Sunday, October 10, 2004
Hamish McShanks Secret Diary - Part 13
Hamish McShanks Secret Diary w/e 10th October 2004
‘Left here’, ‘where?’, ‘here here HERE’, ‘Oh you mean there’, ‘Forfffu… ok ok it’s not a problem we can take the next left’, ‘this one coming up?’, ‘Aye’, ‘Bath Street’, ‘Yes’, ‘okey dokey…’, ‘what the feck are ye doing were going to miss it’, ‘Patience patience, it’s safety first ….. mirror ……signal ‘Ye’ve passed it ye fecking eedjit!’, ‘..manoeuvre’, ‘Oh great now were on Sauchiehall street, stop the car!’, ‘Why?’, ‘It’s a safety issue….’ I pulled over to the side of the road ‘What’s the problem?’, ‘I didn’t want you to lose control of the vehicle’, ‘but I’m not going tooommpfff’ It appeared it was my turn to navigate
After a whirlwind journey through the centre of the city we eventually parked up on University avenue ‘Right lets go were running late …’ I remained in my seat ‘C’mon c’mon we’ve got to go’ I stared sullenly at the vanity mirror and continued dabbing a tissue on my bloody nose ‘Doo didn’t need do hit me..’, ‘Ach dry yer eyes and get yer jacket’ ever the sympathetic one my brother. But bloods thicker that water as they say and I’ve always said he was quite thick….
The pub was fairly quiet when we arrived, the usual mixture of crumbly old men with more hats than teeth and pre pubescent students who think they’ve broken new barriers by dying their hair blue and piercing some appendage or flap of skin. Tattoos aren’t adventurous enough these days you see, you need to ‘find the edge’ and piercing is just ‘way out there’. Haaa a brain piercing is what they need, nice 6 inch nail through their frontal lobe would sort out their hash. They do say you get more right wing as you grow older but I can’t see it myself.
Certainly the bar staff are looking younger than I remember. I made a tiny error when ordering the drinks ‘Hello toots can you pop through the back and ask your dad if he can pour me a pintooomppff’ turns out she was twenty one and west of Scotland karate champion. Although I don’t think a blow to the side of the face with a tennents tray is technically karate ‘anything else Grandad?’ she enquired I pulled myself off the floor ‘no that’s fine thanks, thanks very much, thanks’.
Fraz was sitting at a table rolling a cigarette ‘What took ye so long flash? Checking yer mirror were ye’, ‘Ha ha ha, they had to change a barrel’ his gaze fell on my reddening cheek ‘Use your face to change it did they?’ I gave him a warning glare and headed off to the toilets to examine my bruised face.
When I returned a few of his work colleagues had arrived. Well to be technically correct they were his ex-work colleagues as this was his leaving do. And being the nice brother I am I’d offered to drive him home to save him some money. If I’d known I was going to get a bloody nose and a fractured cheekbone out of it I may have been a tad more reticent in offering my services.
The pub was filling up quickly and our group was expanding at an even faster rate. Our original two tables and eight seats had multiplied exponentially and we were now engulfing nearby patrons. An elderly couple who had come in for a quiet drink and a chat found themselves right ‘in the body of the Kirk’ the pool table was soon assimilated into the collective and it was only a matter of time before we swallowed up the bar (in all senses)
Time wore on and the raft of drinks sitting in front of Fraz grew inexorably, Guinness and whisky stretched out towards the horizon and numerous ‘shooters’ were lined up for his consumption. Despite his sterling efforts to drink his way out of trouble, he was fading fast and hardly putting a dent in this forest of booze.
The bell rang out for last orders and everyone rushed to buy Fraz another drink. I was standing at the bar drinking a mineral water as he fixed a forlorn bloodshot eye on me and silently mouthed ‘save me’. It was a sorry sight and despite the fact he’d sconed my on the hooter just a few hours earlier he was still my twin brother ….. so I bought him large malt. ‘There ye are twinny’ he looked at me with pleading eyes and I cracked ‘Sorry bruv’ I leaned over to the barman and asked him to make it a triple ….
