the plane ride over

So when I wakes up, I’ve got this bad taste in my mouth –real dry an’ cottony-like – like that one time that I tried ta make candy floss outta ketchup an’ the cotton balls from a bunch a old medicine bottles I found in the dumpster behind KFC. My head’s real sore, too. I hear voices around me but they’re all muffled an’ I can’t make out what they’re saying. I don’t really want ta open my eyes because my head’s so sore. So I just sit there, not doin’ nuthin’, tryin’ ta figure out how much I had ta drink last night. GodDAMN, I’m hung over this mornin’.

Then I hear a coupla guys talkin’ loudly – American or Canadian accents.

‘DUDE, YOU SHOULDA SEEN THE FALKIRK WHEEL WITH US – I’M TELLIN’ YA, THAT THING IS FUCKIN’ SICK!!!’

‘I DUNNO, BRO, THAT COAL MININ’ MUSEUM IN COATBRIDGE – THAT SUMMERLEE PLACE? THAT WAS PRETTY FUCKIN’ COOL. IT HAD ALL THOSE BIG ASS MACHINES AN’ SHIT! DON’T THINK ANYTHING CAN TOP THAT!’

Real slowly, I try ta open my eyes. Now, I’m expectin’ ta wake up in tha middle of Sauchihall Street covered in my own puke an’ piss – like I did last Tuesday. But I wake up in a airplane instead. I’m sittin’ in a middle seat, sandwiched between these two middle-aged fat chicks. One a them has a pretty vicious cold goin’ on an keeps sneezin’ an’ coughin’ on me. I look up an’ there’s this little kid leanin’ on the back of the seat in front of me. He keeps starin’ at me.

‘What?’ I ask him.

‘You’re ugly looking,’ the kid says.

‘Now, son, that’s not a nice thing ta say,’ I tells him.

‘Fuck you,’ he says. ‘My dad’s a claims advisor fer a assurance company. He’s a big wheel. He can kick yer ass anywhere. Where do you want him ta kick yer ass at?’

I’m completely shocked by this kid’s language, but before I get the chance ta say anything, his mum grabs pulls him down from the seat an’ starts layin’ inta him.

‘GODDAMMIT Billy!!! How many times have I TOLD you – don’t end your sentences with a PREPOSITION!’

I hear the crack as she slaps the kid across the face – hard. The kid starts bawlin’ an I can’t help smilin’ a little. Well, the little fucker deserved it.

The kid cries fer a good while, but I lose interest after about half an’ hour. I don’t see those Yanks anywhere, but I can still here them. They’ve moved the argument from Central Belt tourist destinations on ta food.

‘DUDE, NEEPS AN’ TATTIES, DUDE.. NEEPS AN’ TATTIES - THAT STUFFS THE SHIT!’

‘EWWW? FUCK THAT SHIT! YA AIN’T LIVED UNTIL YA HAVE A FRIED MARS BAR! OR NO…A SQUARE SAUSAGE…MMM, THAT SHIT’S THE BOMB!!’

The fat chick with the cold starts goin’ inta a coughin’ fit – a deep, hackin’ wet cough that gets sprayed all over my arm. The other fat broad is asleep. She rolls over in her seat and farts loudly in my direction. It smells like peanuts.

A couple a seconds later a stewardess walks by. I wanna drink to wash out that funny taste in my mouth, so I try ta flag her down so’s I can ask her fer a drink a water or somethin’ but I can’t really move my arms too good on accounta these two broads I’m wedged between. So the stewardess ignores me an’ keeps on walkin’ by.

My headache is finally going away, but I’m still tryin’ ta figure out how I ended up on a plane. If only I could figure out what the hell I did last night. I can’t remember anything. My mind’s a complete blank. I don’t even know where the fuck this plane is going to. Then alla the sudden the pilot’s voice comes over the PA, announcing that we will be landin’ in Chicago in four hours.

Chicago? Holy cow! How did I end up on a plane goin’ ta Chicago? I’m really startin’ ta freak out now. I’ve gotten inta some pretty crazy situations when I got drunk, but nuthin’ as crazy as gettin’ on a plane ta Chicago. How the hell could somethin’ like this happen? Don’t airports have security an’ shit? How would they even let me on a plane? I don’t even have a passport anymore, not after that one time when we ran outta toilet paper.

I gotta remember what I did last night. I try ta go back to tha last memory I have, figurin’ that maybe I can retrace my steps or somethin’. Ok, the last thing I remembered wuz ….I wuz going to the Silver Fish….but it wuzn’t open because Ernie had sold the pub an’ then skipped town. Ok, so I didn’t go to the Silver Fish after all. So what did I do then? I remember wandering around fer a bit …an’ getting a kebab. Right, so far, so good. Then what? Hmmm….If I remember, the kebab was a bit dodgy an’ I started getting’ sick. I ran inta some pub ta use the toilet. An’ then when I got outta the toilet I was gonna go up to the bar an’ get me a beer, but then I ran inta……waitaminute, I didn’t even drink anything last night! So how the hell can I be hung over?

Just then, this guy comes walkin’ down the aisle towards me. I sorta recognize him, but not enough ta be sure. I pretty sure he’s got somethin’ ta do with all a this though.

‘Hey, you’re awake, I see,’ he says. ‘Sorry ‘bout drugging you an’ all, but it had to be done.’

‘You, you’re the guy from that car, ain’t cha?’

‘Yep, that’s me,’ he says. He takes a sip of Pepsi from a plastic cup and grins. ‘Sorry ‘bout the..um… accommodations. My employer couldn’t afford a First Class ticket for you. So, we had to put you back in economy class. ‘

‘Why are you doing this?’

The guy pauses to think it over. He takes another sip of Pepsi.

‘Well, Brad, it’s like I was telling you last night – my boss is very interested in acquiring your services. And let’s just say he’ll go to any length to obtain them…any length.’

‘Waitaminute…I’m not inta any a that weird homo shit,’ I protest. ‘I mean yeah, sure there was that office Christmas party a coupla years ago, but I had some bad punch, I didn’t know what I wuz doin’. I’m tellin’ ya, I’m straight. I mean, I’m strictly fer tha ladies.’

The guy starts waivin’ his arms an’ shakin’ his head.

‘Oh no, it’s anything like that. I assure you,’ he says. ‘This job is the opportunity of a lifetime. You’ll get the chance to see the world, meet beautiful women and lug heavy sound equipment.’

‘Huh?’

‘Right, you’re going to be a roadie for Huey Lewis and the News?’

‘Who?’

‘Huey Lewis and the News – c’mon, the “Sports” album? One of the best selling albums of the 80’s? You know, “I Wanna New Drug?” “Heart of Rock n’ Roll?” “If This is It?”’

I shake my head. ‘Sorry, doesn’t wring a bell.’

‘Jesus Christ, he was only one of the biggest artists of the 80’s. He wrote “Power of Love” from Back to the Future? “Working for a Living?” “Hip to Be Square?” None of that rings a bell?’

‘Nope, sorry.’

The guy sighs and rolls his eyes.

‘God, you’re thick,’ he mutters. ‘He was in that movie Duets with whatsherface…that actress that’s married to that guy from Coldplay. Shit, what’s her name…oh yeah, Gwyneth Paltrow! He played like her long lost dad or something.’

‘Oh yeah…that Huey Lewis.’

To Be Continued……