It's not easy being a Night-Club bouncer. It's not that glamorous either.
But in my early twenties everything seemed easy, including the lasses. Women threw themselves at me, and I put up no resistance. I'm not naive enough to think I was irresistible. I think it could've possibly been the free admission to the club that might have been part of the attraction. Who am I kidding? It was probably the only attraction.
Monday nights were Stripper-and-Stag-Nights, Most of the people who came to those shows were usually all in by eight pm. As the last few slightly-worse-for-wear patrons staggered in, I heard a screech of tyres coming from underneath the club. There's a rabbit-warren of lanes down below in the old car park, and we'd get the odd visit from the local boy-racers, throwing Dads car about as if they were on some imaginary race-circuit, but having to get home by nine pm curfew, ready for school or college in the morning. This is what I thought the noise appeared to be.
I felt duty-bound to go and take a look but as I was about to leave, muttering under my breath,
why-do-we-get-all-the-shitty-jobs? a bright yellow Ford Capri emerged from the shadows and chugged by the door at the bottom of the stairs, cruising slowly by, swung round and parked a few bays away from the entrance. It had a sound all of its own. More like a vibration than a sound. The kind of noise you 'feel' before you hear. A young feller nonchalantly got out of the car, leaning, with one arm draped over the hood as he reached down and locked it. It ticked as it started to cool. He looked about him, like he was checking things out, almost drinking in the sights and sounds as if he'd never seen them before. The Town-Hall Clock in the distance, brightly lit-up and shining in the cool clear night sky. The environs of the club, looming in the shadows above his head, the hamburger stand in the little street opposite the club, its tantalising smells making my mouth water already.
Roll on breaktime, burger,onions and lashings of tommy sauce!. He finished the inspection of his surroundings and started walking towards me. He had an air about him that didn't seem like swagger, but something else? Something I couldn't quite put my finger on? Then I had it. He was gorgeous! I remember thinking.
Gawd! I'm turning gay! He had a look about him you only ever see on the telly or in the movies. Tanned, chiselled-complexion, nice dresser, and a confidence that seemed to ooze from his pores. All this I observed as He climbed confidently up the short flight of stairs, through the foyer past myself and the other people milling about, paid his money and entered the club. I enjoyed the simple almost voyeristic act of watching him walk. I wish I had a gait like that. I take little steps, like taking little timid bites out of my surroundings. He, on the other hand greedily took huge mouthfuls of the world, taking giant strides.
Is that too descriptive or wordy? I put the dialogue in to try it out. Any good, or not needed here? I need your advice as well. The part where he's describing what he's seeing, the Town Hall Clock bit. Is there a better way to descibe this? I've seen a few posters using "-" a lot to kind of extend a sentence in this way. Would that work do you think? Or is there a better way? I pared in places. Then found other trimmings and additions.
