no bein stuck inside jist cause ay a load ay fuckin gales. That wis what ah sais tae um: ah’m no bein stuck in here just cause ay strong winds, Jonty.
Then eh turns roond n hands ays this sortay tube thing for ays tae take oot. Ah asks um what it wis n eh tells ays it’s a distress flare eh made, fae some site oan that Internet. — Distress flare, aye, eh goes, — if ye huv tae go oot in that Bawbag!
Ah telt um thaire wis nae wey ah wis gaun oot wi that in ma bag! Blaw masel up! So ah jist went oot n left him, wi him still beggin ays tae take the daft flare. — Beat it, Jonty, ah goes, — yir really startin tae annoy me, ah telt um, n ah went n left um.
How many times have we heard that aw nonsense aboot weather before? Winds. Load ay shite. It’s eywis fuckin windy here!
Ah gits the bus doon tae Leith, the 22. The sauna’s busy. Some familiar clients. There’s a wee guy who comes in and eywis jist wants gammed. Thaire’s another regular, a bodybuilder, but wi an awfay wee cock, mibbe it’s the steroids but that’s meant tae jist shrivel the baws. He eywis wants a ride, n ye really huv tae act for him, eh looks intae yir eyes aw tense and freaky, as bad as that cunt Kelvin. An easy shift otherwise, but.
Then ah’m jist gittin washed oot when Kelvin comes in and goes, — Ah’m up next.
Thaire’s nowt ah kin dae. The mair ye dinnae want tae be wi him, the mair he gits turned on n wants tae ride ye. Then when eh starts, ye really got tae make oot like yir intae it. He can turn a sick fucker if he thinks yir repulsed by him. He wisnae that bad this time roond, though ma nipple’s really sair where eh pinched it hard. The worst is the stuff that comes oot ay his mooth. Ah hate huvin tae dae it wi um, but the money’s good here.
So ah’m gled when that’s ower, n ah put ma stuff in ma locker. Then ah goes oot intae the lounge then through reception and ootside. Ah’m heading ontae Leith Walk bound for the toon. A taxi pills up – ah nivir waved it doon – n ah see that that Terry’s in it. — Fancy a lift?
— Whaire ye gaun?
— Sighthill.
— Ah’m gaun tae Gorgie.
— It’s oan ma wey. Hop in, eh sais, then sortay smiles. — C’moan! Ah’ve no goat the meter oan!
So ah does, n wir off up intae toon.
— Listen, Terry goes, — jist say if ye think ah’m bein too forward or that, but d’ye fancy a ride?
Ah jist rolls ma eyes. — Been oan ma back aw day.
— Aye, but surely it’s different if yir intae it yirsel.
Ah dinnae ken why he didnae ask earlier. — Ye could ride us any time, back in the sauna. Ah’m sure yir oan freebies like Vic . . . n that fuckin Kelvin.
— No ma scene but, ay, he goes. — A lassie’s goat tae want it for me tae be bothered.
N as funny as it seems, ah do fancy a ride. For one thing, ah dinnae want tae huv in ma heid aw night that the last person up ays was that cunt Kelvin, even if ah wis miles away. Bit it’s funny daein this work, cause yir oan yir back right enough, but ye dinnae git intae it. In fact it kin git frustratin, cause even though yir thinkin aboot other things, ye kin sometimes end up, eftir a shift, actually wishin thit ye could git a proper ride. Cause workin disnae feel like a proper ride, but it sometimes pits ye in mind ay yin.
So ah’m lookin at this Terry, that wild, corkscrew heid. Eh’s goat that glint in ehs eye that aw shaggers huv. — Ah hear thit yir nae slouch. Well equipped in the boaby department.
— Satisfaction guaranteed, eh goes, then eh’s pullin doon a side street oaf the Gorgie Road n parks the motor up this alley.
8
RUNNING AROUND
RUNNIN ABOOT DAFT worried aboot wee Jinty, doon the stair twice, sur, aye sur, twice. Dinnae ken whaire she is. Keep tryin tae gie her a phone oan the mobile n aw, aye sur, oan the mobile.
Mobile.
