Concertgoers live in a world they believe to be loud and free. But there is, unheard by most, an outer world, a barrier between in and out, just as loud but not as free as they thought — the world outside a venue, where the door guy simply wants you to pay the cover charge. Welcome to a few nights in the life of Tin Roof’s door dude, Rex Stickel.

Saturday

9:06 p.m.

Me: “Cover is $7.”

Guy: “I don’t have any cash. What am I supposed to do?”

Me: “We have an ATM inside, and I’ve got change for you when you’re ready.”

Guy: “So what, I go on there and what, buy cash?”

Me: “Well, it’s an ATM, you don’t really buy it.”

9:10 p.m.

Guy comes out with a $20.

Me: “Right on, man, I got your change.”

Guy: “This is for two. It’s for me and a female.”

Me: “It’s all right even if it wasn’t.”

9:23 p.m.

Older couple walks up.

Me: “Hey guys, the cover tonight is $7.”

Man: “Woah, woah, woah, a piece? Hang on there. Take a look at my lady here. I’d say two for one. She’s prettier than me.”

Me: “She’s not that pretty. It’s $7 a piece.”

10:58 p.m.

Me: “The cover is $7.”

Guy: “Still? Still?”

Me: “You know those rich touring bands, always traveling around trying to take everyone’s money, $7 at a time. It’s gross is what it is.”

Girl: “Here’s $15. Keep the change.”

Friday

7:15 p.m.

Guy pays the cover.

Me: “Thanks dude! The front door is right there!”

Guy, points to stage door. “What’s this way?”

Me: “Well, that’ll put you right on stage, so unless you’re looking to make your debut …”

Guy: “I’ll stick to the front door.”

8:18 p.m.

Me: “Hey man, cover is $7.”

Guy: “I haven’t been here in a while, I just wanted to see if the place is still dark and dirty.”

Me: “Well hell man, you’re in the right place. We’re even darker and dirtier than you remember!”

9:13 p.m.

Reassuring a grown woman that yes, all the donation money tonight does in fact, go to “the kitties.”

10:27 p.m.

DAMMIT: the shit parker that screwed up our parking lot turned out to be a super sweet lady and I couldn’t use any of the insults I spent all night coming up with.

Sunday

11:11 p.m.

Me: “Cool, now I just need to see your ID.”

Lady: “Really? You need to see my ID?”

Me: “So, you want me to agree with you about how old you look?”

Lady: “Here.”

Thursday

9:13 p.m.

Guy: “Hey I’m not actually going to the show, but I need to use the ATM.”

Me: “That’s fine man, go ahead.”

Guy: “… also I might pee while I’m in there too.”

Me: “Woah, woah, woah. Bring that pee back outside when you’re done.”

Guy: “That’s fine.”

10:57 p.m.

It’s strange, it’s like the more a guy smells like Axe Body Spray, the less he wants to pay the cover.

Friday

8:37 p.m.

Guy: “We’re just here for one and done, man.”

Me: “That’s cool, if you decide to stay I’ll be out here to take the cover.”

Guy: “Hey, do you know that guy bartender? He’s got real long dreadlocks, down to his ankles …”

Me: “Sure, you must mean Greg! He works at The Mill! You know him?”

Guy: “No, he’s cool though. Is he in here?”

Me: “No, he works at The Mill.”

9:32 p.m.

Me: “Cover is $7.”

Lady hands me $20. “I’ll do both of us.”

Me: “Hey, whatever you guys are into.”

Guy: “Hell, I’m into not paying any money.”

9:47 p.m.

Thinking of getting a stamp for the door and only using it when people ask for one. Make it say, “I’M A PEDO” or maybe “it’s Dickbutt” or something.

10:40 p.m.

Lady goes inside to use ATM. Pokes her head outside.

Lady: “Hey! Come here! Show me where my money is!”

Me: “Uh…”

Lady: “THIS MACHINE STOLE MY MONEY!”

I walk inside, look at her receipt.

Me: “It says here ‘UNAPPROVED’.”

Lady: “Oh. Well I’ll try a different card.”

Me: “Come bug me when you have the money.”


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