Part
10
Having
been a match steward at Easter Road for five years
and a season ticket holder for as long as he could
remember before that, Eddie Thomson's emotional baggage
was constantly bandied about by those ugly sisters,
hope and disappointment. Each new signing for the
club always filled him with hope, but more often than
not, left him feeling cheated.
Somehow,
he thought Guy Pistov would be different. He had followed
Guy Pistov's career with a mixture of fascination
and disbelief as each new exposé of the Rumanian striker's
social and sexual proclivities continued to challenge
the salivating sub editors in the sports section of
the Evening News.
While
he admired his dribbling skills and mastery of the
dead ball situation, Eddie's estimation of the man
rose considerably once he discovered they frequented
the same drinking dens around Leith. Not for Guy were
the post-modern ironic themed pubs and sharply lit
style bars favoured by his team mates. He preferred
an establishment where the clientele were more likely
to pick a fight to enliven their evening than comment
sarcastically on your dress sense.
Not
having seen him for a while, Eddie was intrigued by
the recent revelations in the press concerning Guy's
penchant for the latest hypersex sensation - dogging.
'So,
is it true, Guy?' he asked.
Guy
walked over to stand beside Eddie. They had often
exchanged stories in a drunken fug before and Guy
felt comfortable confiding in Eddie knowing he was
no blatherer, like so many other instant drinking
buddies who ran squealing to the media.
'Is a strange thing,' said Guy. 'I like internet.
I have blog and found dogging accidental. But I like
it. The, how you say, strangerness?'
Eddie,
fairly well versed in Guy's linguistic adventures,
hazarded a guess at, 'Meeting strangers?'
'Yes,
yes. Meeting those. And watching how they sex.'
'Really?
Do you join in then?'
'Well
yes. If they want me.'
'Seems
a bit iffy to me.'
'Maybe
you want to come? All are nice people. No rough stuff.'
'Er,
no. Thanks and all that.'
'Suiting
yourself. Pint?'
'Cheers.
You playing on Saturday?'
Guy
grinned and nudged Eddie on the shoulder. 'You mean
football playing or playing playing? A ha ha ha ha
ha!'
'Aw
right, Guy,' Jock called from the other side of the
bar. Ah couldnae help overhearin' there, but ony chance
o' getting' me intae some o' that doggin' action like?'
'Who
you?' asked Guy suspiciously.
'He's
OK, Guy,' said Eddie. 'He lives on the same stair
as me. Alright Jock? Hey, what's wrong with your foot?'
Eddie
had noticed Jock limping slightly as he sidled over.
'Aw, it's nuthin'. Just a wee insect bite. I'll take
it to the doctor's the morn.'
'You
take insect to doctor?' said Guy. He slapped Eddie
on the back. 'I think he mean vet, yes? A ha ha ha
ha!'
'Aye,
very funny,' smiled Jock. 'Noo, aboot this doggin'
business. Whit's the Jackanory?'
Next:
Jakey Rolling
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