to both the person or persons manning the door and, sadly in these times, their families too.
In times gone by, when men (cliched as it may have been), were still men, problems between individuals were settled rightly or wrongly between those individuals.
Either there and then, or through what was known as an arranged ‘straightener’.
A meeting in a public park or car park, where to some extent it would resemble a bare knuckle showdown.
But all this changed acutely in the 90s, with memory clear as day we watched gun crime become the norm.
So men unwilling, or unable, or too ill-equipped to fight physically, realised that a bigger man more capable physically, was no match for a bullet, the playing field was levelled but never more uneven.
What once was honourable if primitive, then became sordid and perverse; the prevalent realisation that strength in numbers was the way forward and people’s families had in many cases become fair game in the settling of upsets.
Hyena style attacks on the more manly type of lone lions, gave the weaker types the upper hand for a time.
Nothing new in the history of time but the start of a new cycle on the cobbles of Liverpool.
Cliche it may be, primitive it is, but when I was a boy and teen, men were men and the toughest individual men received the respect, kudos and a healthy fear from would be opponents of their ferociousness as fighters.
My time was the time of honourable martial artists and boxers, becoming the most respected men in the inner city society.
Some became bullies and then after a couple of decades of the lesser equipped man, unable to fight back, the bullets became the equaliser.
I remember well, the quietening of the profiles of very capable men not prepared to use weapons and the rise of the new breed. This breed at least in my life time set the tone for the two decades that lay ahead.
Progressively becoming more violent in order to make their mark, maintain and guarantee their ascendancy up the food chain.
What has remained quite consistent though, is the type of individual prepared to work bar and club security.
There are many varieties of the Doorman and throughout this blog, I will give an authentic and picture perfect presentation of them all.
Your perceptions on some may not be altered, but I guarantee with other examples, they will change dramatically.