Document 68

Better Ower Yer Thrapple

Author(s): Robert Fairnie

Copyright holder(s): Robert Fairnie

IT hidnae been an awfie guid week for Geordie Jooks. He’d hid the maist awfie sair heid for twa-three days an efter it liftit, it hid left him wi an orra kinna feelin in his heid. It wisnae exacklie sair – mair liker the feelin ye got when ye swallied a hard sweetie an it hid gotten stuck haufweys doon but, insteid o it bein in the thrapple, he felt it richt inside the front o his heid. If he cuid juist git his fingers intae it, he wad pou it oot in a meinit.

He aye went oot for a pint tae the Hauf Hangit Meg wi his twa pals a Thursday nicht an this parteeclar nicht he hid swithered. But in the hinneren he hid decidit it micht tak his mind aff things sae thare he wis, sittin at the table wi Eddie while Angus wis up at the bar gittin the first roond in. The place wisnae aw that busy thon nicht an, in the backgrund, the kistit music crooned saftlie oot the twa bleck soond speakers hingin on the wa ahint the bar.

“I left my hearrrrt ....... in San...Fran...cis...coooo ...” they warbelt, juist lood eneuch tae be heard abuin the gibble-gabble o the ither fowk in the bar, as Angus cairiet the three pints ower tae the table. He laid the drinks tray doon on the table an set ae pint doon afore Eddie an the saicont yin afore Geordie but he maunna been leukin whit he wis daein for, as he taen his haund awa fae Geordie’s gless, a finger nudged the tap o’t, the gless cowped an the beer went aw ower Geordie’s troosers. Geordie juist aboot fell ower the back o the chyre tryin tae lowp oot the wey but it wis ower late. He wis drookit richt throu an the ither twa juist gawped at the sicht. An aith got stuck in Geordie’s thrapple an he felt the sweetie in his heid gittin gey sair. He juist shut his een ticht an squeezed the thing as hard as he cuid an, aw o a suddentie, it exploded intae a shooer o starns an awthin went quiet.

Geordie opened his een an cuidnae believe whit they seen. Angus wis cairiein the tray fae the bar tae the table, but in slow motion an the singer on the tape wis still giein San Francisco big licks but wi a slower an deeper vice. He set Eddie’s pint doon an then Geordie’s but this time, Geordie wis ready an wrappit his fingers roond the fit o the gless afore Angus hid time tae let go.

“Ye maun be deein for that pint, Geordie!” said Eddie but Geordie kep his thochts tae hissel an juist sayed, “Ay, better ower yer thrapple nor yer claes!” For a meinit, a kinna bumbazed leuk cam ower the faces o his pals, but juist for a meinit like, afore the three glesses clinked thegither tae the toast “Here’s tae us!”

Information about Document 68

Better Ower Yer Thrapple