Saturday Night People - Nottingham Articles

THE BARTENDER

Joseph Leivers has worked at far too many Nottingham bars to mention.

I’ve always wanted to work in pubs since I was six, when I used to go to parties with my Mam, and people would get us to make drinks for them. I started as a glass collector when I was 16, and became a barman the minute I turned 18. I didn't see it as a career at first – I only did it to rack up some holiday money – but behind every bartender is a sneaking ambition to own a bar, and that’s what I’d like to do eventually.

Working in bars is the only job I’ve come across where you enjoy the beginning of the week; our weekend is on Monday and Tuesday. Things only start to pick up in town on Wednesday, because that’s when the students come out, and by Thursday you’re already bracing yourself for the weekend. Saturday night for us actually begins at 8pm on Friday, because that’s when you start really working your arse off. Friday tends to be a more older, local crowd, but Saturday is bulked out with out-of-towners, stag and hen dos, people on birthday nights… just everyone.

On a good night, you’re getting two thousand people through the door and you’re just buzzing; dealing out drinks, having banter, chatting up, dealing with arseholes, making tips, getting phone numbers. And when your shift’s over, you can pretty much walk into any bar you like and have a few on the house. It’s a very solid community here; you feel like you know everyone in town. The fraternity of bar staff in Notts is very tight; we’re all serious partiers, we’re all grafters, and we all love sambuca.

People assume that it’s a dangerous job, but I’ve never had trouble. When you’re in the right bar with the right door staff you feel invincible, because if someone gives you shit, you’re just a call or even a wink away from getting ‘em removed. To be honest, Saturday is one of the safest nights of the week – it’s the weeknights when there’s no door staff when it can get moody, and you get the feeling that the punters have taken over the place. I’ve seen some amazing kick-offs; I was working in the Lace Market at 2am, clearing up, and someone upstairs shouts “Fucking hell! Look out the window!” and we saw 15 blokes kicking seven bags of shit out of each other, and were locked in for two hours while the police tried to sort it. One of the waitresses at a bar I won’t mention found that some twat had stuck a knife in the cork of a wine bottle. He went mental when he came back from the bogs and saw it in her hand while I’m ringing the coppers. Luckily, he pegged it.

I think that as far as the night-time economy goes, the boom time is over. We peaked about five years ago: the Lace Market was really kicking off, people were coming from all over the country, queues all over the place, bars getting reviewed in the Sunday supplements, it was all gravy. Problem is, trendy bars started springing up all over the place, all aiming for the few people in Notts who could actually afford it. A new place would open, all the minted punters would flock to it, and then as the word got round there’d be a slow trickle of penny millionaires who’d take all their wages out the cashpoint, flash a fat roll about, and only spend twenty quid, and the place’s reputation goes down the pan. When the Cornerhouse opened up, that dragged a lot of people away from the Lace Market, and Geisha shutting down was a huge blow. The Lace Market will pick up again, no doubt, but it’ll take a while. People will always want to drink in town.

I think the thing that separates Nottingham from other towns is that the bar scene is hugely compact, so you don’t have to walk so far to the next place and you get pissed quicker. And if you live anywhere but Bridgford, there’s no decent locals, so if you’re in Clifton, that pub you drink at in town is your local. So you get more salt-of-the-earth types in here, and you serve the same people over and over again, even when you’ve moved to another bar. Bridgford is the new Lace Market now. You can see a migration of locals to Mansfield Road, Canning Circus, and places like that.

People assume that it’s a ball-ache working while everyone else is getting battered, but working Saturday night in a good bar is like being paid to have a night out. You’re having a laugh, making up to fifty quid in tips, getting drinks bought for you, and it’s mint. It’s a lot more fun working for an independent – chain bars are alright, but you can get weighed down by manuals that tell you how many ice cubes should be in a gin and tonic, and where the slice of lime goes.

The only advice I’d give to punters for a better night out is to tip out when you can – because ‘tips’ stand for ‘To Improve Personal Service’ - and treat us with the respect we give you. A lot of us are on minimum wage, only a few of us are on a proper salary, and all the stuff you’ve heard about massive performance bonuses is bollocks. But I’m glad I’ve done it, because the bartenders of Nottingham are some of the best people in the world. It can be a low-paid shitty job, but so are most jobs in Notts, and it pisses on working at Poundland, doesn’t it?

