Av got wood for you.
Uttered the burly man on my doorstep as I opened the door to his rather insistent knocking.
I beg your pardon?
I said sternly, not being the sort of fellow who appreciates random men telling them that they are erect for him.
The man creased his big placenta coloured face into a frown.
I have got wood for you.
He said slowly and carefully as if talking to the kind of buffoon who lives life expecting that random strangers will attempt to crudely seduce him on his doorstep with their penis.
I looked him up and down. He was rather dusty and dirty looking. I have always been strictly a vagina loving kind of man so the very least I would expect if someone was to attempt to steer my ship from its course would be that they would have a bit of a wash.
No thank you, not today.
Inwardly, I applauded myself on my diplomacy. Parenthood had mellowed me and gone were the days where I would have chased the chap with a stick and administered a sound beating.
I cannae just take it away?
Woody looked quite upset. The poor chap was obviously not the best at handling rejection.
Not for the first time, I thanked my lucky stars that I wasn't English so I didn't have to give him a pity wank out of politeness.
Well, you will just have to.
I leaned over him and adopted a flinty posture to show him that I meant business.
But, Ive got the paperwork. Thats you isn't it?
He pulled a crumpled sheaf of paper from a gaping pocket and waved it at me.
I took a quick look and sniffed disdainfully.
Oh, the timber. You are not meant to be here till Monday.
I remembered now, we had ordered a big pile of timber for the back yard so that I could attempt to build a deck. A task I was not looking forward to in the slightest but one which I had promised the Good Lady would be a fucking doddle when I was rip-roaringly drunk one weekend.
I should always remember. A lady never forgets...
Listen, I was told Friday. So, are you taking the wood or arent you?
He fixed me with a beady eye to show me that this was not his first woodeo.
I huffed at my first world problems.
Aye fuck it. Alright then.
My eyes began to sweat as my dreams of a beery weekend started to evaporate.
Where do you want it then, chief?
Placenta-Faced-Wood-Man became instantly cheery at the idea of dumping his load somewhere.
Is it ok to put it up the back?
I asked, motioning vaguely to my back garden behind me.
You want it up the back?
He raised an eyebrow worriedly and danced a little from foot to foot as if he had a high stake in POB and was watching the price tank.
Right up the back.
I grinned like an otter finding a sausage in an old shoe by a river bank.
Aye, ok. Can you give me a hand? Some of the beams are right heavy.
His face, a cross between a placenta and a nervously inky squid attempted to look pleading.
Fuck no. I've got to get back to work.
I laughed, spun on a balletic heel and headed back into the house to inform the Good Lady I had wood.
I suspected she might be a bit more excited than normal at such a statement.