It must be weird to be a regular bouncer at a college bar. When you're at work, you're a god. Everyone wants to be your friend. You have girls constantly coming up to you and hugging you, and you get free alcohol. But what happens when it's over? I knew a guy who went from being a bouncer to a doorman at a fancy apartment building. Suddenly, he gets in trouble for not recognizing people, has to let everyone in, and he's not allowed to beat anyone up. It's sad, really. Why do people argue with bouncers? Bouncers, to bar goers, are your wellbeing. They allow you to enter that mystical bar world that people feel they need to enter for social success. But for some reason, people still argue with them. When I meet a new bouncer, I convince them how good of friends I was with the old one, and make sure to shake their hand every time I leave. That's the only way to get that friend that looks 12 years old in. I once heard someone ask at what point someone becomes a bouncer. I'm pretty sure its about two weeks after they get cut from the team. I hate the bouncers that try to show their power by carding extra hard. Its one thing to do your job, its another to be a prick. They start quizzing you on your birthday and address before they let you pay their salary. Guess what? If no one gets into the bar, they don't work anymore and become bus drivers. Then how do you card people? "I'm sorry sir, I can't let you on. You and I both know that's not your real metrocard." My favorite kind of bouncer is the little tough guy. The guy that never works his own shift because if he tried to stop any trouble, he'd get his ass kicked. Ever wonder what happened to the short little friend of the grade school bully? Stop wondering. Like this column? Then buy the book!