Coming to a Bar Near You: The Domesticated Bouncer
To avoid injuries and lawsuits, doormen (and women) are going to etiquette school
MONTEREY, Calif.— Robert C. Smith faced about 20 large, muscular men—many with beards, ponytails, shaved heads and tattoos—and demanded answers.
“What’s a drunk’s job?” he asked the audience, which had gathered here in a drab hotel-conference room.
“To start fights and pee on the floor?” one offered. “To annoy you?” suggested another.
The retired police officer immediately set them straight. “A drunk’s job is to piss you off,” said Mr. Smith. “You can’t lose control.”
Venturing where Emily Post left off, Mr. Smith runs an etiquette school for bouncers, training the men and women who serve on the front lines of bars and clubs. Instead of intimidating rowdy patrons and throwing out troublemakers, bouncers today need to do their jobs with a bit more finesse, mostly to prevent bar owners from getting sued.
There are important rules to bouncing, Mr. Smith tells his students, including tenets borrowed from the 1989 cult classic, “Road House,” starring Patrick Swayze as a tough-but-tender fictional bouncer. Never underestimate your opponent (bouncers have died when they didn’t expect a customer to turn violent). Take any grievances outside, if possible. Be nice.
“It’s your job to persuade this guy out,” Mr. Smith tells the class.
California, Oregon and Hawaii are among states that require bouncers to train, said J.C. Diaz, executive director of the Nightlife and Club Industry Association of America, a trade group for the nation’s 50,000 clubs and bars. Some coaching is available online. Gilbert, Ariz.-based International Security Training LLC offers a course that covers “bad bouncers, good bouncers, gaining rapport with regulars and its tactical value.”
Since putting its bouncers through Mr. Smith’s paces four years ago, The Cloakroom, a strip club in Washington, D.C., has seen a 70% drop in its security staff using force, said Corey Primus, operations manager and a veteran bouncer.
“Before, it was ‘try not to get stabbed and whoop his ass,’ ” said the 6-foot-1-inch, 270-pound Mr. Primus.
As part of his 16-hour course, Mr. Smith shows a photo of a man’s bloodied face after he had been rammed head first into a door by bouncers carrying him out of a club by his arms and legs—like an airplane. The man won nearly $1 million in a lawsuit, Mr. Smith said.
“Folks, I know you’re big and bad,” Mr. Smith said to the group, which included four women. “Strive to never go hands on.” Instead, lure the troublemaker outside on a false pretext. “Just say, ‘I just need to check your ID and the light is better out there’,” Mr. Smith said.
Other tips: Before tossing someone off the premises, remove nearby bottles and glassware that might become weapons or projectiles. Stools can be dangerous, as can stiletto heels.
When a patron is about to become violent, he said, “don’t be afraid to wrap someone up.”
To demonstrate a proper restraining move, two bouncers put an arm lock on bartender Ben Lawley, a student who played the role of an angry drunk. To make the scene seem more authentic, Mr. Lawley shouted obscenities and sent a chair flying across the hotel conference room as he struggled to stay on his feet.
Mr. Smith started his company, Nightclub Security Consultants, nearly 20 years ago when he was still a patrol officer for the San Diego Police Department. One night, after responding to a bouncer’s call, Mr. Smith ended up arresting the same bouncer for beating up a drunken customer. A business was born.
“I got the idea that if we train bouncers, street cops will have more time to do other things than respond to bar fights,” said Mr. Smith, who retired from the department in 2012 and now takes his course around the country. The $5,000 Monterey course is officially called Hospitality Security Training.
Keeping cool in heated situations isn’t always easy. Jesse James, head bouncer at the Bull and Bear Whiskey Bar & Taphouse here, learned that one night after his training.
An inebriated man refused Mr. James’s request to stop interfering with a house band and hurled personal insults at him.
“I started to lose my cool,” said the 6-foot-3-inch, 350-pound 36-year-old. Realizing the situation could escalate, he stepped aside so another bouncer could talk the man out of the club. “You’re trying to be kind, but it’s so hard,” he said. “You try to be a Zen monk.”
Mr. Smith advises students to pick their battles. Women aren’t allowed in the men’s restroom but they often go in anyway. Such a minor offense should be handled with a polite warning, he said.
He tells pupils to respect transgender access to restrooms and to tread lightly if encountering two men together, which could be a drug sale. “Pounding on the door when two guys are doing a dope deal in the stall could erupt in a dangerous situation,” he said.
The Bull and Bear’s current owners, brothers Anthony and Alex Buich, replaced their bouncers with better-trained ones who can’t drink on the job.
On a recent Saturday night, eight bouncers at the pub put their training to use. Mark Hughes, checking IDs at the door, smiled serenely when an inebriated man berated him from the sidewalk for wearing a Donald Trump “Make America Great Again” cap. “You have to let it roll off,” said Mr. Hughes, 42.
Floor manager Eddie Zammarchi remained calm as a young woman shouted obscenities at him for denying her admittance and emptying an open bottle of liquor he found in her purse.
“Sometimes I come to work and feel like, ‘Damn, I’m an adult baby sitter,’ ” said the 28-year-old Mr. Zammarchi, who stands six-feet tall and weighs 357 pounds.
Tony Arango, 23, a club regular, praised the bouncers as “really cool.” But even eagle-eyed bouncers can’t always prevent what might go down as the night wears on.
After a recent visit to the bar, Mr. Arango got punched in the face as soon as he stepped outside. The culprit: a man he had quarreled with inside.
Write to Jim Carlton at [email protected]






































