Maroon

For all the enjoyment it brings me, this World Series is high stress.

I had the pleasure of watching a bouncer, bounce some mongoloid the other night. I took a special interest, since I had observed this homer looking for trouble all night. A bouncer is not a complex person. I'm sure there are a few Dalton (Patrick Swayze in Roadhouse) type cats in the business, but for the most part a bouncer has one interest, and it's not reading or meditation. The bouncer is the guy who has searched his whole life trying to find a way to kick ass in a bar without getting thrown out himself. He strips his shirt off when he sees a fight at a party or anywhere else and yells "Who wants some?" So when he's finally getting paid to regulate, he takes extreme joy in lording over you. Staring you down while he holds your ID gives him a sensation not unlike when you've won an award. The bouncer comes to work pleading with his higher power that somebody, anybody might please act out during his shift. When asked would you rather remove a rowdy patron tonight, or be having sex while watching a live football game (unobstructed view), and lifting weights made out of beer? The bouncer would look at you like ask him to try on an argyle sweater, and then promptly open the nearest door with your face.