13. Torquay 1 York City 0


“Morning Weasel. How was the holiday?”
“Not good, Lucifer. Not good.”
“That’s a shame. What spoilt it?”
“Well, me and our lass, Olive, went to Torquay because York were playing Portsmouth on the Wednesday. On match day she went to the pool, while I went to the game.”
“Was it a good match?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t get to see it.”
“How come, Weasel?”
“It’s like this. I was going to get a taxi on the seafront, but I had to be careful. I didn’t want to be seen.”
“You didn’t want to be seen? By who?”
“By anyone, of course!”
“Erm… why?”
“Why? Because I was wearing my York City strip, that’s why!”
“I see loads of people in footie shirts, Weasel. No need to be embarassed.”
“I wasn’t just wearing the shirt. I had a full strip on.”
Weasel was painfully thin.
Mid fifties.
Big moustache.
Quite a picture.
“Oh. Long socks?”
“Yeah. Long socks.”
“Little shorts?”
“Yeah. Little shorts.”
“Football boots?”
“Don’t be fucking stupid.”
“Sorry.”
“And stop fucking laughing. It’s not funny. Anyway, I had to run through town, using any cover I could. Trees, bus stops, parked cars, you know the kind of thing. After a bit I got to the taxi rank. I jumps in. ‘Take us to Portsmouth mate!’ I says. He says ‘No. Not worth my while.’ I couldn’t believe it. I says, ‘I’ll give you twenty quid,’ but he says, ‘I can make that in half an hour. It’s high season.’ I say ‘I’ll give you thirty.’ and he says ‘No’ so I said ‘Fuck you then!’ and got out. None of the cabs in the rank would take it. I ran off behind a bush. They were all laughing at me. I felt like a right tit.”
“You never.”
“I did. I ran back to the hotel, hiding all the way. I were really embarassed. I got back, but then I realised I’d left the key with Olive, and she were by the pool!”
“What did you do, Weasel?”
“There were some bushes by the pool, so I crept into them, and got down, crawling along on my hands and knees. I could see the pool, but out lass, the stupid cow, she’s only gone and set up camp on the wrong side of the pool. I started trying to call to her, but she couldn’t hear me. Other people could though. They were starting to get suspicious. So anyway, I saw this kid. I thought I’d get him to take a message to our lass, so I called him over, trying to get him to come into the bushes.”
“Fucking hell, Weasel…”
“I didn’t bloody know, did I? Anyway, his dad saw me. He pulled me out, and there was a right do by the poolside. I thought I were gonna be lynched! Luckily Olive saw what was happening and stepped in.”
“That’s awful, Weasel.”
“Yeah, I can tell you sympathise by that fucking smirk on your face. Go on. Fuck off.”
“Bye then.”

Advertisements
This entry was posted in The Stories.. Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to 13. Torquay 1 York City 0

  1. mc_nebula says:

    Fucking classic. Mate, I love your stuff… It’s great! Keep up the good work

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s