Authors: Kevin Brennan
That truck’s letting me across. Nail it. Sweet!
“Four Sean.”
“Yeah, go ahead.”
“How’re you getting on?”
“Just droppin’ me second Rathgar, then Terenure and then up.”
“Brady’s Solicitors in Terenure have one for Tallaght Village and one for Cookstown to go with ye.”
“Yee haw.”
Oh no, this receptionist looks busy. Straight to the out tray. Not much hope, though, the work couldn’t have been rung in more than five minutes ago. Probably still sitting on the desk of whoever rang them in. My only hope is that they were dropped down to the receptionist to ring in.
Should have asked for a contact name immediately. Maybe I’ll save time by asking now….hang on two small envelopes in the out tray…could it possibly be…?
You little beauty!
“I’m here for these two.”
“Four Sean.”
“Go ahead four.”
“Terenure with eight on board headin’ for Tallaght, Whitestown, Cookstown and Ballymount.”
“Reverse that, Sean. I have one in the AA in Walkinstown for the bank in Tallaght, just in.”
“Roger that, headin’ straight for Walkinstown then Ballymount an’ up.”
“When ye drop Ballymount I have two in Europrint there, one for Cookstown an’ one comin’ into Fitzwilliam.”
“This day just gets better and better.”
“Make sure ye let me know of any delays or problems.”
“They’re all handy, boss, they’ll be bashed out in no time.”
“I heard that before!”
“And the sun is shinin’ an’ everybody’s smilin’!”
“Yah, whatever, Eleven Giz, go ahead…I know he is. Four Sean, ye’d better make sure ye do the lotto this week, ye jammy pox ye.”
“For sure, Kimo Sabe.”
Can’t believe how well this day is going. All this work and none of it bulky or awkward or badly addressed.
Oh, my God, look at the rack on her. Slow down…more. What a vision! If the front is anything as impressive as the back...Even better! I have to pull over. Don’t get off the bike, just say hello. Hello is never going to be enough for this stunner. It has to be a compliment.
Quick, here she is. Look like you need directions.
“Excuse me…hi I’m…I just had to pull over to say thanks. Seeing you has been the best part of a very good day for me… well done!”
“I’m married.”
“Of course you are. I didn’t pull over to harass you, just to compliment you. You are truly beautiful and I wish you all the happiness in the world. Bye now.”
Oh, that smile…watch the kerb! Enough gazing in the mirror, dreamy boy, that was too close!
“Four Sean four.”
“Yeah go ahead.”
“How’re you gettin’ on there?”
“Just leavin’ the square headin’ for Whitestown, then Old Bawn for two residential drops. Have the return for Hatch Street an’ the Fitzwilliam on board. Everything else done. An’tin’ else there?”
“Woodies head office for Stephen’s Green, Farm Fresh Food for Young’s.”
“Roger. I’m gonna bash out these three and grab the Woodies, then back to Cookstown.”
“Roger.”
Oh, there’s whatsisname from….er… where the fuck does he work again?
Beep and wave anyway. Uh-oh…here he comes for a yap. What is his fucking name?
“How’s it goin’, man? How are you? Are ye lovin’ this weather or wha’?”
Trevor? Ollie? No. Noel? No.
“I’m havin’ a great day meself. Fallin into the work! I have thirty under me belt so far!”
Seamus? No. Michael? No.
“Nah, nah, Lightning isn’t that busy, I’ve just had a couple of very lucky runs. Mostly envelopes too! No neck breakers or box wobblers.”
Anto? No. Jimmy? No.
“No thanks, man, no time for a smoke. Better get crackin’ on. Catch ya later.”
Whoever the fuck you are!
Okay, Hatch Street, Fitzwilliam, Ship Street and then over to Abbey.
Or maybe Fitzwilliam, Hatch, Ship and Abbey? No. Down past McConnells, through the bollards at Harcourt Terrace and through the one way from Hatch Street (completely going the wrong way and all).
Bash out Hatch, illegal right onto Lesson, Fitzwilliam and then on, after dodging at least three nasty sets of lights. Four Sean is on fire today!
THE BAD
Watch the surface! Straighten her up, gentle back brake… steady…whoa fuck! Hold it. Jeez, that was close. Fucking diesel floating on the rainwater. Fucking rain. Not one minute’s break from it all fucking day. All fucking shitty day! Shitty day when every bastard has it in for me. For me and my wet balls. Fuck them all!
“Four Sean.”
“Go ahead.”
“How are ya getting on, Sean?”
“I’m nearly after goin’ on my fuckin’ snot on City Quay headin’ for Faulkner- Turner on Baggot.”
“I need you to go back to Modern Finance in the IFSC – they
have to do something to the jobs you picked up there that they forgot to do before.”
Ah for fuck’s sake!
“They should have ordered a car for these jobs - each one is a big jiffy bag with two huge files in it.”
“Have you got them all on board now?”
“Roger.”
“Well then they’re bike jobs. Call me when you’re ready to leave the IFSC.”
Prick!
Is that just a puddle or…ow fuck! Bastard pothole. Shithead’s dragging me back fucking northside in this bastard rain.
“Four Sean.”
“Go ahead.”
“How long before you pick up in Faulkner-Turner?”
“I’d have it on board now if you hadn’t sent me back to the IFSC.”
“You didn’t tell me you hadn’t picked up Faulkner-Turner.”
“I told you I was on my way.”
“I need you to communicate better with me, Four Sean. How long will you be there?”
How the fuck should I know?
“Not sure. They have all four of these car jobs open here in front of me. Do you want me to pull out of this one and head to Baggot?”
“No, you stay there. The one from Faulkner-Turner will be in the base for you.
Come straight here from Maddens.”
“Roger”
Wanker.