It took some time for us to leave the pub, partly due to the long goodbyes from all his work mates, shaking of hands, slapping of backs, hugs and kisses and partly because he was absolutely reeking. I patiently stood with his jacket as he slurred ‘ahl keep in touch hic .. no no no … ah will’, ‘yoormaffnnbestpal’ for the umpteenth time and stotted around the pub like a pinball wizard.
We eventually managed to get out the door and headed back to the car. Fraz seemed to be walking on some invisible gradient that I wasn’t privy to. He would alternate between accelerating madly and grinding to a sudden swaying halt. Despite emptying his bladder before we left an emergency pit stop was soon required. Fortuitously there were some nearby building works and large scaffolding provided adequate cover for his comfort break.
I stood at lookout as he leaned against the scaffolding and wrestled with his zip. Luckily the road was fairly quiet and I soon heard the familiar spatter of liquid on tarmac (accompanied by a very relieved sigh) Sadly this was rather swiftly followed by an elongated scuffling scrabbling noise, a groan and an abrupt thump. I turned to see my bruv lying on his back doing an extremely poor impression of an ornamental fountain ‘Oh for chri…’ On the plus side we’d taken his car so I was less concerned about the upholstery.
We managed to avoid further incident on the journey home. Frazers flat however is on the third floor and he had a little trouble negotiating the stairs. He did apply safe mountaineering techniques by ensuring he always had three points of contact with the climbing surface. Regrettably the three points of contact he chose were his left nostril his right nostril and both front teeth. After the second floor I slung him over my shoulder and carried him the rest of the way ‘Cheers bruv hic .. yourafffndiamond’ he slurred before wet dashing the back of my jacket with partially digested kebab.
I turfed the burbling idiot on to his bed and fetched a bucket ‘Alright twinny?’, ‘mmm smbbnnfggggnnnn’, ‘Ok… night night then’, ‘gnfaabbbllllmm mmm’
So all in all a successful evening, Fraz is never going to drink again and I’ll never be able to look at the Trevi fountain in the same light either …..
Doei
‘Left here’, ‘where?’, ‘here here HERE’, ‘Oh you mean there’, ‘Forfffu… ok ok it’s not a problem we can take the next left’, ‘this one coming up?’, ‘Aye’, ‘Bath Street’, ‘Yes’, ‘okey dokey…’, ‘what the feck are ye doing were going to miss it’, ‘Patience patience, it’s safety first ….. mirror ……signal ‘Ye’ve passed it ye fecking eedjit!’, ‘..manoeuvre’, ‘Oh great now were on Sauchiehall street, stop the car!’, ‘Why?’, ‘It’s a safety issue….’ I pulled over to the side of the road ‘What’s the problem?’, ‘I didn’t want you to lose control of the vehicle’, ‘but I’m not going tooommpfff’ It appeared it was my turn to navigate
After a whirlwind journey through the centre of the city we eventually parked up on University avenue ‘Right lets go were running late …’ I remained in my seat ‘C’mon c’mon we’ve got to go’ I stared sullenly at the vanity mirror and continued dabbing a tissue on my bloody nose ‘Doo didn’t need do hit me..’, ‘Ach dry yer eyes and get yer jacket’ ever the sympathetic one my brother. But bloods thicker that water as they say and I’ve always said he was quite thick….
The pub was fairly quiet when we arrived, the usual mixture of crumbly old men with more hats than teeth and pre pubescent students who think they’ve broken new barriers by dying their hair blue and piercing some appendage or flap of skin. Tattoos aren’t adventurous enough these days you see, you need to ‘find the edge’ and piercing is just ‘way out there’. Haaa a brain piercing is what they need, nice 6 inch nail through their frontal lobe would sort out their hash. They do say you get more right wing as you grow older but I can’t see it myself.
