Trailer Trash Miss The Mark in Friendship, Maine
Insights from a Seasoned Bouncer at PartyDancersUSA
Working as a bouncer for PartyDancersUSA over many years has certainly provided its fair share of memorable moments. It’s important to note that living in a trailer doesn’t automatically categorize someone as ‘trash’—far from it. However, there was this one instance involving residents of a particular trailer in Friendship, Maine, that truly epitomized the stereotype of “trailer trash.” Their actions and behavior during one of our events single-handedly managed to give a whole new meaning to the term.
Decades of Parties: The Wild and the Memorable
Over nearly 27 years of providing dancers for parties, it’s fair to say we’ve seen a bit of everything. While most events have gone off without a hitch, a few have certainly gotten “a little out of hand.” There were times when a party seemed on the verge of turning sour, but thankfully, these moments often transformed into some of our greatest shows.
Problems typically arise when one overzealous guest—who’s perhaps enjoyed a bit too much of the festivities—decides to push the limits. What kind of trouble? Imagine the most outrageous antics you can think of. Usually, any necessary corrections are handled by the bouncer in extreme cases. More often, though, it’s the troublemaker’s own friends who step in, tired of their antics spoiling the fun.
A Night to Remember in Friendship, Maine
Most of the parties PartyDancersUSA does, are a blast—not just for the guests, but for the bouncers too. Then there are those nights, the “When are we getting the f**k out of here?” kind of parties. One such event that sticks out took place in a trailer in Friendship, Maine, back in 2006. The trailer was decent enough for what it was, but a few of the attendees could have been the very definition of “trailer trash.”
Unfortunately, you don’t get to run a background check when someone books a party, so you always have to be ready for anything. That night, “anything” was exactly what I encountered. It was one of those experiences that test your limits and remind you to always expect the unexpected in this line of work.
Unexpected Delights in Unlikely Places
First off, some might jump to the conclusion that hosting a party in a trailer in Friendship, Maine spells trouble. However, I want to clear the air—some of the best parties I’ve worked with PartyDancersUSA have actually been in trailers.
Let me put it into perspective: I’ve attended parties in $10 million dollar mansions that didn’t necessarily translate to great paydays or good times. On the flip side, I’ve also done shows in trailers, camps, and garages where the guests were incredibly fun and willing to spend their “weekly lunch money” just to let loose and enjoy themselves. The setting of a party often says little about the quality of the event. In this line of work, you truly never know what to expect.
A Rocky Start on a Freezing Night
The party was off to a rocky start right from the beginning. We were down a dancer—only “Heaven,” a top-notch entertainer, was available for what was supposed to be a two-dancer booking. With no time to find a replacement, we had to make do and headed out.
Arriving on a bitterly cold night, I followed protocol and went in first to ensure safety and to set expectations about our show. I scanned the room and briefed everyone, and it seemed like all was well—or so I thought. Everyone nodded in agreement, but the atmosphere felt a bit off, hinting that the night might hold more surprises than I anticipated.
Always Make Sure Your Local Trailer Trash Miss The Mark !
A Calm Before the Storm
The setup went smoothly, and the party was, at best, “okay.” There were no major problems, although it became clear that the venue really couldn’t have supported two dancers. Nonetheless, we maintained our professionalism and kept the smiles going, as is our job. As the event wound down, it was time to pack up.
Heaven had her travel bag ready and was standing about ten feet away, engaging in light chatter with some of the guests. Everything seemed normal, uneventful even. But that was about to change dramatically. Just hang on…
A Moment of Realization
In retrospect, the next day, as I pieced together the events, I remembered moving some items off the counter to set up for the show. Among those items was an iron. At the time, I had thought to myself, “Why would these guys need an iron?” I had casually moved it to another counter behind me without giving it much thought.
With the party winding down, I proceeded to pack up our equipment. Everything was bagged up except for the sound system, a Fender 250. It’s a robust unit that, when latched together, forms a portable package weighing about 90 lbs—easy enough to carry.
A Sudden Turn of Events
As I busied myself with packing up, I engaged in friendly banter, answering questions and sharing smiles with the guests. One particularly large and loud guest was standing to my immediate left, another about ten feet directly in front of me, and a third hovered over the bar sink, with Heaven positioned between them. I found myself explaining the nifty features of the Fender unit, demonstrating how it snaps together.
Bent over, snapping the last speaker into place, my back turned and head exposed, my instincts suddenly kicked into high gear. I had a fleeting premonition to speed things up, and just as I straightened up—SLAM—I felt an intense hit between my shoulder blades. The sudden force jolted through me, a clear and unexpected violation of the casual atmosphere we had just moments before.
Luckily This Night Trailer Trash Miss The Mark. Fuck You Assholes !
Quick Reflexes and Tense Confrontation
Reacting instinctively, I spun to my left, seizing and locking the arm of the man who had struck me, preventing any further surprises. My mind raced as I tried to process the unexpected blow. “What the fuck was that?” I demanded, my voice edged with confusion and anger.
