Irvine Welsh - A Decent Ride

Raymond goes away n ah’m startin oan the paintin. Lyin doon oan ma front n paintin they skirtins. So ah’m paintin away n tellin the lassie aw aboot what happened at McDonald’s n she goes, — It’s all to do with aggregate demand. They manufacture a certain amount and if the product sells well within that period, they’ll put it on the market.

That gits ays thinkin, aye sur, sure it does. — Aggregate demand. Like aggregate scores at the fitba, like. In Europe but, ay. Like it’s nae good gittin a draw at Spurs if yuv loast five-nil at hame first! Naw it isnae!

The lassie looks doon fae her books wi a wee smile. — Yes. I suppose that’s exactly what it is like.

— Ah ken what ye mean, ah goes, lookin up fae the flair, — but tae me it might be aboot Eftir Eight n McDonald’s arguin aboot the profits.

— What? The lassie looks doon fae her books again. — I’m not sure I understand –

— Aboot whae gits the maist money, McDonald’s or Eftir Eight. See, if it wis up tae me ah’d gie maist ay the money tae Eftir Eight, cause that’s fairest, seein as how McDonald’s must huv mair money. Aye, ah wid that.

— Right. .

— Ah mean, ye need tae eat proper meals, but an Eftir Eight, ye couldnae live oan that. That’s like a sortay treat. A burger but, aye sur, a burger ye could live oan. Or a McNuggets. McDonald’s huv goat the McFlurry, the ordinary McFlurry likes. But perr Eftir Eight’s no goat nowt like the Big Mac or the Chicken McNugget!

— Yes. . you’re right, the lassie sais, gittin up n gatherin her papers n books intae a bag. — Just popping out for a spell.

— Aye, ah goes. Ah ken how she feels cause studyin must be awfay hard. Like whin ah wis at the skill. Ah found it awfay hard tae concentrate, n that’s whin ah wis thaire! They used tae say: stoap lookin oot the windae, John MacKay, and start lookin at yir books, but aw posh likes. Aye sur, they did that! That Scarlett lassie must be the same. It’s a barry name, Scarlett. If she hud a felly that loved her, the felly wid be able tae say ‘Ah’ve goat Scarlett fever!’ Ah wish she wis here soas ah could tell her the joke: your felly must huv Scarlett fever! Aye.

Ah kin concentrate oan they skirtins though. Ah loat ay boys dinnae like daein the skirtin but ah dinnae mind. Ah like lyin doon oan a nice warm flair, n jist gaun roond n roond the whole room, aye sur, ah’d go roond the whole hoose if they lit ays, that’s what Raymond Gittings once sais tae ays. Eh goes, ‘You’d go roond and roond that whole hoose if we let ye, Jonty.’ Ah goes back tae him, ‘Aye, Raymond, ah wid that, boss, aye sur, aye sur, aye sur.’

Fair day’s work fir a fair day’s pey, aye sur, so ah feel ah deserve a pint eftir that. So when ah gits back tae Gorgie ah’m gaunny go intae Campbell’s, but ah dinnae, nup, ah do not. Ah goes tae the bad place, that Pub Wi Nae Name, n ah goes in wi ma heid up aw high, cause ah dinnae want thum thinkin ah’ve goat anything tae hide. No fae thaim! N thaire’s Jake tae see, aboot the paintin. Aye.

But eh’s no behind the bar, so ah goes intae the lavvy n gits ma boaby oot for a pish, but it’s awfay itchy. It’s no a nice thing tae say aboot yir ain sister, but wi our Karen bein ower fat, ah dinnae think she cleans ursel doon thaire as good as the likes ay wee Jinty, naw she doesnae. So ah’m fillin up the sink wi warm water n pittin ma boaby intae it. Jist gittin it aw clean under the Jerry helmet likes, whin Lethal Stuart n Tony comes in n catches ays. — What ye up tae, Jonty. .? Tony goes, ehs eyes bulgin.

— Jist washin ma boaby cause it’s a bit itchy likes. Aye sur, awfay itchy, aye, aye, aye. .

They laughs n goes intae thon cubicle for mair ay the bad stuff. Thaire’s nae paper tooils so ah pits ma boaby under that hand dryer. It’s mental! It’s gittin dry in nae time! It feels nice n soothing blawin hoat air against ma boaby n it fair gits it awfay hard!

Then the Barksie brars, that Evan n Craig, comes in. Evan Barksie goes, — What the fuck are you daein, ya dirty wee cunt?!