Certainly the bar staff are looking younger than I remember. I made a tiny error when ordering the drinks ‘Hello toots can you pop through the back and ask your dad if he can pour me a pintooomppff’ turns out she was twenty one and west of Scotland karate champion. Although I don’t think a blow to the side of the face with a tennents tray is technically karate ‘anything else Grandad?’ she enquired I pulled myself off the floor ‘no that’s fine thanks, thanks very much, thanks’.
Fraz was sitting at a table rolling a cigarette ‘What took ye so long flash? Checking yer mirror were ye’, ‘Ha ha ha, they had to change a barrel’ his gaze fell on my reddening cheek ‘Use your face to change it did they?’ I gave him a warning glare and headed off to the toilets to examine my bruised face.
When I returned a few of his work colleagues had arrived. Well to be technically correct they were his ex-work colleagues as this was his leaving do. And being the nice brother I am I’d offered to drive him home to save him some money. If I’d known I was going to get a bloody nose and a fractured cheekbone out of it I may have been a tad more reticent in offering my services.
The pub was filling up quickly and our group was expanding at an even faster rate. Our original two tables and eight seats had multiplied exponentially and we were now engulfing nearby patrons. An elderly couple who had come in for a quiet drink and a chat found themselves right ‘in the body of the Kirk’ the pool table was soon assimilated into the collective and it was only a matter of time before we swallowed up the bar (in all senses)
Time wore on and the raft of drinks sitting in front of Fraz grew inexorably, Guinness and whisky stretched out towards the horizon and numerous ‘shooters’ were lined up for his consumption. Despite his sterling efforts to drink his way out of trouble, he was fading fast and hardly putting a dent in this forest of booze.
The bell rang out for last orders and everyone rushed to buy Fraz another drink. I was standing at the bar drinking a mineral water as he fixed a forlorn bloodshot eye on me and silently mouthed ‘save me’. It was a sorry sight and despite the fact he’d sconed my on the hooter just a few hours earlier he was still my twin brother ….. so I bought him large malt. ‘There ye are twinny’ he looked at me with pleading eyes and I cracked ‘Sorry bruv’ I leaned over to the barman and asked him to make it a triple ….
It took some time for us to leave the pub, partly due to the long goodbyes from all his work mates, shaking of hands, slapping of backs, hugs and kisses and partly because he was absolutely reeking. I patiently stood with his jacket as he slurred ‘ahl keep in touch hic .. no no no … ah will’, ‘yoormaffnnbestpal’ for the umpteenth time and stotted around the pub like a pinball wizard.
We eventually managed to get out the door and headed back to the car. Fraz seemed to be walking on some invisible gradient that I wasn’t privy to. He would alternate between accelerating madly and grinding to a sudden swaying halt. Despite emptying his bladder before we left an emergency pit stop was soon required. Fortuitously there were some nearby building works and large scaffolding provided adequate cover for his comfort break.
I stood at lookout as he leaned against the scaffolding and wrestled with his zip. Luckily the road was fairly quiet and I soon heard the familiar spatter of liquid on tarmac (accompanied by a very relieved sigh) Sadly this was rather swiftly followed by an elongated scuffling scrabbling noise, a groan and an abrupt thump. I turned to see my bruv lying on his back doing an extremely poor impression of an ornamental fountain ‘Oh for chri…’ On the plus side we’d taken his car so I was less concerned about the upholstery.
We managed to avoid further incident on the journey home. Frazers flat however is on the third floor and he had a little trouble negotiating the stairs. He did apply safe mountaineering techniques by ensuring he always had three points of contact with the climbing surface. Regrettably the three points of contact he chose were his left nostril his right nostril and both front teeth. After the second floor I slung him over my shoulder and carried him the rest of the way ‘Cheers bruv hic .. yourafffndiamond’ he slurred before wet dashing the back of my jacket with partially digested kebab.
I turfed the burbling idiot on to his bed and fetched a bucket ‘Alright twinny?’, ‘mmm smbbnnfggggnnnn’, ‘Ok… night night then’, ‘gnfaabbbllllmm mmm’
So all in all a successful evening, Fraz is never going to drink again and I’ll never be able to look at the Trevi fountain in the same light either …..
Doei
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