The air was bitterly cold as bouncers Afa and Samu sullenly stood at the door of Shenaniganz Nightclub. Steam rose from a manhole nearby, and what had been a steady procession of young patrons huddled in impractical evening wear at 1am was now a sporadic trickle of stragglers at 2:45am. The freezing temperatures and inner city sprawl were a world away from the warmth, sandy white beaches, and tropical waters of Afa and Samu’s native Samoa.
A cocksure young man approached between the ropes. “Can I see your identification please?” Afa grunted. “There’s a ten dollar cover tonight” Samu added. It was the same script they had read to several hundred visitors to Shenaniganz since they had arrived in the small Toyota hybrid that was a tight squeeze for either of them, let alone in tandem just before 9pm.
“Ten dollars? You want ten dollars to get into this place?” the young man complained as he fumbled for his identification. This was also a scripted response. Afa and Samu had heard it from at least half of those who had reluctantly parted with a cover charge this evening. Each and every one of them thought that they were the first to question the concept of charging a cover to pay for basic overheads, not to mention DJ Tanner’s outlandish appearance fee.
“Well sir, we do have DJ Tanner here tonight, and he don’t come cheap” Afa pointed out. “Well, I don’t have any money on me. You guys have debit?” the young man slurred. “ATM is three blocks that way” Samu replied, deliberately motioning in the wrong direction.
Afa and Samu repeated their request for identification and a cover to a young couple who dawdled toward them between the red velvet ropes. Afa checked out the attractive blonde. She was definitely easy on the eye. Samu on the other hand profiled her date, a twenty-something yuppie type. No doubt he would try to impress his girl by pitting his perceived intelligence against a couple of dim-witted Island boys.
Samu was two years into a psychology degree. He often joked that you needed one to work in this field. His chosen profession and studies overlapped more than one might imagine. As a cooler he had learned to read people. His studies allowed him to fully interpret what he read. Nine times out of ten, maybe more, he saw the smartass comments a mile away, and was ready for them. They never knew what hit them, and his observations were often more devastating to their ego than a choke hold or haymaker could ever hope to be.
“Can I see your identification young lady? You too sir” Samu asked. The couple were relatively sober, and quickly produced their licenses. “There’s a ten dollar cover” Afa informed them as he handed back the Illinois licenses. “When do you guys close?” the twenty something yuppie enquired with a sly grin. “4 am…last drinks at three thirty” Afa replied. “So we’re only getting forty five minutes of drinking time? I’d say five dollars each sounds more than fair for that” the yuppie proposed with more than a hint of defiance.
Afa sighed. They had only heard that one seven times tonight. Samu leaned in close to the obnoxious yuppie. “This is embarrassing for both of us” he confided. “You really want this girl to think you’re cheap? Is that all she’s worth to you, five lousy dollars? You’re trying your best to get into this girls pants and you aren’t even committed enough to pay full cover?”
The young man turned bright red, and the girl looked upon her date with a mixture of revulsion and disdain. Samu had profiled the couple correctly. This was their first date. The girl was unsure of him despite his upwardly mobile appearance, and the guy was clearly an obnoxious jerk who couldn’t back it up with any form of finance or intellect.
The entire façade of confidence had been eroded from the red-faced patron. He clumsily pulled a crumpled twenty dollar bill from his wallet, and scurried past Afa and Samu with his date following less than closely behind. The girl emerged alone a few minutes later, ambiguously thanking Samu for reasons known only to her.