“Four Sean.”
“Go ahead, Sean.”
“Ready to leave Maddens now. Can you put twenty on that second docket?”
“What second docket?”
“The second docket that I’m getting for going back to
them.”
“You didn’t get a second docket. I’ll put twenty on the first.”
“Well in that case you can put forty on the first.”
“Too late. Ye got twenty.”
I’ll be getting a puncture very shortly you fucking-
“Is that a Roger, Sean?”
“Dickhead.” Oh shit!
“What did you say?”
“Yeah, yeah, I said.”
“Straight here, Sean.”
“Is that one from Faulkner-Turner a big one? I only have room on board for small envelopes.”
“It’s artwork.”
“A tube.”
“Nope.”
“My box is full and my neck is already wrecked with all this crap that I have on board.”
“Boo hoo.”
Bastard!
Bastard traffic! Fucking shitheads in their cars with fucking pusses on them as if they were getting wet. Don’t even think of cutting across...You cunt! Beeeep!
“Open your fuckin’ eyes, bitch!”
She deserves a boot. Go on. Front driver’s side, teach the ugly fuck a lesson. There, take that bitch! Now, outta here. Good luck reading my reg, you whore from hell.
“No fuckin’ way.”
“You have to take it.”
“But it’s at least two foot by three foot. There’s no way it’s goin’ in my bag or my box.”
“Just bungee it onto the box behind ye.”
“But it’s pissin’ rain.”
“John has big black bags there.”
“Don’t blame me if gets destroyed.”
“I will fuckin’ blame you, ye fuckin’ crybaby ye. Bit o’ fuckin’ rain an’ I get this crap owa yez all. Fuckin’ sugar lumps the lot o’ yez!”
Rath-fuckin’-farnham, how I hate the place! Mostly poxy residential drops and fuck all chance of a good run out of the kip. At least my neck won’t be torn off me for much longer once I get this big bastard delivered out of the bag.
Marley Grove, here we are. Now what number? Oh no. Oh, Jaysus no.
Oh, fuck no. You snotty, fucking pretentious, self-indulgent bastards!
“Four Sean.”
“Go ahead.”
“I need you to ring Maddens and find out what number in Marley Grove this one is going to.”
“I don’t have time for this shite! Why didn’t you sort it out there when you picked up?”
“They just have a house name on it and all the houses up here are numbered.”
“Stand by there.”
Cunts, as if I’ve got nothing better to do!
“Four Sean.”
“Yeah go ahead.’
“Did you drop Chruchtown on yer way up?”
Oh, God no. Not this, not now! Of all the fucking times to forget a drop!
“Four Sean, answer me.”
“I’m gonna have to drop that one on the rebound. I headed straight up here to get rid of the bulky ones.”
“I don’t be-fucking-lieve it! And how are you doin’ up there?”
You’re goin’ to love this one, Bollicky Balls!
“I’m up to number twenty in Marley Grove. Still no Casablanca!”
“You’re takin’ the piss now!”
‘I asked ye to ring Maddens!”
“How many houses in Marley Grove?”
“Sixty eight.”
“You’re tellin’ me you’re goin’ to knock on sixty eight fuckin’ doors lookin’ for some dickhead’s house name?”
“Just while waitin’ for you to come back to me.”
“Stand by there…asshole!”
Knocking on doors looking for some shithead who thinks numbers aren’t good enough for him. As if!
Aidan probably knows that I’m smoking cigarettes under a bus shelter, but fuck him. He’ll never be able to prove it. I just hope the pretentious dickhead lives in a high number house.
“Four Sean.”
“Go ahead.”
“The only address Maddens have for this prick is the house name. What’s the name on the envelope and I’ll try the Thom’s directory.”
“Gerry McNulty.”
“One minute… forty seven, number forty seven is registered to a J. McNulty.”
“Roger.”
Couldn’t have done that for me in the first place, Fatso. Then again, I could have done it myself when I was in the base. Always be wary of these shitheads Sean. Always.
“Four Sean.”
“Go ahead.”
“Empty in Churchtown, just gonna grab a quick bite.”
“No yer noh, I need you to header round to the sign factory on Braemor Road there an’ collect one comin’ into Imprint in Mount Pleasant.”
“Is it in long? Have I got time to shove a quick burger into me face?”
“No you fuckin’ haven’t; this job has been on my screen for ages while you were prickin’ around up in Rathfarnham. Call me when you have it on board, an’ no shite owa ye!”
“It’s ten past three and I haven’t stopped for a second all day!”
“I don’t give a shite.”
Dickhead!
“Four Sean.”
“Go ahead.”
“There’s nothin’ here at the sign factory for Imprint. Have ye got a contact name for me?”
“Stand by I’ll get ye one.”
“Coulda got that burger!”
“Coulda goh fired for shitein’ owa ye!”
Asshole!
“What’s the quickest thing you have?”
“Well the chicken is in the oven and ready to go.”
“Okay I’ll have a junior box and -”
“Four Sean.”
“Yeah go ahead”
“What’s happening there?”
“I don’t know, yer man went in the back to get Mick and hasn’t come back yet.”
“I have other work lined up for ye, can you tell them to get a move on?”
“Do you want me to pull out of here?”
“Not yet, give it another five.”
“Roger…and a can of orange also please. How much is that?”
“Four Sean.”
“Go ahead.”
“I have that on board, can you put half an hour on it for me?”
“Roger. When ye get to Imprint they’re gonna give ye one for the bank in Ranelagh an’ back, an’ when you’re in Ranelagh I have two in Compusol - Manor Stree’ an’ Pearse Stree’”
“I’ll never make the bank.”
“It’s Thursday; banks are open til five.”
“Ye know that I haven’t had anything to eat all day?”