Quicklinks:
|
Great Writing - Home > Extended > English Slacker chapter twenty-seven
| READING ROOM | ||||
|---|---|---|---|---|
|
| COMMUNITY | |||
|---|---|---|---|
|
| ABOUT GREAT WRITING | ||
|---|---|---|
|
| WORK AWAITING REVIEW |
|---|
|
| GW IS... |
|---|
|
Great Writing creative writing community is designed to prompt ideas
and provide inspiration and motivation within aspiring and amateur
authors. Whatever your topic; from love poetry to Doctor Who or Harry
Potter fan fiction, Great Writing's online writing group is where you
can make new friends and improve your creative writing. |
| WHO'S ONLINE |
|---|
| We have 1593 guests online and 3 members online |
Extended Work
| print friendly version | |
| English Slacker chapter twenty-seven | |
| By chrismorton | ||||
| 28 June 2008 | ||||
|
Neale was on our department again when I got back out on produce (he’d been with the freezer crew all morning). I told him about the beach party and he said, “Cool,” and how it was, “About time,” someone had organised something like that, what with the weather and all. The Terminator had a bit of a go at me about what a mess the department had been in when he’d got back from lunch and was being sarcastic and that saying, “You must’ve worked really hard.” Yeah there were like five members of staff working on produce at that point and even Vader was there with his jacket off helping to put stuff out. The Terminator was like, “This is what the department should look like.” Totally all proud as if it was him who’d done all the work. And then not long after he said he was, “Going to the office to do some paperwork,” and, “Do you think you can manage this time?” So before long it was just me and Neale on produce; yeah, Bradby went to the office with The Terminator and the other people who were helping went back to their departments. The section was looking well good. Me and Neale talked about how, “Obviously it is,” ‘cause of course The Terminator had got like the whole shop to help him, and after a while of walking around chatting and not doing a hell of a lot – there wasn’t really a hell of a lot to do, it was afternoon and there weren’t that many customers any more – I persuaded Neale to go for a tea break with me. At first he was like, “We’d better not,” and, “You saw what kind of mood The Terminator’s in,” but all in all he didn’t take that much persuasion. He knew damn well that if we got caught I was the one who’d get the blame anyway. We had a drink (he had tea and I had coffee) and shared this apple tart thing which was really nice. We talked about Price-Savers and Bradby and how there was no way in hell we were gonna end up getting, “Stuck in this shit-hole,” and then talked for a bit about what we were gonna do once the summer was over. Neale told me he’d finally decided on studying Business and Computing at Shingham university and I had no idea what I was gonna do and he was telling me that I should go to uni. Actually he even said I should go to Shingham uni with him (and that it was easy to get in to) ‘cause it was, “Better than getting a job,” and was supposed to be a well good laugh but I still wasn’t sure if I could be bothered with having to study shit for any longer; or maybe even ever; like, for the rest of my life, which is what I said. Our tea break lasted ages but we didn’t get caught. When we got back out there was no one on the department and it was looking a bit messy so we went and loaded up a couple of L-shapes and put them out together and after tidying up a bit it was time to go home. Neale’s girlfriend met him outside, looking totally fit, wearing one of those short summer dresses, which was blowing about around her legs. She said, “Hi” to me and I said, “Hi,” and then said, “See you tonight,” to Neale and he said, “Cool,” and then they walked off and as I watched them walk away in the direction of Neale’s house (which is right opposite Price-Savers) I remember thinking, fucking bastard. So anyway, I stood there rolling a fag watching Neale and his girlfriend walking towards his house, thinking what a bastard Neale was and wondering what I could do with the rest of my day, like, before the beach party. It was hot and nice and I didn’t feel like going home yet and the memory of seeing Duncan disappear into the sun that morning was still fresh in my mind. It was then, as I was standing there and had just lit my cigarette, when I suddenly got the idea that I could go to Duncan’s dealer’s house and score some gear. I’d only ever been there once and had actually only stood outside and waited for Duncan and didn’t actually know his dealer at all but I remember thinking, “Fuck it,” and, “So what if I don’t know him,” and that going there and giving it a try seemed like an adventure. I drew on my cigarette, watching the trolley guy sweating it out in the heat and shouted, “Fucking Price-Savers man!” I then put on my walkman, which had a mix-tape in (I’d made this one recently; the theme was Songs for Smoking to), and Killer Flowers (an old Mary Hefner song) came on. Drawing on my cigarette again, with Mary singing about those colours that make me wanna cry, I began my trek to the other side of Skipton.
Only registered users can rate and write comments. Powered by AkoComment 2.0! |
||||
 Previous item
|
Next item
|
|---|