Bouncers On Trial: Cockblock Karate Chop

Are friendly and respectful bouncers like these guys a minority?

It’s a widely known fact that the bouncers of Bristol can be extremely unpleasant and aggressive. Many believe they can get away with how they treat the customers who help to pay their wages but it doesn’t have to be that way. Every week, we’ll be putting bouncers on the stand for their actions and asking you to decide: Innocent or Guilty?

This week’s story follows a young male fresher, out on the pull on a crisp October evening at the well-known establishment ‘The Bombshelter’. First year, Julian, was especially keen for the coming evening as he wasn’t a regular club goer and had been told on good authority that ‘the birds really let loose during Freshers; it’s like mating time at the waterhole’.

He waited quietly in the queue, full of excitement for the coming night. So far, his time at Bristol had been a story of unmitigated success; his decks (not plugged in) were judged to be ‘really cool,’ his recent haircut (£8.50, Whiteladies Road) seemed to be working, and his converse (black on the right foot, white on the left) were innovative and, without doubt, highly trendy.

It took nearly an hour and a half, but, finally, Julian was in. The humidity hit him instantly; it was like being in a Russian bath house. The dance floor in front of him was a sea of potential. This was what he had been waiting for.

He started queuing for the bar having noticed that Jagerbombs were a compulsory accessory. A girl wearing a ‘Biology Bar Crawl’ t-shirt caught his eye and he remembered the aforementioned advice. Perhaps this was his time to pounce.

She seemed game enough and happily accepted the drink he gave her. As an inexperienced closer, Julian fell back on the well-rehearsed ‘It’s so loud in here, do you want to go for a cigarette outside?’ She nodded and followed him across the packed dance floor towards the smoking area. In his elation he didn’t see the queue and charged through the door.

As the welcome wave of fresh air hit his face, he suddenly felt a pain in his right shoulder. Turning around, he realised that the earpiece-wearing, clipboard-toting, puffa jacket-clad bouncer had just karate chopped him. The pain of the blow filled his body and in anguish he lashed out with a direct punch to his aggressor’s chest.

Hurt and ashamed, the pavement proved to be Julian’s only friend.

Seemingly unaffected by his desperate attempt at salvaging respect from the situation, the bouncer seized his outstretched arm and twisted it until Julian was at his mercy, trapped in a headlock. With no chance to explain himself to Biology Girl, Julian was brutally escorted out and dumped on the pavement. Looking back into the unflinching gaze of the bouncer, all Julian could do was burst into tears and prepare to spend another night alone.

*The names and places in this story have been changed to protect the identity of those involved.

Was the bouncer out of line? Was true love defeated by a karate chop from behind? Or did Julian get what he deserved?

The Tab wants to hear about your bouncer experiences. Send in your stories to features@bristoltab.co.uk and the best will be published here every week.