Brigid at reception

brigidIt was around the reception that most revolved at Maximus. There sat the beautiful Irish blonde Brigid with long legs and deep decolletage giving evidence to a pair of well formed breasts. Besides her, a male receptionist with a thick black moustache whose name I do not recall but that I thought of as Yugoslav, today I would have said, Slovenian. He later disappeared and was replaced by John who owned a Jaguar with a giant casset reader.

The manager was Jay, an easy going Scotsman, that we sometimes saw around the reception. My job during normal days and at peak hours was to watch the entrance, leading downstairs, so that no unwanted guest or unpaid customer would sneak in.

The licensing laws were very clear. In order to purchase and consume alcohol, after pub hours, you needed a membership, acquired and paid for, some time earlier. Did the clubs follow these rules? Well I leave that to each and every one to make their own judgement.

As I recounted earlier my first job was to chat people in, but sometimes I even had to do the opposite. Especially on cup final days when hordes of people from the north would come down on London. Well refreshed after the pubs had closed they would desperately look for new joints in which to carry on their drinking. The bouncer was a tough looking Yugoslav, today I would have said Croat. His sole appearance having discussions with these mobs were seen, by himself, as far too provocative and in order not to create fights he would asked me to chat with them and in a mild form let them know that it would cost them £5  just to get membership and still they would not be able to drink anything. Bad idea, mates!

They generally bought my arguments without argument.

It still did not save me from getting a black eye or “shiner” after some guy run in.I managed to get him back to the reception. As he was discussing the matter with John and Brigid he suddenly hit me and left me seeing small stars.  It did not help a bit that John run after him because that bird had flown…

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.