Ma cock goes aw soft again n Lethal Stuart n Tony comes oot. — That’s a beauty ye goat thaire, Jonty!

— Ridin the fuckin machine! Evan Barksie points at ays.

N ah’m zipped up n ah’m leavin, n thir follayin ays oot the door, laughin n sayin things. But ah’m no runnin away, no fae thaim, so ah goes up n gits a pint. Ah takes it tae a seat, n thir aw ower beside ays.

— Awright, Jonty! Evan Barksie goes tae ehs, that wey whaire eh kids oan eh’s yir pal but ye ken eh’s no yir pal, no really but, ay. Naw sur. — Whaire’s wee Jinty these days? No seen her in here since that mad night wi aw goat the lock-in!

Ah feel ma face gaun rid. Ah takes a gulp oan the cauld Tennent’s Lager. Aye sur, sometimes it’s barry tae git the cauld Tennent’s Lager. It’s goat that nice cigarette sortay taste, n that’s guid cause ay the smokin ban: still being able tae taste a fag wi yir beer.

— Ah reckon eh’s choked hur tae death! Tony goes.

Thir talkin pish thir talkin pish n ah cannae speak, n ma ears ring n ah want tae run ootay the door, but ah’m stuck in the middle ay thum n ah cannae move.

— That big fuckin welt ay yours, Jonty, Lethal Stuart sais, — doon her wee throat? Death by gam!

They aw laugh, except Barksie, whae’s lookin at ays aw bad. Aw sur, ah dinnae like this.

— Ah dinnae hud wi that talk, ah tell thum, — naw sur, naw sur.

Mair laughs ootay thum aw, then Tony goes, — C’moan, Jonty, dinnae take the huff, pal. The boys ur jist huvin a laugh. Thir aw jist jealous, mate!

But naw naw naw, ah’m no wantin that. — It’s no a laugh tae some! N ah gits up n pushes past thum n leaves half ma pint ay Tennent’s Lager n goes oot the door.

— That wee cunt’s a fuckin freak! A fuckin pervert, ah hear Barksie say as ah step ootside.

Then ah hears Tony go, — Naw, wee Jonty’s awright, eh’s a hermless wee cunt.

So ah goes ower the street n gits hame. Ah watches the telly fir a wee bit, then goes back tae McDonald’s fir ma tea. It’s better thin listenin tae that in the pub, aye sur, aye sur. N thaire’s Jinty, probably still in the bedroom, sayin nowt. Well, if she’s no talkin tae me ah’m no talkin tae hur. Naw sur.

Ah wis hungry, skirtin boards ey make ays hungry cause ay the smell ay the gloss paint, skirtin boards n doors, so ah thoat tae masel mibbe git the cheeseburger instead ay the Chicken McNuggets, for a wee chynge. Aw aye, it’s nice tae get a wee chynge. Aw sur, aye sur.

AH’M OOT WI the wee fellys, Guillaume and the Ginger Bastard. We’ve been tae the pictures tae see thon Wreck-It Ralph . No too bad like: for a bairns’ film, ken? So wir gaun doon the Walk fae the Vue cinema, headin tae the fish bar in Montgomery Street, fir some scran. Wee Guillaume looks up at ays. — Does Ralph love Vanellope?

Now ah’m a wee bit uncomfy thinkin aboot this. — Eh, aye. . but like a kind ay daughter, or mibbe a wee sister, a wee pal. No in the sense ay wantin tae ride her or nowt like that, cause she’s too young.

Guillaume rolls ehs lower lip doon, looks at the Ginger Bastard, whae sortay shakes ehs heid.

Thir no gittin this at aw. — Ah mean, Ralph isnae like a nonce or a sex pervert, ah explains. — Eh’s jist a big, dumb guy whae lives oan ehs ain n works oan a building site, ah goes, then realise, whoops, ah’m better just shuttin the fuck up here!

The wee cunts ur huvin a think aboot this. Then the Ginger Bastard goes, — Whose mum did you love best, his or mine?

Jesus pishybreeks Christ! Now thir baith lookin up at ays wi they Oliver Twist pusses, as we cross ower London Road at the lights. Well, that yin sortay stumps ays. Ah’m tryin tae remember which ay thair mas wis the best ride; been that long since ah cowped either. That’s what comes ay bein pretty much solidly booked. Probably the Ginger Bastard’s. Cause she isnae much tae look at, she gits rode less, which makes her try harder whin the boaby does come along. — Ah loved them baith tae the fill extent ay ma no inconsiderable abilities, ah goes, leavin the wee cunts tae ponder that yin.