Tag Archives: Jock

171. Supergirl

“You seen her yet, Luci?” “Seen who?” “Fresh meat. Office pool.” “No. Not yet.” Fresh meat. That’s genuinely how the lads describe a new woman starting at work. Call me a coward but I’m not about to start correcting them, … Continue reading

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141. Stepping Out

“I’m knocking.” Giz another card, lad.” “Here you go, Stan.” “Fuck. I’m knocking too.” “I’m not. What about that lot?” “Bastard.” The slap of dog-eared playing cards and the slurp of tea. The soft hiss of a Calor gas heater. … Continue reading

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107. Don’t Let me be Misunderstood.

I found Reg fascinating. Proper old school, white bread sandwiches with grey meat every single day, heavy coat whatever the weather, didn’t queue by the punch-clock but polished his print press with a rag until the final bell, Brylcreemed hair … Continue reading

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88. Do you like sausages?

I used to work with a plate maker called Weasel. He was really strange. He lived in Leeds but had a fetish for York, for some reason. He used to have the York papers saved for him at WH Smiths … Continue reading

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