The Jakey

There was this guy who was always in the Muirhead Inn, a local shitehole that reeked of pish. The guy looked a right jakey since forever so everyone had jist called him Jake since primary school. His real name was something like Ian or Barry, so Jake was an improvement.

Jake was one of the main contributors tae the pish smell in the pub. Didnae wash or care aboot much. His life was getting blootered, the odd bet on a horse at the bookies the next door over or a wee trip tae the bowling club. There was a dog he liked tae pat that went there.

As soon as the pub was open he was in the door demanding a pint fae the barmaid and that would be about awe he’d say until he was drunk a few hours later and he’d pester any cunt wae an ear.

He’d sit at the bar wae shite patter awe day and night, sometimes popping home for his tea, but mostly no. He’d have enough giro tae buy one pint a day but always managed tae drink at least ten.

So he was jist sitting there, half a shite squished intae his manky joggies, pretending tae find something interesting on the ceiling, when this beautiful, young, exotic woman entered the pub.

All the regulars tried their usual pish patter out on her one by one but she only had eyes for him! He steadied the nerves wae a sip fae another boy’s pint who was in the lavy and approached her with a cheeky smile.

“Alrite, hen?” No seen you afore. Whit ye dain in here?”

She batted her eyelids and smiled. “Am here for you, my love. Jake isn’t it, sweetheart?”

“Ye a prozzie or something?”

She giggled and touched his hand.

“Me? A prozzie? Naw, naw, naw,” she said with that exotic accent. “Besides, I ken you’re skint, like say. I ken it.”

He bared his two good teeth and she smiled back.

And so it was that they fell in love in that very moment. They walked back tae his maw’s house and sneaked up tae his bedroom and had the night of their lives.

The next morning Jake woke up and she was gone! Nae trace of her. He looked awe over the hoose. Nothing.

He raced back tae the pub and asked if anyone had seen her. They all telt him he was making it up – nae young, exotic bird was in last night. Jist the usual old munters.

Jesus. What to do? He decided to wait every waking hour in that pub until he died. Did she ever come back again? Naw. Sadly he never saw her again. But that one night. That one night was enough tae last him a lifetime.

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