Amazing scientific find! Neanderthal man located!

Scientists today announced the discovery of the so-called “missing link”, a primitive form of human closely resembling a giant ape, showing a very limited level of intelligence. The creature was found working as a bouncer in the Sussex pub near Leicester Square.

There are times when it seems to me that the sole purpose of bouncers is to give something to do, to jumped-up shits with an overblown sense of their own importance. I have *never* been grateful for their presence – not once – but their idiotic lack of common sense has caused aggravation on more than one occasion.

One evening, a dozen or so of us were out on a stag night, and were refused entrance because one (1) of the party was wearing training shoes. Luckily, he’d come up from Bristol for the event and had a change in his bag; he switched them over, and the same bouncer who’d blocked his way in a totally unremitting way, now welcomed him like a long-lost friend. Now, some of the blame for such idiotic rules has to lie with the owners — you are either a fit person to enter their establishment, or you’re not, what freakin’ difference does your choice of FOOTWEAR make? But, I guess, it’s necessary to keep the rules as simple as possible, because anything which requires intelligence beyond the level of pond-scum, will be too complex for your average bouncer to handle.

Witness last Monday [scarcely a peak night]. Myself and Simon Moore, keeper of the enormous and recommended Emmanuelle Beart site, visited the Cinema Store for a browse, and opted to go on for a pint or five afterwards, in the nearby Sussex pub. Several beers later, we were approached by a sloping-foreheaded goon, the archetypal bouncer, wearing a long coat despite the mild weather — presumably underneath it was a bone with which to brain members of other tribes. He asked me to put my jacket on.

“Excuse me?” was my first, fairly obvious, reaction. “No colours” was the grunted reply. I looked down at my shirt. New York Mets. I looked up at the gorilla to see if he was joking. He wasn’t, but then, I should have known that — both bouncers and Customs officers seem to require a sense of humour bypass as a condition of employment. I looked around for hordes of rampaging Yankees fans, and was disappointed. I enquired politely if he was aware that the Mets were a baseball team and that the “no colours” rule was clearly there to stop football fans. I mentioned the two hours we’d been there already, without the SLIGHTEST HINT of trouble.

However, needless to say, the thug in front of me would brook no argument, and I put the jacket on, simply because I couldn’t be bothered to argue with someone whose sole line of reasoning was physical intimidation. Even though anyone could still see very clearly that I was wearing a Mets shirt under the jacket, this mollified Mr. I.Q.Lukewarm and he shuffled off, presumably to bother another peacefully drinking customer.

The only bright spot, which might stop me from crossing the place off the list of viable drinking establishments, was that the staff’s opinion of their “security” was just as low. Though since the bouncers have apparently thrown people out for no other reason than being male [I’m not making this up, it came directly from a barman], I think I’ll find somewhere else to drink. It’s not as if there are any shortage of places in the West End!