The Burn

That’s where I’m at

Then there’s that other case. I’m talking about the hopeless one we can all get into at some stage or another. Usually it’s with a pal we’ve had for years, when he’s pissed drunk and you’re no; and you notice everybody’s all staring, they’re staring at the two of yous. It’s when that happens the bother starts and things get quite interesting. You get the boost. It’s exciting, it’s the excitement, the heart starting to go and it affecting the whole body; you feel the shoulders going and if you’re a smoker you’re taking the wee quick puffs on the fag, sometimes no even blowing out the smoke, just taking the next yins rapid, keeping it buried deep down, letting it out in dribs and drabs, a wee tait at a time. It’s because you’re trying to occupy yourself. You’re no wanting to seem too involved otherwise it all starts too quick; you want to calm things down, because you know what like you are. That’s how as well that you can try and kid on you’re no aware of what’s happening. When it’s a betting shop you’re in you act as if you’re totally engrossed in the form for the next race. If it’s a pub you stare up at the telly. The broo, well ye just stare maybe at the clock or something. But all the time you’re keeping that one eye peeled, watching your pal, if he’s making a cunt of himself and getting folk upset. Bastards. You’re just waiting, trying no to notice, trying to concentrate on other things. Fucking useless but you know it’s going to happen; there’s nothing you can do about it. Sometimes the waiting doesni even last that long. You’re so wound up ready to go you just burst out and fucking dig up some poor cunt who’s probably no even been involved in the fucking first place! And you’re at him ranting and raving:

You ya fucking snidey bastard ye what’s the fucking game at all?

And he’s all fucking taken aback: What d’you mean, he says.

Dont fucking give us it, you says.

But I’m no doing fuck all.

Ya lying bastard ye you’re fucking on at my mate there you’re fucking out of order.

What? he says.

And you start shouting: If ye fucking used your fucking eyes you’d see he was drunk ya bastard!

What! What d’you mean!! I’m just standing here having a pint minding my own business.

Minding your own business fuck all, you shout at him. And the poor cunt now can hardly speak a word cause he’s bloody feart, he doesni know what you’re going to do, if you’re going to fucking batter him. And he looks about the boozer for support, for somebody that knows him to defend him maybe. But nobody does. They dont actually know what happened. They never saw fuck all and dont really want to get involved. They’re no really that interested anyhow, when it comes down to it, especially if it’s the betting shop it’s happening in because they’re just waiting for the going behind call so’s they can rush over and make their bets. In fact they’re probably just watching what’s happening to pass the time. There again but some of them will be interested, they maybe know the bloke you’re digging up. They might even be the guy’s mucker for all you know! But you’re no caring. You dont actually give a fuck. It could even make things better. What also happens with me at a certain point is how I suddenly step out my skin and I can look down at myself standing there. Only for a split second though, then I’m back inside again and so fucking wound up I dont notice a single thing, nothing. I wouldnt even notice myself, if I was standing there and I actually was two people. One time I turned round and gubbed a polis right on the mouth. I didnt even fucking notice he was there. He tapped me on the shoulder and I just turned round and fucking belted him one, right on the fucking kisser man and he dropped, out like a light, so I just gets off my mark immediately, out the door and away like the clappers, and poor auld Fergie — that was my mate — he wound up getting huckled; and what a beating he got off the polis once they got him into the station! Poor bastard. But that’s where I’m at, that kind of thing, the way it seems to happen to me. It never used to. Or did it? Maybe it did and I just didni notice because I was young and foolish and a headstrong bastard whereas now I’m auld and grey.