Bouncer School

A few weeks ago I had to take a day long class I refer to as "Bouncer School" or "8 hours of my life I will never get back". It really has nothing to do with the new job I am starting at the Crystal as a security person/bouncer. It is a ridiculous licence that the state of Oregon makes you get. Kiss my ass Oregon. The licensing part of it would not be bad, the problem is that they lump all security positions together. The class only covers one section of this broad position. Store security guards. If I ever want to catch shoplifters at Walmart I am golden. However this will never happen. Because first of all it would require me to set foot in a Walmart and I can't see myself doing that. In fact no one in my bouncer class wants to do that either. My class consisted of two professional body guards, a strip club bouncer and 2 others like me who just want to work at the Crystal in hopes we can hear some fun music and make a little money.
We had an hour lunch break and I had big plans of going to my car and taking a nap. I only had four hours of sleep the night before. I was a little hungover and crabby. Heading out I was stopped by a fellow bouncer school attendee. He was 6'4, 300 pounds and red hair with a mullet down to his waist. He invited me to go across the street and have lunch at the deli. I did not want to be that snotty girl that is above it all so I said sure. Besides you never know when you are going to need a 300 pound red headed body guard in your corner. Someday it might be good to be able to pull that out of your pocket. The deli we went to is really one of those bars where people play video poker and keno. I had never been in such a place. This was a whole new world for me. At what point when I left my home did I cross the state line and end up in Reno. How this happened I do not know but sure enough, there I was. Reno. At 11:30 in the morning there was a guy at the bar too drunk to be served. Women were sitting at video poker machines with pitchers of beer while they argued on their cell phones with their children. I ate my BLT and made conversation with my new body guard friend. Please don't ask me to play pool. He did.
I finished the class, passed my test 49 out of 50. I was finger printed twice, had my criminal background paperwork notarized and now I am officially licensed to ask you to play nice at the Crystal.