Did I have any experience running a club? No.
I was willing to figure that shit out though. I figured it couldn’t be too hard. I would be ordering liquor and making sure the spot was staffed well enough with bartenders, waitresses and security. I’d need a reliable cleaning service to come through every morning. I’d need a DJ and maybe some good promoters, but there wasn’t really much I’d need outside of that… probably
I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do with my life for real. I was heading quickly toward thirty and even though that shit wasn’t old by any means, walking through life without even thinking about how I’d like it to play out was starting to stress me out a little bit.
I mean, I knew that I wanted to get married and have kids and shit but even that seemed like a far off goal. I didn’t have a house or the consistent income I would have liked to have to do either of those things, and even if I had them, I didn’t have a partner, male or female, to do that stuff with either.
The man in front of me was rattling off information and reminders and I just stared at him with a blank expression. He had regulars apparently and they liked themed events at least once or twice a month.
I snapped back into myself and blinked at the man in front of me when I heard the words dangerous and guns.
“What?”
“The Barron family,” he repeated himself. “They come in every once in a while and have parties and shit. They usually let me know in advance so I can have more security than usual, but they provide their own security too. They’re cool people. They tip nice and they don’t end their events with shootouts often, but they do fight a lot. They pay for damages and their family has a running relationship with the police so even if you dialed them up, they probably wouldn’t do much.”
“The Barron family?” I repeated after him.
“Yeah. They’re a well known family around here. It’s usually four brothers and the oldest brother, King, usually arranges dates and times and shit and one of the younger ones coordinates with the security. They’re usually pretty transparent with what they have going on. Trust me, they’re good people. I promise.”
“Yeah, okay. If they’re going to be having shootouts in my spot, they’re going to have to find somewhere else to be.”
“Yeah, alright.” He chuckled. “Good luck with that.”
I didn’t comment. I just glanced down at the final contract, signed on the dotted line and tossed the pen on the desk.
“Nice doing business with you.” He grinned. “If you want to come in later tonight, I’ll introduce you to the people that already work here and then sometime tomorrow I’ll help you take stock of liquor and stuff. We’ll get you set up and transitioned in the next week or so.”
“Sounds good.” I shook his hand then collected my copy of our agreement and headed out, excited for what was coming up next.
I spent the day running errands. I moved some money around in my bank accounts, paid some bills, cut my grass, washed some laundry and cooked something quick to eat before taking a shower and getting dressed for the club.
I showed up prior to opening and the previous owner walked me through the usual night routine. He introduced me to bartenders, bottle girls and waitresses who were staying on with the club. Then, he showed me where he kept the old paperwork he was leaving behind. It was mostly to show me trends in sales and bills for the building but I appreciated it.
By the time I got all the information I felt like I needed, the club was already open and people had started to pour in.
The previous owner let me know that there was no need for me to be at the club every night as long as I had a good team around me and managers and security I felt I could trust. I understood what he was saying and let him know he was good to head out. I was more than capable of calling him if I had any questions but I knew what worked for him wouldn’t necessarily work for me. I would have to figure some stuff out on my ownand I knew trial and error was necessary so I was willing to take a few losses and get it wrong if that was what it took.
I started the night behind the bar with the two other bartenders that worked there, Layla and Kate. Then, I headed outside to work the door with the three bouncers. I was a firm believer that in order to be a good leader, you needed to be able to be a follower. I wanted to make sure I was capable of working every job that I had staffed. After working the door, I planned on working as a waiter and walking drinks back and forth to the different VIP sections as needed. At the end of the night, I’d stay to clean.
I wasn’t a perfectionist or anything, but I was someone who liked things done a specific way. That didn’t make me delusional. I wanted to make sure that I had realistic expectations when it came to the club, how it should be run and what was reasonable to expect from someone I employed.
I found out I wasn’t a fan of bartending from the people who were all vying for our attention to get their drinks as quickly as possible to the people who became belligerent when drinking too much. Being a bouncer was better, but not by much. Any time there was any sort of commotion I needed to be there to diffuse it, and if I couldn’t, I needed to be prepared to remove someone.
I knew that I could. It didn’t mean I looked forward to it.
I stood outside with security anyway, talking and joking with the guys in between patting people down and checking IDs.
The line had already been significantly shortened when my sister called and I excused myself to answer the call.
“Hello?”
“Asante,” she sang my name. “How’s the first night going?”
“It’s going good, I think.” I smiled as I answered her and walked toward the far end of the building to put some space between me, the thumping of the loud music playing inside ofthe club and the sounds of all of the drunk customers talking and laughing around the entrance.
“You think?” She repeated after me.
“It’s the first night. I’m feeling it out, but I’m excited.”
