Lies.
Security guards - bad experience
- Thread starter Gary195
- Start date
Don’t really care if you believe me or not, just stating what happened
New accounts often travel to OCUK GD to post a wild story and absolutely nothing else.
Because of course that's what you do when you're a completely new account.
the police wouldn't have dismissed the 'fact' you were locked in a basement for over 2hrs so stop lying.
I went to the store to get more
Fire... to start the war
Everybody in this club is whack
I feel like I'm headed straight for a heart attack
Girls are pretty
Girls are nice
Take your chances
Roll the dice
Take your chances...
It would be awesome
If we could dance
It would be awesome, yeah
Let's take the chance
It would be awesome, yeah
Let's start the show
Because you never know
You never know
You never know until you go
Fire... to start the war
Everybody in this club is whack
I feel like I'm headed straight for a heart attack
Girls are pretty
Girls are nice
Take your chances
Roll the dice
Take your chances...
It would be awesome
If we could dance
It would be awesome, yeah
Let's take the chance
It would be awesome, yeah
Let's start the show
Because you never know
You never know
You never know until you go
Soldato
- Joined
- 19 Oct 2007
- Posts
- 3,727
- Location
- Delete *.*
Here's my A.I created basement story, which is more realistic?
The bass thrummed through the floor, a dull vibration against my cheek. I blinked, my head throbbing, and tried to focus. Rough concrete pressed against my back, and the air was thick with the stale scent of beer and damp. Panic clawed at my throat. I was in a basement.
The last thing I remembered was the flashing lights of the dance floor, the press of bodies, and then… nothing.
Had I blacked out? I tried to sit up, but a wave of dizziness forced me back down.
A single, bare bulb cast long, distorted shadows across the room, illuminating stacked crates of what looked like empty liquor bottles.
“Hello?” My voice was hoarse, barely a whisper.
Silence. Only the distant, muffled music and the hum of some unseen machinery answered.
I scrambled to my feet, my legs unsteady. The basement was small, a cramped rectangle with cinderblock walls. A single, heavy metal door, reinforced with a thick, industrial-looking lock, was my only exit. I rattled the handle, then pounded on the door, shouting. “Hey! Let me out! Is anyone there?”
No response.
Fear tightened its grip. How long had I been down here? Why? I remembered a brief, unpleasant encounter with a couple of bouncers near the bar. They’d been large, imposing figures, their faces hard and unreadable. Had they… had they done this?
I searched the basement, hoping for a window, a secondary exit, anything. Nothing. Just the crates, a rusted metal shelving unit, and a small, flickering fluorescent light fixture overhead.
My phone. I fumbled in my pocket, my fingers trembling. Dead. No signal. Of course.
The music pulsed, a relentless, distant beat. I imagined the crowd upstairs, oblivious to my predicament. Were they even looking for me? Would anyone notice I was gone?
A cold dread settled over me. I sank to the floor, my back against the cold concrete. The air grew heavier, the silence more oppressive. I tried to think rationally. Had I done something to provoke them? An accidental bump, a spilled drink? It seemed so disproportionate.
Time stretched, distorted. The music became a constant, maddening drone. I imagined the bar closing, the staff leaving, the building locking up for the night. The thought of being trapped down here, alone, until morning sent a shiver down my spine.
Then, a sound. A metallic click. The lock on the door turned.
Light flooded the basement, blinding me. Two figures stood silhouetted in the doorway. The bouncers.
“Finally,” one of them said, his voice flat. “We were wondering when you’d wake up.”
“Why?” I croaked, my voice raw. “Why did you lock me down here?”
The other bouncer stepped forward, his face hard. “You were causing trouble. Disrupting the other patrons. We decided to let you cool off.”
"Cool off? You locked me in a basement!"
"Consider it a time out," the first bouncer said. "Now, get out of here. And don't come back."
They stood aside, their expressions implacable. I stumbled past them, my legs weak, my mind reeling. The music was deafening now, the flashing lights disorienting. I pushed through the crowd, my eyes searching for a familiar face, a sign of help.
But I was alone. I walked out into the cold night air, the bar's music fading behind me, the cold, hard, concrete of the basement still a vivid memory.
