Hamish McShanks

Hamish McShanks Secret Diary w/e 26th September 2004

‘One scoop of chocolate, two of fudge, one of mint choc chip, another two of peanut butter and fresh cream topping please …… oh and a flake ….. and a diet coke’ The spotty youth gave me a look that only teenagers can, then commenced digging for chocolate. He was on the fourth scoop when I felt a tap on my shoulder, I turned to face a rather attractive brunette. She was smiling nervously and I must admit I thought - I’m in here! ‘Are you the real radio fugitive?’, ‘What?’ her smile immediately disappeared and she stomped off as quickly as she had arrived.

I stared at her vanishing back ‘What the fu-…’, ‘Seven pound fifty please sir’, ‘Hmmm?’, ‘Seven fifty for your bucket of ice cream’, ‘Oh yes, sorry …’ his sarcastic tone hadn’t escaped me and I felt compelled to respond. I gathered my change up deposited it in my pocket then theatrically slapped my head ‘Oh, I nearly forgot here’s your tip’ I tapped all my pockets in exaggerated fashion before pulling my hand from inside my jacket pocket and making what can safely be regarded as a universal gesture of displeasure. I further intimated that should he desire he might like to rotate on said digit.

Other than my ice cream mega bucket the shopping wasn’t going well, I was trying to find a wedding present but was lacking inspiration. What do you get the couple that have everything? ‘Nothing’ seemed to be the answer. I was studying a very ugly and hugely overpriced 18-piece tartan tea set when I received another tap on the shoulder. This time it was a Hispanic looking woman ‘scuse me are’a you thee Reeela Radio fugateeeeve’ (turns out she was Italian) ‘No I’m not what the ..’ she was gone.

This theme continued on my journey round the centre and by the fourteenth time I was getting rather fed up. I took refuge in Debenhams coffee shop, sitting down with a large cappuccino and an almond biscuit. It’s always the innocent that suffer they say, in this case the collateral damage was a man in his mid thirties who tapped me on the shoulder as I was about to take my first sip ‘Excuse me pal…ooomppff’ I got my retaliation in first. With the benefit of hindsight going for the ‘nuclear’ option straight away was possibly a tad premature (he only wanted me to pass the sugar)

My pre-emptive strike proved to be an even bigger disaster when the three previously hidden ‘gentlemen’ that had been sharing his booth stood up to see who had deigned to disturb them at their meal. It was at this point I decided that being a fugitive wasn’t such a bad idea after all ………

So no wedding present for the happy couple but I wasn’t going to let the small matter of no gift prevent me from attending the actual day, I’d think of some plausible excuse ………

The wedding was very nice (according to the girls that were there – I’m a man, so no point in asking me, I couldnay tell the difference between shite and shinola) There was one minor glitch for the godless people at the service (of which I am most certainly one) The lyrics to the two Hymns were printed on a separate piece of paper from the order of service. I was half way through the second verse before someone pointed out I was supposed to be singing the ‘other’ hymn …… ooops

Nice quick job though, in and oot in half an hour, it would have been nice to have a dramatic service, you know somebody shouting ‘STOP!’ when the padre says ‘does anyone here have just cause..’ but I was told I would be having my testicles on a platter if I so much as breathed at that point. She needn’t have worried, apparently being a closet ginger isn’t grounds to stop a wedding ……….

The reception was in a rather plush Hotel in Alloa, a secluded wee place in amongst some trees, very nice indeed. The Bride and Groom were greeting everyone as they arrived and I patiently waited my turn. I had the opportunity to survey the brides dress whilst waiting and it was indeed a beautiful ivory number with traditional sparkly bits silky veil and long train that the girlies seem to like.

You’ll be pleased to know I refrained from mentioning anything about the colour, like say ‘You’ve gorra cheek wearing white haven’t you’ as I felt this would be in poor taste so instead I plumped for ‘Jings Ginge yer chebs are looking sparkly luv..ooompff’ She’s got quite a right hook on her, I think the kicks to the kidneys were below the belt though and the stiletto heel in my lovespuds most definitely was.

Once they pulled her off me I stumbled off to the bar with ‘Baaaaastaaaaaarrrrd’ ringing in my ears, they do say weddings are stressful occasions so I can forgive her this once. Better put some antiseptic on I thought ‘Large whisky please’ I headed off to the toilets to dress my wounds as best I could. Cheap whisky and broken skin do not however ‘go’ together, it took three waiters and the night porter to peel me off the ceiling.

By this time the meal was being served. I have to say it was exceptional and my previous slip of the tongue appeared forgotten. I even managed to negotiate all the cutlery without incident (outside in – it’s easy really …. When you watch grown ups) The dessert was superb, a lemon terrine with raspberry syrup all served in a chocolate cup. A crisp chocolate cup, a hard, brittle, crispy chocolate cup … I like chocolate … My spoon dug into the thick chocolate base, I pressed a little harder … little more .. just a little more. I could feel the chocolate giving under the pressure … gently does it … gently … cachuuuung! It exploded like a chocolate hand grenade.

It all happened in slow motion, a second seemed to last an eternity. Chocolate shards flew past my eyes, raspberry sauce was launched skywards and lemon fragments spattered the table. When the explosion subsided I looked down at my shirt, not a single stain, not a mark, what a relief……’Christ that was a close one…’ I noticed that the hubbub in the room had died down and there was total silence, you could hear a pin drop. I looked up and everyone in the room was staring at me ‘What?’ their gazes turned to the top table. With mounting horror I turned round and surveyed my worst nightmare a ‘raspberry ripple’ bride …… ‘Oh fu…..’

The groom and best man were already rolling up their sleeves as I felt the strong hands of the ushers lift me from my chair…….. at least I don’t have to worry about getting a present now

Doei