Waiting for my eye hemorrhage to go away… Just talked to the guy working at Gustine Market in Tower Grove. Guess what? A bouncer at Pop’s sucker punched him in the mouth.
I think it’s time to shut down some clubs. We don’t need a bunch of coked-up psychopaths roughing people up for no reason.
Feeling a bit better, but my eye is still chewed up. Thanks again, coked-out Club 15 bouncers. You guys are some A-1 psychos.
By the way, if you want to kill patrons for no reason instead of beat them up for no reason, you might consider finding a job on the east side. That kind of thing flies over there, I understand.
Newsflash! Jim Edmonds’ Club 15 continues to suck.
Tonight’s the night! Hop in the car with your closest pals and head on down to Jim Edmond’s Club 15 where the turbo-retard bouncers will beat you up apparently to meet some kind of secret beating quota. Visibly drunk 18-year-olds will swoon while you’re thrown into the stairwell for a good working-over.
Did I mention the overpriced beer?
Please read the “My Story” page for a synopsis of what happened to me at Jim Edmond’s Club 15 & Steakhouse in downtown St. Louis.
I was taken to an access stairwell by two bouncers and beaten and choked out for absolutely no good reason. I wasn’t given the opportunity to leave (which I gladly would have!), and I didn’t fight back or lay a hand on the bouncers.
But they beat me up anyway. So consider my Thursday 9/23/11 when contemplating your options for a Thursday, Friday, or Saturday night on the town.
Any establishment with even marginally professional managers and security personnel doesn’t shove beaten up patrons out their doors. Even semi-competently run establishments instruct their employees to break up fights instead of instigating them, and the stupidest of fools knows better than to make enemies out of paying club patrons. Especially when they’re sober, self-employed, savvy, and connected patrons.
By the way, dimwit webmaster of Club 15, you may consider learning how to spell “fifteen”. It’s just not that hard.
They’re giving out free beatdowns with club admission on Thursday nights! Only at Jim Edmond’s Club 15. You only have to buy one drink. The little black meatball fella with short dreads will even throw in a choking while a bald white guy, some kind of midget version of Billy Corgan, watches.
(I guess this is how they tenderize their steaks.)
The best part, for those of you into exhibitionism, is that the head bouncer and some greasy guy in stereotypical sleazeball club owner garb and hair-do also watch while it happens. Great, right?
You also get the nagging possibility of a skull fracture and the necessity of a CT scan, which certainly isn’t cheap.
Still not convinced? You also get to waste your time reasonably far into the future when anyone who knows you asks to know what happened, and then on top of that you get to look like an unprofessional mess with a big black eye and bruises all over your upper body.
Luckily, if you’re someone like me, you live and work in a relatively high profile spot and get to let each and every person know what happened. And where.
So let me know if you’re going.
Since I don’t need any more distractions in my business life, I’ve set up a new blog to document the whole bouncer beatdown incident.
Folks, if you’re thinking about going out on the town for a night of drinks and dancing, avoid Club 15 in downtown.
Why? Well it turns out that they beat your ass for absolutely no good reason.
A bald white bouncer decided that he didn’t like my face. So he decided to grab me by the neck and drag me out of his little area. Then he and his dread-sporting black friend bouncer, supposedly named Tony, dragged me by the throat to the stairwell off the dance floor, while the head bouncer and manager looked on, while Tony worked me over. I was punched in the face over and over and over, for absolutely no reason.
Now of course, there’s no video footage of this, since they decided to beat me in the stairwell. But that said, anyone who knows me knows that I’m a) not violent, b) not a trash talker, c) not a criminal or a fighter, and d) not a drinker. So where does that leave us?
The worst part of this is that the cops outside the venue told me, in no uncertain terms, that it was my word against the bouncer’s, and that it was a waste of time to press charges or pursue any legal action at all.
So in DIY spirit, I give you these pictures.