Scrap 38

SCRAP 38
‘Scotty, will you stop scratching your nuts, you’re making me feel itchy.’ Frank has brought a tray to the café table, loaded with two large mugs of tea, a dozen packets of crisps and several chocolate bars. ‘Tuck in, we need something to keep us awake all this hanging about to get loaded.’
The men have been parked in the queue at the docks all morning and the stevedores have broken off for one of their lengthy tea breaks, which means the whole operation comes to a standstill for at least half an hour. At least they are next on the list for loading.
Scotty takes a sip of tea and scoffs a chocolate biscuit while Frank crunches his way through two packets of salt and vinegar and a Mars bar. ‘I can get some more of those purple hearts if you want some,’ offers Scotty. Frank frowns, ‘not bloody likely, thank you, they nearly gave me a heart attack. What the fuck is in them?’
Scotty shrugs, ‘I don’t know but they work for me. Trouble is you can’t get to sleep when you want to so I only take them if I’m really knackered.’ Frank tried the amphetamines just once and vowed never to take them again after suffering severe side-effects. He prefers to take cat-naps in the cab if he finds himself dozing off. Unfortunately, he had a narrow escape only the week before when he pulled the truck into what he thought was a lay-by and settled down for a sleep. The fog was so bad he could not see where he was going and thought it safer to park up until it cleared.
During the night, however, the river next to which he had parked, flooded. He woke to find his nose pressed against the cab roof and almost drowning. He had managed to get onto the roof of the cab, where he was rescued hours later by the inshore lifeboat, but his load of toilet rolls had swelled to such massive proportions it looked like a giant drunken cow.
He had been stranded in Devon for 3 days while the mess was sorted out. He would be more careful in future about his choice of parking space.
‘Why do you keep scratching?’ he asks again, ‘have you got ants in your pants?’ Scotty has been getting increasingly worried about this problem. It started a few days after his cab fare invited him in ‘for coffee’ and he has been considering getting someone to take a look for him. Once they have finished their ‘elevenses’ Frank reluctantly agrees to check out the problem and follows Scotty into the gents.
‘You’ve got crabs,’ he informs his pal, shrinking away from him. ‘You’ll have to get something from the chemist to put on that.’ Scotty groans, ‘Christ, that’s all I need. Dawn will kill me.’ Frank feels he may well be right, especially if he has passed the little critters on. ‘The first time in six months and I go and catch something,’ moans Scotty. He never wanted the cabby job in the first place. How was he going to explain this away? Will Dawn believe in the ‘sleeping in a crumby B&B’ story again? He hopes so.