Ok - the usual 'slash and burn' if I might be allowed.
It's not easy being a Night-Club bouncer. It's not that glamorous at all.
Two statements that suggest there's a link - but 'easy' and 'glamorous' are not the same. If your second sentence had been 'It's not that easy at all the pairing might have made more sense.
Perhaps you can change the second to 'It's not that glamorous either.'
See what I mean?
But when you're in your early twenties like I was at the time, You're getting too close to the reader again - bad habit I was in my early twenties everything seemed easy, including the lasses. Women threw themselves at me, and I put up no resistance. I'm not naieve naive enough(?) to think I was the sole fascination Bit awkward I was irresistible (?). I think it could've possibly been the free admission to the club that may might have been part of the attraction. Who am I kidding? It was the main reason only attraction.
On a monday night which is usually Stripper-and-Stag-Nights, a strange thing happened to me that at any other time I would've said "No Way!"
Why do we need this prologue? If something happened why not just get on with telling us what it was? And opening with 'On a Monday night' suggests this 'strange thing' happened every Monday.
Most of the people who came to those shows are 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 the car-park underneath the club. Because of the rabbit-warren of lanes down there 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 because they have school or college in the morning. This is what I thought the noise appeared to be.
Sorry - but most of this paragraph is back-story that has nothing to do with what follows. I think the 'boy-racers' can be introduced much more concisely as an excuse for you to go investigating.
Something like. . .
Monday nights were usually Stripper-and-Stag-Nights and the club normally filled up by eight o'clock. So when I heard the screech of tyres from the car-park beneath the club I assumed it was some boy-racer taking his dad's car for a spin before bed time.
But as I turned from the open Club door a Ford Capri went cruising slowly by and parked a few bays away from the entrance. It had a sound all of its own. More like a vibration than a sound. A young feller nonchalantly got out of the car. It ticked as it started to cool, and looking about him like he was checking everything out, is he nonchalant or furtive? he locked it and walked towards me. It's a heck of a long sentence describing someone getting out of a car! He had an air about him that didn't seem like swagger, but something else I couldn't quite put my finger on? Now i don't want you to get the wrong idea or anything? I'm not gay or owt. Authorial intrusion - why are you telling us this, and why would anyone care? I can just see when something or someone is beautiful, and this guy was.
He had this look about him you only ever see on the telly or in the movies. Tanned, chiselled- complexion, nice dresser, and a confidence that just seemed to ooze from his pores. All this I observed as he He strode confidently through the foyer up to where we all stood. Until I re-read this I thought you were still down in the subterranean car park. See how that boy-racer paragraph almost messed up the plot? 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. Not sure we need the last 3 words but. . . Probably some of the best writing you've graced these pages with so far! Showing (gasp) rather than Telling! I think at this point I briefly fell in love.
This definitely gets better as it goes along. Just a case of chipping away at the irrelevancies and uncovering the guts of the story underneath.
H3K
