Good Deeds

BETTER OFF DEID…Mair like it!

Ah'm a delivery driver on the side, usually Saturdays and Sundays, sometimes throughout the week if ah can. Nights. Ken? Ah'm a full-time mechanic otherwise. It's tough work, workin seven days a week but ah'm saving up for a hoose so ah'll do anything ah can for some extra cash moneys! Apart fae working eight days a week. That eighth day can awa and bump an ugly.

Ah was just oot dain the usual route. Bangin it oot like the pro ah am. But what happened ended up bein an absolute shit show. Ah thought ah wis dain a good deed. What a palaver this was! Ah ended up dropping off four wheels for a car. Big heavy bastards. All in separate boxes. A fair haul goin back n forth to the guy's front door, one by one pullin em fae mah van. Ah gave the doorbell a ring followed by mah usual knock knockknock knock knock. You know the one. But just mah luck, the guy wisnae at hame. Mah fault really, ah shoulda checked to make sure he wis in before the impromptu gym sesh that occurred. No matter. A workout is always welcome. Ah checked the address on mah screen to make sure it was the right place, which it was, and then luckily ah noticed the 'special delivery instructions'. He'd selected the safe place box, and back garden, but he'd also put in a note. Just stick em roond the back…or you could fit em straight onto mah car for me…lol.

Any average onion could change a wheel with the right tools. But me? A mechanic, fully equipped and good to go? Ah just thought, fuck it. Good deed numero uno, here we come.

Why not, eh? Ah just jumped back in mah van, grabbed a few o mah tools and the jack and tore into the boxes. Stellar bit o kit this guy bought too. Eighteen-inch gunmetal alloys. Nice stuff.

Ah started to hoick the smert Honda Civic that was sitting outside the hoose onto its arse so ah could change the front tyres, and ah was off to the races. Boom, front done. Smashed oot the back just as quickly, so ah packed up and hit the road. Job's a fuckin good un. Go me.

Ah get hame after the rest o mah shift feeling aw chuffed and upbeat about my spontaneous good deed of the day but ah'm proper zomboed, so ah make light work o the night with a Chicago town pizza, a can o Uncle T and get straight to mah bed.

First thing in the morn, mah arsehole boss is callin me up at stupid o'clock. Ah ignore the bastard as while ah'm in mah bed, he's on mah terms. When ah'm in mah gaff, ah make the rules.

Ah phoned him back a minute later cos ah had a wee panic that something mighta actually happened. He answered straight away, but nae with hello, more along the lines o, 'what the fuck did ye dae wi those expensive wheels yesterday? Where are they?' Ah was pissed aff at the guy's fuckin attitude towards me, but at the same time ah had a smackdown to lay on him. 'They're on the car, just like the special instructions said.'

'No accordin to this fella, he says he got the delivery message but they're naewhere ti be seen.'

'Tellin ya boss man,' ah sais, 'the instructions suggested to fit em on the car, so ah fuckin did.'

'You're a delivery driver, no a mechanic,' said mah patronising arsepiece o a boss.

Talk aboot blowin a gasket, mah tits were steamin at this. The bastard has haud mechanical favour after mechanical favour aff me. Every time mah shitey van breaks doon, fa fixes it? This mug. His whole fleet's haud mah hauns aw over um!

Ah went aff on one aboot that and telt him ah fuckin was a mechanic - because ah ah'm - but ended up goin aff on a mad tangent aboot him having shitey breath or suhin. Anyway, a long story short and ah'm back at the guy's hoose chappin on the door, only for him to open it as if ah'd thrown a brick through his windae.

The guy was ragin.

'Whar's mah wheels? Whar's mah wheels? Whar's mah wheels? He repeats.

'They're on yer car! They're on yer car! They're on yer car!' ah send back to him.

'Ah don't fuckin think they are!' he screams.

He tells me his car wasnae ootside the hoose yesterday, and ah'm like, 'well it was here when ah delivered the goods,' and he's like, 'well it wasnae,' and ah'm like, '…Well…it was, 'cause ah put the wheels on the fuckin thing!'

So, the guy punched me in the puss. Ah attempted to hit him right back but punched his front door when he ducked oot o the way like a mole. Ah've got a bangin heid and a sair haun because of this nutjob and the next thing he's screaming, 'WHAR'S MAH WHEELS, WHAR'S MAH WHEELS.' Ah start laughing. Ah'm like, 'THEY'RE ON YER CAR, YA PSYCHO'

That sent me aff even mair. Ah start singing Psycho Killer, by The Talking Heads. Ah think ah was concussed. Ah'm like, 'psycho killer, qu'est-ce que c'est,' over and over, 'cause ah thought that meant, where is it? As in, whar's mah wheels? But it doesn't even mean that. Why would the lyrics be, psycho killer, whar's mah wheels? Anyway…

The guy's lookin at me as if ah need help, and ah'm lookin at him as if he needs help. We're lookin at each other in a "we both need help Mexican standoff". Ah started to feel quite sad, cos ah remembered his delivery instructions and he seemed so jovial. Even putting a little lol at the end of the request. The request that ah did as well, like a nice guy. And here he is tryin to kill me with his bare hauns. He grabbed me by the neck and raised aff the ground. Ah'm convinced ah'm gonna kick the bucket, but to give masel a fightin chance a kicked his bucket instead. Ah kicked his general waste bin right over and he drops me back down to earth. He's goin mental at me and saying, 'you're makin a mess o mah street,' so ah'm like, 'you're makin a mess o mah life!' Ah kicked over his recyclin bin as well and started runnin away. Ah shoulda jumped in mah car and drove aff but ah hink ah haud the brain bleed. If ah didnae hae the brain bleed ah sure as shit did after this cos the prick chased efter me wi an empty bottle o wine fae his bin and smashed it off the back o mah heid.

Ah'm like, 'psycho killer!'

He goes, 'whar's mah wheels?'

Ah sais, 'fu-fu-fu-fu, fu-fu-fu-fu-fu-fu, fuck knows', but he just kept coming at me and ah fuckin telt him again, 'they're on yer car, ya mad-man,' but this time ah also sais, 'yer welcome,' and ah bowed. But when ah bowed towards him, the blood runnin doon mah puss dripped onto his shoes and he went fuckin ballistic. He ran back to get another bottle o wine, because, and this was his words he said to me, "I don't want to stab you."

Ah just sat doon and waited 'cause ah was fuckin knackered. He started chargin back with another bottle o wine so ah called him an alcoholic and he went mental. Started beatin the bottle - not a euphemism - off his chest as he was runnin towards me. Well, as luck would have it, a car came around the corner and he stopped in his tracks before he could put me oot mah misery.

'Mah wheels,' he sais. Ah'm like, 'ah telt ya.' Ah turned roond to see the Civic fleein doon the road and parkin in the same spot as the day before. 'Ah fuckin telt ya,' ah repeated.

'That's no mah car,' he sais to me.'

Ah'm like, 'it looks like yer car to me. Same one as yesterday!'

He goes, 'that's mah car oer the road, the Reliant Robin.'

Ah'm creasin masel by this point. Ah start pullin his leg about how there's nae way those wheels were gonna fit on that car and called him a dafty for orderin four wheels for a three-wheeled car. He started laughin as well. Then the lassie got oot the Civic and asked what the ruckus was. Ah woulda called it more of a riot than a ruckus, but we all had a bit o a laugh. That was until the mad bastard realised that the smashed wine bottle had burst his new tyres. He fuckin leathered me once again with the other wine bottle.

So, that's how ah ended up in the hospital. How long does it usually take for this anaesthetic to kick in anyway?