Sunday, 4 November 2012

188: Life as a Grown Up, Post-Skiving and Debbie Hanson’s Boobs

Gawd we’ve been busy today.  I mean we normally have deliveries all day, course we do we’re the delivery bay, but today they seemed to all come together instead of staggered like they should be.  That way we get time to unload one, send it off, unload the next and so on.  And we didn’t even get to have a break in between the times they came because the wheel fell off Martin’s trolley and we spent ages all trying to mend it.

It was me that sorted it in the end, like always.  They were messing about with all the wrong tools and trying to pry the wheel bearings off with a screwdriver of all things.  It didn’t take me long to get it off nor to get the new one on, but it took nearly two hours to track down the spare wheel.  So until we found it we were a truck down, stacked up lorries to unload and department heads shouting out they were low on stocks.

I could have been a mechanic me, if I’d have worked harder at school.  I wouldn’t say that around any of the old teachers mind, got to make out working at SupaValu was a career choice all along.  But skiving off to go smoking with the lads and waiting for the chance to touch up Debbie Hanson’s boobs seemed so much more exciting at 14 years old.  The teachers were all so old and so boring and so “You’ll never be anything Wiggins, the way you’re carrying on.”  I had no choice but to prove them right did I.

Debbie’s got three kids now, all by different dads with another one on the way.  None of them are mine.  She never even let me put my hand up her shirt.  I’ve been with her sister Suzy for almost four years and we have our first little one due not long after Christmas.  And that’s what got me thinking about going back to do some GCSEs and train as a mechanic, properly like.  We want to get married after the baby comes and we’d be saving for ever on what I earn here.

I was feeling pretty pleased with myself for sorting the wheel out when that Derek bloke came rushing over, waving his paperwork in my face, clearly wanting to get off up north again.  I patted down my pockets and only had a red pen to sign him off with but he was fine with that so I did.  He’d had the thing out of my hands before I’d even done the dot over the ‘i' in Wiggins.  Then he jumped into his cab, reversed away from the dock and was gone.

Must have been under a minute later we heard the crash.  To be fair, there are knocks and bangs around here quite often but mostly they are fairly minor.  Not many people speed round the car park, but turns out this one was going way too fast.  I didn’t see it from round here but he drove right into another car pulling out of a space apparently.  Then got arsy about it like it wasn’t his fault, idiot.

Suzy texted me about it after.  She’d been in the car behind, going shopping with her mum and got a right shock.  I wanted her to go to the doc and get checked over but she said she would be fine and would lie down when she got in.  When I got in I found her curled up on our bed, holding the most perfect blue baby suit.  I promised them both there and then I would sort myself out, make them proud of me.  Then the racing idiots could bring their wrecks to me and I’ll sort them out in no time, just like Martin’s wheel.

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