THE HOT DOG MAN

Peter Dixon, 23, has been manning the hot dog trailer outside Ocean since 2002.

"There’s usually four of us in the trailer, but the club shuts down in the summer when the students have gone, so it’s just me at the moment. I’m not the owner; the bloke who owns it has been working this spot for 20 years. When I first started here, Ocean was a Joe Bloggs place, and very rough. You saw all sorts – people being knocked over, fights kicking off, a police car crashing into the railings, you name it. Now it’s students only, which makes my life much easier. They’re a nicer string of people – they don’t want to fight, they’re always polite, they say ‘please’ and ‘thank you’.

My Saturday routine hardly ever changes; I roll up between half six and seven, set up, open between eight and half past, and it’s a steady flow of customers all night rather than big peaks and dips, because Ocean doesn’t open on Saturdays at all now. Friday’s the really busy night – you don’t stop all night, and it really kicks off between one and four - but Saturday’s the one night I work all year round, because it’s a nice atmosphere. I get all me regulars, a lot of people from the local bars and my mates swing by, and I enjoy it. Long hours, though – when the clubs have turned out, it should only take us an hour to clean up and go, but it never does, so I could be going home as late as six or seven.

I haven’t got a clue how much money we take on a good evening, but it’s enough – I wouldn’t be doing it otherwise. It can be a bit of a demanding job, but it’s a fun place to work. When me and my boss get going, we have a right good laugh. It’s like being on a night out, but getting paid for it. I don’t drink, anyway."

THE LIMO DRIVER

Marco Pietrantonio is the operator of Moonlight Limo Hire

I’ve been running the limos for just over a year. I worked in security for 18 years before that, driving 80 to 90,000 miles a year, and I thought that I might as well become a cabbie, but really wanted to do something more enjoyable. At present I have a stretch Lincoln Continental, a standard-sized Hummer, and a Jaguar as a bridal car. We offer a corporate service, but the vast bulk of our work is at the weekends; hen nights, birthdays, that sort of thing.

The routine hardly ever changes; I’ll pick up people round about seven or eight, either at their house or a pub, and drive them through the city for an hour before dropping them off in town. And that’s it, really. Sometimes they’ll want picking up from a club at the end of the night, but that’s quite rare – people don’t know what time they’ll want to come home or even if they are going home, after all.

Why have limos become popular in town? Because they want the star status, I suppose. Reality TV has made everything very…American. They want to act like stars for the night. And they want to be noticed. We have the TV and Playstation in the back, a few bottles of bubbly. I rarely have any trouble with clients, because everything’s booked in advance. It’s not like a taxi, when you don’t know who you’re picking up or what you’re getting into; all clients have to sign the terms and conditions, so they’re aware that if they cause any damage to the vehicle, either by doing it themselves or by shouting at people on the street and enticing them to cause damage, they get the bill.

So far, we’ve had no incidents. The only problem is that people want to hang out of the window, which isn’t allowed. The biggest hassle is being followed around by people in cars with black-ed out windows offering punters drugs at red lights. When we first started, we arranged to pick people up at the end of the night outside a club, and we were swarmed by a gang of kids when they turned the place out, so we park round the sides these days.

Working on Saturday night isn’t too bad, when you realise that you’re usually finished early. You’ve got the rest of the evening to do what you want if there’s no return journey, and it’s a laugh. The drivers - who usually work in cabs - do it because they want to.

www.moonlightlimo-hire.co.uk

THE DJs

John and Shaun are regular DJs at Chambers, amongst other places.

John: I’ve been a full-time DJ for about five years, all around the city, and it’s obvious that it’s nowhere near as busy as it used to be. Do I think we have an unfair reputation for violence in Notts? No. (laughs) The thing about this place is that people come in huge groups – stag dos, birthday parties and the like – so it depends on them. If they come from certain areas in town that we won’t mention, that’s when it gets moody. Also, you’ll have one pub in town where the trouble is, and people think that you can solve the problem by shutting it down, when all they’re doing is spreading the violence to other pubs. I can’t say I’ve seen anything in here that you wouldn’t see in other places – blokes with bloody noses, and that. Why do people get like that on Saturday night? Alcohol. People have a drink, someone bumps into someone else on the dance floor, spills their pint… Bam! And then their mates join in.

