For a few years, not too long ago, I worked security at a large and extremely popular night club (2000+ through the door on average nights). So here goes...
We confiscated IDs that did not match the people that presented them. To make it seem like it was their choice to leave it, we gave them the option to leave it or we would call local patrol to come and verify that it was them on the ID. They always left the ID, and we destroyed them at the end of the night. The only ones we would not do this for is military IDs, but in some extenuating circumstances (read: people who insist they are the person on the card when they
clearly are not and decide they want to get confrontational about it) we turned the IDs over to the person's chain of command so it could be worked out.
Regularly, we would bust a group of guys (or girls) trying to use the same ID for two people in a small group. I doubt we caught them all, but a definite pro-tip would be
not to use the ID for two consecutive guys in line. It was unbelievable how many people were stupid enough to attempt this.
We actually did care about the customers and try to prevent drunk driving despite what some may think. I have personally pulled an unwilling drunk person out of their car, confiscated their car keys, and called a taxi on MANY occasions.
Contrary to popular belief we were
NOT allowed to have ANY drinks while working. Yet our boss did not have any problems with us talking up some pretty young ladies and... "making love in this club", if you will, SO LONG AS we got someone else to cover the spot we were supposed to be watching. If anything, it was encouraged and subsequently celebrated by passing the news around the entire staff.
That's right,

ing at work =

ing hot girls at work =
This was great for discussion at the end of the night while cleaning and reseting the club for the next night. On the flip side, we often busted patrons getting it on in various places (the club was huge, multiple floors and rooms) and got lots of laughs out of interrupting them. We caught people doing everything from doing it in the bathroom stalls to guys full on finger $%@#ing a girl in the middle of the dance floor. Yes, in the MIDDLE of the dance floor, surrounded by hundreds of people. Alcohol makes your inhibitions go away, kids.
We had secret service style ear pieces to communicate valuable information to everyone on security. Real important stuff like "hey, come up to this second floor, there's these two hot chicks making out and we're shining our flashlights on them and they're going at it even harder." or "Hey are you at the front? I'm looking out the window from the third floor. Wait til you see the black dress coming your way." Things like that.
We weren't supposed to touch patrons at all for any reason; however, the boss said we could use our discretion if we felt the person is a danger to other patrons or ourselves. Often, we interpreted any physical contact (a shove, push, etc.) from a belligerent or trouble making customer as reason enough to grab the person by the arm and start their forced evacuation of the building. Usually this resulted in one of two scenarios: a) the easy way or b) the
really easy way. I'll assume you all can figure out the difference between them. The people that actually gave the most trouble were the ones who stood in one spot, crossed their arms, and said they weren't leaving and not to touch them. Situations like this were highly annoying because we had to call the police and have them come into the club and threaten to ticket the person for trespassing if he or she did not leave.
Lots of people that ask me about my bouncing days don't seem to think fights happened in bars anymore with lawsuit happy America. Well, they did. On more occasions than I would prefer, I found myself in full on knock down drag out fights with groups of 10+ people despite the generally laid back crowd. It only took one asshole to throw a quick fist and the UFC wannabes would start pouring out of the woodwork. Handling the guys was the easy part. Getting beat by purses, shoes, and whatever the girlfriend could grab as we were dragging the guy out was the real pain in the ass.
We were attacked from time to time when trying to break up fights. Generally speaking, it's always Mr. Getting-his-ass-kicked who wants to fight the people pulling him away from his current predicament. We always tried to maintain self control when hit, but the bottom line is it's natural to be livid if someone sucker punches you square in the face when you are not trying to fight them. Most cases, a love tap to the jaw would get you a face to face encounter of the steel door kind or maybe a short one way flight that resulted in an asphalt crash landing. However, I would be lying through my teeth if I claimed that there weren't nights where we had to pull a fellow security guy off of some poor bastard. Hell, I'd be lying if I said I was never the guy getting pulled off.
There was a cover to get in the club and there was always a line. Often times people would try to circumvent this in various ways. Guys knew how to grease wheels the right way, so some nights we would take home quite a bit of extra cash from expedited entry service fees. Girls never tried money, they usually preferred bargaining in different ways. Most of security (including myself) was more of a sucker for the "pretty girl next door asking politely" approach as opposed to the "I'm a slut, check out my boobs" method. Entitled women with personalities about as real as their chests had such a hard time figuring this out and would often whine
Bimbo: "why do
those girls get to go in?!".
Me:
Internal dialog: probably because I wont catch them doing blow on the back of the toilet later right before they leave with some guy that is not that same guy from last week, or the week before, or the week before.... "Oh I'm sorry. Zoned out for a minute. Hey, uh.... I think you might want to go to your car and check your makeup

k"
Bimbo: :shock:
runs to car and shows up back in line 10 minutes later
No amount of bleach blonde hair and silicone can shield from a subtle "you don't look so attractive right now" attack.
I've seen people do so many random/dumb things that I could write out pages upon pages of stories. Which was basically the best part about the job: people watching. A night club is like a gigantic

ed up social experiment where everything happens in extremes. Highly entertaining. Sadly, it still managed to get old after a while and I believe my days working at a bar are done for good.
I think that's enough secrets for now. Just figured I'd add to the thread since reading the ones from other people have been entertaining.