He looked back at me, his expression a mix of concern and bewilderment. “Just patting you on the back for a job well done,” he claimed, attempting to diffuse the tension with a forced smile. “It’s all good, right?”
Despite his reassurances, something didn’t sit right with me. My senses were on high alert, and clarity crystallized in my mind—it was definitely time to leave. “IT’S TIME TO GO!” I announced firmly, ready to extract myself and Heaven from the increasingly uncomfortable situation.
A Swift and Decisive Exit
The look on his face was one of sheer shock—he clearly hadn’t expected me to withstand the blow, let alone retaliate. His arm initially tensed in resistance but went limp as I tightened my grip and gave it a twist. He hadn’t moved an inch since I caught him.
“I need space,” I commanded sharply, my tone brooking no argument. The others quickly parted, giving me a clear path to the door. I signaled to Heaven, “Let’s go,” ensuring she moved ahead while I kept a wary eye on the aggressor.
With Heaven safely in front of me, we made a beeline for the truck. I ushered her in first and swiftly locked her door, ensuring her safety. It took me just 15 seconds to toss all our equipment into the storage area. I then hurried to the driver’s side, jumped in, and locked the doors behind me. Now inside the truck, I had a new weapon at my disposal—”THE TRUCK” itself.
Escaping a Potential Threat
As I started the truck, Mr. Back Patter emerged from the trailer, attempting to engage in small talk. I suspected he was trying to get close enough for another attempt at whatever he had in mind, but his hesitant approach betrayed his uncertainty. Without entertaining his efforts, I quickly put the truck in reverse and started to pull away.
Part of me wanted to confront him—jump out and give this lowlife a taste of his own medicine. However, with the details of the incident still unclear and the responsibility of the dancer’s safety on my shoulders, I knew better than to escalate the situation. My years of experience had honed my instincts: it was unequivocally time to leave, no questions asked. Her safety, and our swift exit, were my only priorities.
I Ask Myself Why These Trailer Trash Miss The Mark ? Good Thing For that 6th Sense !
A Painful Discovery
The next morning, I awoke feeling like I’d been hit by a truck. After taking several Tylenol to dull the pain, I forced myself out of bed to investigate the cause of my discomfort. I pulled off my t-shirt and initially saw nothing. When I tried to turn left, I couldn’t. Turning right was just as painful, and that’s when I saw it—staring back at me in the mirror was a deep red imprint of an iron between my shoulder blades, unmistakably clear and menacingly positioned.
In that moment, it dawned on me: the “prick” had indeed tried to “take me out” using the iron as a weapon. I was incredibly lucky to have stood up so quickly after securing the Fender unit. The realization of how narrowly I had escaped more serious injury—or worse—sent a chill down my spine.
Reflecting and Moving On
I’ll never truly understand what prompted him to attack me that night, and frankly, I don’t care to delve into his motives. There was a moment when I contemplated making a tactical trip back to Friendship to confront him, to find some answers. However, after some thought, I decided against it. Instead, I chose to count myself extremely lucky to have escaped relatively unscathed.
Moving forward, my focus shifted to ensuring such an incident could and would never happen again. This experience was a stark reminder of the risks involved, and it reinforced the importance of vigilance and safety in all future engagements.
A Lingering Desire for Closure
Years have passed since that night in Friendship, but the memory of the man who “patted” me on the back with an iron hasn’t faded. I’ve often thought about how I would respond if our paths ever crossed again. Despite my readiness to confront him and perhaps return the gesture in kind, I’ve never seen him since. Do I remember what he looks like? Absolutely—his face is etched in my memory, a constant reminder of that shocking moment. The desire for some form of closure lingers, yet life moves forward, and so have I, with a vigilant eye and a keen awareness that some things may remain unresolved.
A Not-So-Surprising Revelation
As it turns out, the man who used the iron as a ‘pat-on-the-back’ is no stranger to trouble; he’s had his share of run-ins with the law. Hopefully, his fisherman friends will tire of his antics and, metaphorically speaking, help him ‘overboard.’ We did manage to find out who he is, and there’s a good chance he might already be back behind bars, perhaps finding less desirable company in state-provided accommodations.
Enhanced Safety Measures at PartyDancersUSA
As you can see, being a bouncer in this industry, you definitely earn your keep. That eventful evening was a turning point for us at PartyDancersUSA. In response, we revised our operating policies to enhance safety. Now, we specify a minimum number of customers that must be present at every show, and we no longer offer shows with just one dancer. These changes have significantly improved safety across all our events, making them safer for everyone involved.
We strongly encourage other agencies to adopt similar practices. At PartyDancersUSA, ensuring the safety of our dancers is our top priority, and I’m proud to say that we haven’t had a single dancer injury in over 27 years. Safety isn’t just part of the job—it is the job.
A Narrow Escape in Friendship, Maine
What the intentions of that lowlife were on that dark, cold evening in Friendship, Maine will remain unknown. Fortunately, due to quick thinking and a bit of luck, “Trailer Trash Missed the Mark.” My dancer and I escaped a potentially dangerous situation, leaving behind only the chilling memory of what could have been.