Shaun: I tell you what, though, it was a lot worse in the 80s. Without a shadow of a doubt. You could be in a club one night and easily see six or seven fights and nobody stopping them. It’s far better policed nowadays than it ever was, and the door staff are so organised these days.

John: I think the worst thing about working on a Saturday night is that it can be a detriment to your social life, in some ways. It can definitely shag up your relationships if you’re not careful. The money’s good, though; we make about £20 an hour, and we don’t have to pay a penny for the equipment - all we need to do is to sort out the MP3s. We make four times more than the bar staff, but we’re the people who make the night work. We have to set the mood throughout the night; if we play one wrong record and get the punters overexcited, the place goes up, so we have to calm ‘em down every now and again.

Shaun: The worst kind of punter is the pissed-up guy who asks for the same tune over and over again, when you played it five minutes ago. And then comes out with the classic line we’ve all heard; 'What kind of a DJ are you?'

John: But the upside is having a good night and ending up sober whilst watching people make right fucking idiots of themselves.

Shaun: Yeah, we get the last laugh, because they’re falling over looking like complete twats, and we’re going home sober with money in our pockets. They’re going home skint.

THE CABBIE

'Zar' has been a taxi driver for a local firm since 1999

Saturday nights are just mental, y'know? You come out knowing that there's a good chance you're gonna get shit off people, but also knowing it's a certainty you're gonna get a proper amount of cash out of it. You're at it from about 7pm, because a lot of people want to get into town and get stuck in without waiting for the bus, then it's non-stop until 4am. You don't have time to clock-watch.

I like the early jobs best - people are still sober, they don't piss you about, they already know how much it's gonna cost and they're in a good mood. From about ten o'clock onwards, you can feel people changing - women coming home early because they've had a row with their boyfriend, people who can't handle their drink, etc. After that, you just don't know what's going to happen - someone cussing me down because I won't let them eat food in the car, someone who wants me to take them to Forest Road or wait for them somewhere dodgy because they want coke. I really hate the ones who kick off about how much the ride cost - like, you've dashed away fifty quid on a few drinks and you're pissed off with me for getting you home safe?

Do I miss not having Saturday nights to myself? Well, put it this way; if everyone I took home were all smiling and happy, I probably would. But your lot are either too pissed to know your own name, bitching about who you're gonna beat up if you see 'em next, or just miserable. Doesn't seem like any fun to me, mate...

THE BIG SPENDER

‘Dave’ works in sales and has been drinking in town since he was 16.

I’ve not read the book, but I suppose you could call me an Arthur Seaton character, because I do live for Saturday nights. My job pays very well, especially when the commissions roll in, but I’m definitely work-to-live, not live-to-work.

On an average Saturday, I can spend up to £150. Easily. I usually start off in Bridgford late afternoon, get a bit merry, jump a cab into town, and take it from there. I wouldn’t call myself a snob, but I don’t see any point in sitting in some old-man’s pub spinning a pint out or going to some scummy bar and taking my chances with randoms just because they’re doing two-for-ones. I’ve worked my nuts off all week. I deserve a good time. I always take the money out with me – it’s way too easy to put your card behind the bar, so I don’t – and I feel like I did when I was a kid at the start of a holiday, with it just burning a hole in my pocket.

It’s not like I drink in exclusive bars; I’ll go anywhere, as long as the vibe’s right. But I’m definitely a bar-hopper, and if I’m in the Lace Market and I get a call from a mate who’s on Mansfield Road, I’ll get a cab. Fuck walking. By the end of the night, I’m either in a club, or the casino. If someone can get hold of pills or coke, I’ll chip in. If we fancy having something to eat, we’ll go somewhere proper. It all adds up, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. I’d go insane if I had to stay in on Saturday night.

Have I got a drink problem? Not at all. I’ll do the rounds in Bridgford on a Friday night, have it large on Saturday, spend most of Sunday in bed, and that’s it. I only drink on a school night when I’m meeting clients. I’m sure there are people in town getting into a far worse state than me on a quarter of my outlay, and I never cause trouble. I know my limits, both physically and financially. Is it a waste of money? Maybe to you, but not to me. I’ve had arguments with former girlfriends about it, but I point out to them that it wasn’t a problem when we were first going out and I paid for everything. I only feel a little guilty when I’ve lost big at the casino – and I’m not even going to tell you how much – but it’s my money, I’ve earned it, and I’ll do what I like with it.