literature

The Bouncer

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Literature Text

Bailey dashed down the sidewalk, brushing people aside as she raced to her job. Almost there. She could already see a line forming at the entrance. And her mom was at the head of it. Crud. She was dead meat.

“Hi, mom,” she said nervously, fiddling with her baton. Her mother gave her a scrutinizing stare up and down. Bailey’s gray, sleeveless school uniform sweater on top of a white polo and baggy khakis was not pleasing.

“You’re late. Where are your work clothes?” was her mother’s stern response. Bailey immediately rushed into her explanation, those in line looking on impatiently.

“I had homework club until four, then I had to take the subway down to the dojo to pay Sensei, then take it all the way back to the nearest station. I ran the rest of the way here.” The dark-haired older woman simply looked at her, turned around, and walked back into the club. Bailey knew she was looking at a pay cut this week.

“Hello, and welcome to Club Raven. ID, please,” said Bailey pleasantly, but inside, she was falling apart. Her best friend was out sick and she had had to sit alone at lunch that day. Homework club was boring, as she was the only person to finish early, and thus, didn’t get to beat anyone at poker today. Intense martial arts and dance classes and the homework her mother gave her that was to be turned in tomorrow didn’t help matters. As soon as she got off at midnight, she was hitting the sack- hard. It was the bouncer’s job to check ID and dress code (and sometimes check for weapons, though they were pretty easy to spot with a trained eye), and a boring job it was; one which she would have to perform for 6 hours tonight if she wanted any semblence of a paycheck tomorrow. It wasn’t fun, but her mom wanted her training to go somewhere, and money was money. So she stood tall in her favorite pair of steel-toed boots, waiting for her shift to end. After a few hours of tedium, some fun arrived in the form of an ill-dressed boy with a slightly drunken look about him.

“Welcome to Club Raven. May I see your ID please?” she asked politely. Unsuprisingly, the picture on the license didn’t match the boy’s appearance, and his outfit grossly violated dress code. “Sorry, but I can’t allow you to enter. This ID doesn’t match, and you are violating club dress code.”

“Listen, sweetie,” the teenager drawled. “What’s such a cute girl like you doing with such a boring, manly job as this? Come on inside with me, and I’ll show you a party.”

“Sorry sir, but you’re going to have to leave,” she prompted, pushing him out of the line calmly. But he resisted. Not a wise move on his part.

“What’s a little girl like you gonna do to me? I’m a customer, so you better as hell let me in.”

“Sorry, sir, but you’re going to have to leave!” Bailey stomped her steel-toed foot into his, and heard a satisfying crack. She then lifted her leg and kneed him in the groin. At this, the kids behind him ganged up on her. It was easy to guess they were his friends; they all wore jeans, sneakers, and the same color bandanas.

“Look, I’ve had a sucky-ass day at school, and I am dead tired. Don’t try me,” Bailey warned angrily. But one of them did. Idiot. She merely twirled her baton lightly as he began to lunge, and pushed him back, the tip of her baton connecting with his temple. This didn’t seem threatening, but many of the onlookers didn’t know that the baton was actually a blackjack, and that one’s temple is a very strong pressure point. The rest of the boys stared on as he screamed in agony. Baby. Bailey leaned on her baton.

“You think that was painful? I’ll show you pain. Come get some,” she said bravely, but inside she knew she couldn’t really show what she could do. A bouncer could only be so violent. However, this threat caused them to scatter. What a bunch of wusses, she thought, tedium beginning to set in once again. It’s not like I would’ve done much anyway. Maybe a few broken fingers, at the most.

After a long, tiring night at the door, Bailey took the private elevator in a hidden area of the nightclub to her family’s third level living area. She usually preferred to take the stairs, but tonight the bouncer was all but asleep on her feet. I’m so glad it’s Friday.

As soon as she closed the door of her room, Bailey flopped down onto her bed. She would have fallen asleep instantly, if her door didn’t open back up. Her mother. Of course. She would have to learn that silent-walking trick. Without speaking, Bailey’s older look-a-like walked over to the girl’s night table and set her alarm clock for five thirty am.

“Wazzat for?” Bailey asked sleepily.

“I saw your little fight. It was sloppy. Combat practice tomorrow at six.” Bailey sighed and closed her eyes. “Good night, baby,” her mother added with a complete change of tone. She leaned over her daughter and kissed her on the forehead.

Bailey loved her mother. Her creator. The only person she truly feared.
A quick character study based on a drawing I did in sixth grade, then redid in a completely different way last year. I don't have the original, but say so if you want to see the updated version. Anyway, this isn't very good, and I'm only posting it because it's the first in a stream of stories that I'll be writing connecting characters together. Don't you every wonder about life from another person's point of view?
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