Another odd night for the doorman. The club was the location for a company holiday party—a thriving IT company with its well over 100 employees sardined into our club. My role: Look the part of the doorman as company people left and non-company customers entered. I had time to observe the dynamics of this company populated by computer savants. I resisted the urge to yell, “I have an algorithmically unsolvable problem, can anyone help?!” Instead I watched the dynamics of a young woman totally enamoured with her guy friend. She was attempting to tractor-beam him into her love stare. He nervously tried to comply. She looked quite sweet, doe-eyed, and alluring. Another woman with ooh-lah-lah cleavage flaunted from guy to guy who, each in turn, were politely reserved. It took a bit before it became apparent that she was the girlfriend of one of the company owners. She clearly had a license to flirt, while the guys knew where the line was. The rest of the company crowd enjoyed themselves. It was clear they felt comfortable with each other. When the band started up a couple of hours into the party, I was afraid the company workers would disperse, but was happy to see them settle in. As each left, I thanked them and urged them to come back. Most, being socially shy, either looked down or at the door as they scuttled out. A brave one or two might actually return.
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