As I enter, the bouncer sticks his arm out like he’s a toll. Just my luck. So I hand him my ID, he looks at it and doesn’t even say anything just does the obnoxious motion with his fingers to get out of his bar.
Now I have to plead my case of being the manager and that I’m not drinking. I try and explain but he’s very strict on letting people into this small bar that looks like a 14 year old can get served. I guess I look 12.
It’s not really working because of my age. He doesn’t believe that I manage the band that I just followed through the door because he thought I was too young. So he pretty much left me with two options: walk away or get a band member to vouch for me.
I grab the bass player and tell him to come over and ask him if I’m the manager of the band. He says “Yes, of course.” The bouncer’s not satisfied. How I phrased the question was not up to par. Honestly bouncer, entering this bar is not worth this much effort. Whatever, I’m still bitter about it. Now I have to grab Matthew, the lead singer, to stop sound check and vouch that his manager is both younger than him and under the age of 21.
As I sat at the bar with my tail between my legs, I had two massive “DO NOT SERVE” sharpied onto each of my hands. If it’s not possible to humiliate me anymore, he did them in two different languages. So every time someone asked me what was on my hand, I had to explain. I got the last laugh though, I was Instagramming the whole time.
*All name’s changed to protect the identity of my clients.*