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tae a woman too fast.
Piano
, amigo, keep a low profile, jist wait jist till summit happens – or disnae. Play it nice an’ slow, be gentle, like a summer’s breeze, haud back, be ready but when
the right moment comes. Whereas: try an’ force the situation – an’ it’s game over afore ye even start. Even if, tae begin wi, ye might naw even realise.
    Ah tellt Uli an’ Marta last Sunday anyhoo. Tellt them ahm in love. Ah know ye shidnae go spreadin that kinda thing. Ah hid tae tell they two but. Who wid ah tell, if naw
Marta an’ Uli? Uli, admittedly, wisni very intristit. Marta reckoned it wid dae me guid but, naw bein oan ma ain any mair. An’ how hid ah broken up wi her fae Burgdorf anyhoo, that
lovely Helen lassie, a really nice lassie she wis, suited me doon tae the groon, aye nice an’ cheerful, even intae sport an’ that. Tae this day, she – Marta, that is –
kidnae unnerstaun why ahd chucked her – Helen, that is – fae wan day tae the next.
    C’mon, Marta, dae ye really think someone who studied English furgodsake an’ hid an assistantship at the uni an’ a future aheid ae her like Helen, dae ye really think someone
like that widda stayed wi me in the long run? Forget it! It wis nivver goin anywhere, that yin. Wis strange enough we ivver got thegither. At the latest, when ah got fucked over an’ hid tae
dae time, she’d’ve left me. Her faither wis a big shot, or an even bigger shot than that, in the army an’ a member ae a hunner or mair boards ae directors, an’ her maw wis
wan ae they tarted-up glamorous chicks wi a pseudo-French accent fae some ancient patrician family or ither: Wot eez being your fazzer’s pro-fessi-own eef ze questi-own eez
per-meez-eeble?
    Can ye even begin tae imagine it? Me, Goalie, in the upper circles ae Burgdorf, wi a glass ae Burgundy in ma haun an’ a heid full ae broon sugar?
    Yez, hour son-een-law eez for ze mo-ment steel een ze Shoke zerveeng his sawn-tawnce, yez, ee eez in-deed a verrry fine young shentle-man. We are being verrry pleezed, ee eez verrry – ow
do you zay – comm-eet-ed, ee as ze tattooz and a verrry longue beard. Non, non, ee eez one of ze verrry best preezonerrs in ze con-tawn, exemplarree and such a day-son young shentle-man and
so een-side-vul and so good at rrrollling ze huuuge shoints. We vollow his day-veil-opp-mawn with ze great pleashure, ee eez ze dream son-een-law, yez, we are verrry pleezed for hour Hay-lane.
    Give over, Goalie! Ye kidnae hiv known when ye broke up wi that Helen lassie that the law’d be comin eftir ye. An’ anyhow, ye nivver did hiv anythin tae dae wi her parents
really.
    Ah wis jist tryin tae come up wi an answer fur that when Uli stuck his oar in an’ said ah wis right an’ Marta shid stop haverin, that there wis women oot there who wur aye oan the
look-oot furra guy who wis as fuckt-up as poss so they kid look eftir him. An’ Helen hid been exactly that type. He’d analysed her so he hid an’ she’d been the typical
Mother-Teresa-type an’ if it hid come tae the crunch, a hunner percent: she’d hiv went, fuck-that-fur-a-game-o-smarties an’ looked fur some ither cunt who wis, aye, fuckt-up, jist
naw as fuckt-up as ah wis back then. An’ anyhoo: women like that got oan his – Uli’s, that is – tits, the kinda women who want tae gi’e a fucked-up life a go, want tae
keep the door open but so they kin get back intae the warmth when things go pear-shaped. An’ anyway, he wantit some mair smack noo an’ whit the fuck hid ah done wi the tin foil that wis
oan the table a meenit ago.
    Ah took masel aff. Cos it’s wan thing, naw takin anythin yersel, an’ anither tae watch ither folk gettin aff their heids.
    The fuckin drugs’ll finish ye aff, Uli. They fuck ivry cunt up, believe me.
    Be seein ye, Goalie. An’ thanks fur the sermon, by the way. Ye’d make a guid fuckin missionary. See ye aroon. An’ aw the best fur themorra.
    Yistirday, that wis. Ah felt a right sad bastard, a