RADITUDE!!!
Thanks, Lindsay for the chocolate milk! It’s tasty.
I’m busy here plugging away trying to get Stampede hiring and schedules done. I’m still getting used to the differences, both subtle and not so subtle, between being a doorman and a manager. Eight years ago when I started out as a doorman at The Palace on Stephen Ave. I had no idea I’d be managing The Roadhouse today. Everything from hiring, scheduling, the random problems that come up during the night, the day meetings, it’s all still new. But it’s a hell of a lot of fun.
Don’t get me wrong, there are some days when being a doorman at The Back Alley or the short-lived Spin Nightclub were way easier. But they weren’t nearly as fun or rewarding. The staff we have here at The Roadhouse are unbelievable. From little Scotty to Ry Bakes and Bradsaw. Everybody here is super rad. And I don’t think I’ve ever been so comfortable getting kissed sensually on the neck by another man as I am now (the Ultimate Fighter’s Nick Ring). It’s still pretty damn weird though. Ha ha ha!
I can hear Aidan (Shady A) working on booking limos for ladies night behind me right now. He’s calling the lucky girls who had their name drawn for a complimentary limo package on us for ladies night.
Jordan and Joel are hard at work getting our annual golf tournament ready to go for this Monday. I can’t golf this year but last year’s was fun as hell. Myself, Brad Cardinal, Cregg from Pita Pit on 17th Ave, and Matty Long were the best damn ragtag team of golfers that ever hit Silver Wing. I shotgunned my first ever beer that day, Brad didn’t have any clubs so he used the complimentary left handed wedge for every shot (even though he’s right handed), and watching Matty chase the golf part with his pants around his ankles will forever be a memory. Maybe not a good one, but a memory.
Enough of my rambling on and on. Talk to you crazy fukkers later!
JR OUT!!!!!!
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