Awfay feart ay the idea ay her bein stuck in this hurricane; yon Bawbag. Dinnae like hurricanes sneakin up here anywey, should be stickin tae thair ain bit, like the tropics n
Then eh turns roond n hands ays this sortay tube thing for ays tae take oot. Ah asks um what it wis n eh tells ays it’s a distress flare eh made, fae some site oan that Internet. — Distress flare, aye, eh goes, — if ye huv tae go oot in that Bawbag!
Ah telt um thaire wis nae wey ah wis gaun oot wi that in ma bag! Blaw masel up! So ah jist went oot n left him, wi him still beggin ays tae take the daft flare. — Beat it, Jonty, ah goes, — yir really startin tae annoy me, ah telt um, n ah went n left um.
How many times have we heard that aw nonsense aboot weather before? Winds. Load ay shite. It’s eywis fuckin windy here!
Ah gits the bus doon tae Leith, the 22. The sauna’s busy. Some familiar clients. There’s a wee guy who comes in and eywis jist wants gammed. Thaire’s another regular, a bodybuilder, but wi an awfay wee cock, mibbe it’s the steroids but that’s meant tae jist shrivel the baws. He eywis wants a ride, n ye really huv tae act for him, eh looks intae yir eyes aw tense and freaky, as bad as that cunt Kelvin. An easy shift otherwise, but.
Then ah’m jist gittin washed oot when Kelvin comes in and goes, — Ah’m up next.
Thaire’s nowt ah kin dae. The mair ye dinnae want tae be wi him, the mair he gits turned on n wants tae ride ye. Then when eh starts, ye really got tae make oot like yir intae it. He can turn a sick fucker if he thinks yir repulsed by him. He wisnae that bad this time roond, though ma nipple’s really sair where eh pinched it hard. The worst is the stuff that comes oot ay his mooth. Ah hate huvin tae dae it wi um, but the money’s good here.
So ah’m gled when that’s ower, n ah put ma stuff in ma locker. Then ah goes oot intae the lounge then through reception and ootside. Ah’m heading ontae Leith Walk bound for the toon. A taxi pills up – ah nivir waved it doon – n ah see that that Terry’s in it. — Fancy a lift?
— Whaire ye gaun?
— Sighthill.
— Ah’m gaun tae Gorgie.
— It’s oan ma wey. Hop in, eh sais, then sortay smiles. — C’moan! Ah’ve no goat the meter oan!
So ah does, n wir off up intae toon.
— Listen, Terry goes, — jist say if ye think ah’m bein too forward or that, but d’ye fancy a ride?
Ah jist rolls ma eyes. — Been oan ma back aw day.
— Aye, but surely it’s different if yir intae it yirsel.
Ah dinnae ken why he didnae ask earlier. — Ye could ride us any time, back in the sauna. Ah’m sure yir oan freebies like Vic . . . n that fuckin Kelvin.
— No ma scene but, ay, he goes. — A lassie’s goat tae want it for me tae be bothered.
N as funny as it seems, ah do fancy a ride. For one thing, ah dinnae want tae huv in ma heid aw night that the last person up ays was that cunt Kelvin, even if ah wis miles away. Bit it’s funny daein this work, cause yir oan yir back right enough, but ye dinnae git intae it. In fact it kin git frustratin, cause even though yir thinkin aboot other things, ye kin sometimes end up, eftir a shift, actually wishin thit ye could git a proper ride. Cause workin disnae feel like a proper ride, but it sometimes pits ye in mind ay yin.
So ah’m lookin at this Terry, that wild, corkscrew heid. Eh’s goat that glint in ehs eye that aw shaggers huv. — Ah hear thit yir nae slouch. Well equipped in the boaby department.
— Satisfaction guaranteed, eh goes, then eh’s pullin doon a side street oaf the Gorgie Road n parks the motor up this alley.
8
RUNNING AROUND
RUNNIN ABOOT DAFT worried aboot wee Jinty, doon the stair twice, sur, aye sur, twice. Dinnae ken whaire she is. Keep tryin tae gie her a phone oan the mobile n aw, aye sur, oan the mobile.
Mobile.
Awfay feart ay the idea ay her bein stuck in this hurricane; yon Bawbag. Dinnae like hurricanes sneakin up here anywey, should be stickin tae thair ain bit, like the tropics n
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