I found out my favorite door guy Jerry at one of my favorite bars in LA (The Frolic Room) was murdered by a drunk patron a couple of years ago; the murderer came in as the bar was closing up after a slow night and smashed a beer bottle on the back of his head with as much force as a three-story fall and left Jerry to die by the ice machine. He was in a coma for ten days and then was pulled off of life support. I went to The Frolic Room last time I was in LA, last year, and wondered where he’d gone. I thought he’d just changed jobs.
He was a really charming guy. Always had great dark jokes; the guy had an almost John Cusack in Grosse Pointe Blank thing about him. He told me how to hack their (old) jukebox and play free songs all night, and he held his own against a black-out drunk Keifer Sutherland this one time I was there. He was a really cool person to talk to. I talked to him many times outside that little bar about all sorts of things; he was a genuine guy and a real raconteur. You’re missed, Jerry.