Let’s set the scene, here. You and a bunch of your buddies go out to a nightclub in a foreign country — let’s call it Western Europe — and start doing what you always wanted to do with a bunch of women Back Home but couldn’t because the women’s brothers and cousins have no sense of humor and are likely to cut your nuts off. Now these “foreign” women are not only dressed like whores but also seem to have no brothers and cousins whatsoever. But for some reason, they get upset with being pawed, fingered and squeezed without giving permission (go figure, right?). So they call the club bouncers and you get tossed out on the street because you’re acting like oafish animals.
Do you think, “Hmmm… maybe this isn’t the way to do things here. Perhaps we ought to change our behavior somewhat.” Of course you don’t — because, as it happens, you’re a bunch of oafish animals. (And let’s take a wild guess at this point, and assume that Back Home is nowhere close to Western Europe.)
So what you do is return to the same nightclub and demand to be let back in and when refused entry, you try scaling the fences and getting in that way — you know, like you used to do Back Home. The bouncers, for some reason, aren’t having any of this and toss you back out onto the street.
Whereupon you and your oafish buddies pull out a couple machetes (that you just happened to have about your person) and attack the bouncers.
No doubt, when these pricks are eventually captured it’ll be all about the pore starvin migrants and asylum seekers, and some asswipe German judge will rule that the bouncers were actually to blame.
And when the German people get upset about this, they’ll be labeled “rightwingers”…
HA!
My best friend in Florida is Frank Seifert (not the one in the article) whom I met when we were both stationed in Germany in the mid-late 70’s and we frequently went to a little “disco” there named Titanic. If we’d seen negro’s with shetty’s they would have been killed with chairs and anything else laying about.
Yeah, bouncing is a tough job…
Back around ‘68-‘69, fellow I worked with moonlighted as a bouncer at a club in NE Washington, DC. Club attracted a sizable clientele from a nearby university as well as local indige. Working the door one midweek night “Joe” was stabbed by someone he may have been in process of carding. “Joe” hit the floor dead and the perp promptly beat feet. “Joe” was good natured but a skosh bravado. The combination of traits attracted women and rubbed guys the wrong way. Working theory was that his killer was someone he less than courteously turned away from the club or the boyfriend of a gal he heavy hit on. To my knowledge, perp was never ID’d/apprehended making it “cold case”.
In during the RVN era, he spent the bulk of his enlistment in Germany and had been recently discharged. We joked that he’d been out just long enough to DUI-ding most every surface of a newly purchased VW. One of those “cheaper than hamburger” models. And lordy, a lifetime of babes at his funeral…all crying.