The bass thrummed through the floor, a dull vibration against my cheek. I blinked, my head throbbing, and tried to focus. Rough concrete pressed against my back, and the air was thick with the stale scent of beer and damp. Panic clawed at my throat. I was in a basement.
The last thing I remembered was the flashing lights of the dance floor, the press of bodies, and then… nothing.
Had I blacked out? I tried to sit up, but a wave of dizziness forced me back down.
A single, bare bulb cast long, distorted shadows across the room, illuminating stacked crates of what looked like empty liquor bottles.
“Hello?” My voice was hoarse, barely a whisper.
Silence. Only the distant, muffled music and the hum of some unseen machinery answered.
I scrambled to my feet, my legs unsteady. The basement was small, a cramped rectangle with cinderblock walls. A single, heavy metal door, reinforced with a thick, industrial-looking lock, was my only exit. I rattled the handle, then pounded on the door, shouting. “Hey! Let me out! Is anyone there?”
No response.
Fear tightened its grip. How long had I been down here? Why? I remembered a brief, unpleasant encounter with a couple of bouncers near the bar. They’d been large, imposing figures, their faces hard and unreadable. Had they… had they done this?
I searched the basement, hoping for a window, a secondary exit, anything. Nothing. Just the crates, a rusted metal shelving unit, and a small, flickering fluorescent light fixture overhead.
My phone. I fumbled in my pocket, my fingers trembling. Dead. No signal. Of course.
The music pulsed, a relentless, distant beat. I imagined the crowd upstairs, oblivious to my predicament. Were they even looking for me? Would anyone notice I was gone?
A cold dread settled over me. I sank to the floor, my back against the cold concrete. The air grew heavier, the silence more oppressive. I tried to think rationally. Had I done something to provoke them? An accidental bump, a spilled drink? It seemed so disproportionate.
Time stretched, distorted. The music became a constant, maddening drone. I imagined the bar closing, the staff leaving, the building locking up for the night. The thought of being trapped down here, alone, until morning sent a shiver down my spine.
Then, a sound. A metallic click. The lock on the door turned.
Light flooded the basement, blinding me. Two figures stood silhouetted in the doorway. The bouncers.
“Finally,” one of them said, his voice flat. “We were wondering when you’d wake up.”
“Why?” I croaked, my voice raw. “Why did you lock me down here?”
The other bouncer stepped forward, his face hard. “You were causing trouble. Disrupting the other patrons. We decided to let you cool off.”
"Cool off? You locked me in a basement!"
"Consider it a time out," the first bouncer said. "Now, get out of here. And don't come back."
They stood aside, their expressions implacable. I stumbled past them, my legs weak, my mind reeling. The music was deafening now, the flashing lights disorienting. I pushed through the crowd, my eyes searching for a familiar face, a sign of help.
But I was alone. I walked out into the cold night air, the bar's music fading behind me, the cold, hard, concrete of the basement still a vivid memory.
Are you saying the police are wrong then and I should put a complaint in about the police
The police told me that they have the right to hold someone until the police have been called if the club believe police are needed and there saying they had two people come forward and were concerned about a domestic issue
Are the saying the police aren’t telling me the right information?
The apologised for being so long but said they were at a higher up case before mine
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go have a quick google on what bouncers can and can't do, especially in relation to the Ask for Angela report. then decide for yourself if you want to pursue it further.
he's suggesting someone made a false Ask for Angela report against him in the hope that security removed him from the scene and left his wife unattended allowing 'them' unfettered access to have coitus with her.
They are wrong about several things they have told you.
Do report the bouncers to the SIA.
Not sure they are right about the subject access request - put it in writing to the club then pass it on to ICO if they refuse.
You mean you didn’t lock people in dungeon basements of an evening. Did you even bounce Sir?
I spent many a night slinging drunken couples into basements and having 1/4 of my door staff watch them all evening…
Glad I’m out of it now, camera phones ruined the enjoyment.
Well there was that one club I worked at with a dunge...basement but what happened in there stayed in there.
100% this. No bouncer is going to lock someone and their wife up in separate rooms for over 2hrs. At most, they’ll remove the potential offender to the nearest exit and detain them there until plod arrives or as you say, just turf em out on to the street.
