Hamish McShanks

Hamish McShanks Secret Diary w/e 16^th Jan 2005

A cloud of blue smoke enveloped the car and I shuddered to a stop. The vehicle behind, caught unawares by my rapid deceleration, was forced to swerve round the back of my car and shoot past in the bus lane. I glanced out the passenger window to see an extremely angry and red-faced man violently shaking his fist at me and shouting something about me resembling the vista between a naked woman’s legs. Apparently a useless vista at that. Unperturbed at his vitriolic outburst my eyes were drawn to the sign again ‘All you can eat for £5.95’

I parked the car up in a convenient disabled parking lot and rushed in. ‘Good afternoon Sir-‘, ‘All you can eat for six quid then?’, ‘Yes sir we have-‘, ‘Where?’, ‘Well if sir would like to give me his jacke-‘, ‘Where?’, ‘Would you like smoking or non sm-‘, ‘WHERE?’ The poor man sighed and pointed at a large table, groaning with food. He was a bit short with me but I think he must have had some staffing problems on his mind. He was muttering something about greedy fat bar stewards as I sprinted towards the buffet knocking pushchairs out of the way.

The plates were quite small, obviously designed to make people think they were having more than they actually were. Ha! I wasn’t going to fall for that old chestnut. First thing I did was build a wall of spare ribs round the edge of the plate, I further strengthened the construction with an inner circle of chicken legs before lining the base with slices of honey glazed ham ‘Okay now were ready’. My new expanded plate balanced in the crook of my arm I set off along the pasta ‘trail’. I had a 5.5k cross country race to run that afternoon so I had to carb up.

I spent a few minutes perusing the selection of pastas ‘Hmmm a little more spaghetti I think, some conchiglie, touch of cannelloni, a smidgen of ravioli, a wee bit fusilli, 2lbs of roast beef and half a dozen langoustines’, well you cant have pasta on it’s own, that would be too bland. I settled down to my feast as the waitress glared at me ‘Dry yer eyes lassy, if ye cannay hack it take yer sign doon!’ A slight miscalculation to slag off the waiting staff before I got my mineral water. I’ve never seen green mineral water before, and I was always under the impression that it shouldn’t have ‘bits’ floating in it either.

An hour later I was ushered out the front door. I say ‘ushered’ when of course I mean ‘thrown’. There’s just now way to keep your dignity when your having a chicken wing prised out of your fingers whilst three waiters try to wrench your greasy hand from the door handle then heave you down the front steps ‘Your no getting a fecking tip’ I roared whilst rolling towards the main road. Thankfully a wheelie bin broke my fall and prevented me from tumbling in front of the No10 bus. I picked myself up and dusted a few crustaceans off the front of my shirt ‘right then off to Edinburgh’.

Glasgow to Edinburgh, how hard can it be? There is a big smegging motorway in between and I have a map. Earlier in the day my twin brother had offered to lend me his in-car GPS navigation system. I had looked at him askance ‘A GPS? What do I need a GPS for?’, ‘Cos ye cant find yer airse with both hands?’ I ignored his sarky comment and waved my streetmap in his face ‘I have a map laddy! A map and what’s between my ears!’, ‘So you’d rather have a map and fresh air than a GPS would you?’ ‘Look sonny just cos you need an electronic woman telling you how to drive dusnnay mean I do!’, ‘Oh so your taking your inflatable woman are you?’.

A frank and forthright exchange of views ensued and after a fierce debate we finally agreed to differ ‘Aye well you can just fuuuuuuuuuuuuck off too ya baaaaaaaaastard’ I screamed as I slammed the car door, sped out the driveway, and on to the main road. My humiliation was complete when I had to do a u-turn and drive past the house as he waved his GPS receiver at me.

These memories came flooding back as I removed my now dishevelled napkin and studied the map ‘Ah’ll show you ya bawbag, Mr la de da da GP fecking S’. I studied the map for some time making notes and highlighting landmarks on the route. I was organised godamit and I was feeling pretty smug as I fired up the engine. ZZ tops ‘She’s got Legs’ blared out of the radio as I slid on my mirrored Ray ban Aviators and admired my reflection in the rear view mirror ‘I have a plan, I have a fully inflated co-pilot and I’m feeling bad, let’s roll!’

My cheesy rock ballad induced smugness was short lived as I learnt a valuable lesson about street maps. Street maps don’t always show one way streets, some do, but not the one I had. This makes planning a route somewhat troublesome. Having got lost in a warren of one way streets in the centre of Edinburgh I was beginning to panic. Trying to read a map and drive at the same time would clearly be a foolish and dangerous idea. Only a complete imbecile would attempt such folly.

But if you wedge the map between the spokes of your steering wheel then it’s quite safe! Practically a GPS. If GPS stands for Gormless Prick Steering! I was doing ok until the first roundabout, quite difficult to read a map and keep your eyes on the road as it spins through 360 degrees (the map not the road). After the fourth large bump I elected to pull over and ‘re-establish’ my location.

The old boy clinging on to the radiator grille was quite grateful for the opportunity to peel himself off the front of the car and retrieve his zimmer frame from under the back wheels. ‘No trouble sir’ I said ‘pensioners travel for free’ I smiled and waved at him as he extended a shaking and now fractured middle digit and waggled it in my direction before stumbling off towards the bus stop.

I wasn’t too far from Holyrood park as the crow flies so I decided to ditch the car and run. My ‘all you can eat’ turned into an ‘all you can chunder’ half way there but I made it to the start just in time. Salt was rubbed further into the wound as I spied my brother sitting in the gallery with his picnic table and deckchairs out slurping a cup of tea ‘Alright then fatboy, find it alright did you?’

‘You complete and utter-‘ my reply was drowned out by the starters gun and I headed off up the hill…..

33 minutes 6 seconds, 471^st out of 686 and a prick fer a brother!

Doei