Dad took me out for lunch today in the city centre, just the two of us. I’ve never properly been into Newcastle before, it seems like a nice place. Maybe a short stint here after the placement wouldn’t be too bad.
After lunch we had a bit of a wander around the shops, but I didn’t see anything I wanted. So after a while he took me to the station and I went home to Glasgow.
When I got home I noticed a burnt out car sitting in the petrol station across the street from our flat. Everyone was just walking by it, like it was no big deal.
I got into the flat and HarryPotter was on the sofa playing the Xbox. He gave me a nod, and I asked about the burnt out car. He was so casual and said that someone set the car on fire last night.
He was so casual about it, so I had to clarify by asking if it had been on fire AT the petrol station. He answered, ‘Aye’, and kept on playing his game.
Am I the only person that sees the stupidity of setting a car on fire at a petrol station? Our flat could have gotten blown sky high? I asked if the police had been around, and he said that the fire brigade put it out, but he hadn’t noticed any police. Bloody hell, I’ve heard Glasgow’s called Little Belfast, but Belfast must be safer than this. Glasgow is Little Belfast circa the 1980s.
I flopped down on the sofa next to HarryPotter, who was still deeply engrossed in the game, so I asked him when he was going to enter the twenty-first century and get a Kinect. He said, ‘Do I look like a fucking athlete?’
Then he glanced at me and said, ‘Where you been all weekend?’. As if he’d only just now noticed that I was in the room.
I asked why it even mattered. He said, ‘It doesn’t’ and continued playing his game.
I asked what he got up to on Friday night. He responded ‘Does it matter?’, and kept on playing that stupid war game.
A touche HarryPotter. So I said, ‘I was with an older man all weekend.’
‘Is that right?’
That’s all he said. The cheek of him. I blew the fringe from my face. Was I going to get into this fight? It sure seemed to be inevitable that he wanted this fight. But then HarryPotter jumped up, screamed at the telly, and threw his controller across the room. ‘I’ve was so fucking close. So close!’ Then he turns and looks at me, ‘Now, what are you on about?’
Ahh. So, he wasn’t aching for a passive agressive tete a tete, he simply can’t hold a conversation while playing ‘Modern Warfare: Call of Duty 4’. Shocker.
As there was no reason for me to be coy, and he wasn’t angling for a fight, I said, ‘I was at my Dad’s in Newcastle.’
He just said ‘Oh’, then sat there for a moment before telling me that on Friday he went to Hall’s for a talk.
I asked if he broke up with her, and he said ‘yes’. I told him that it was for the best. It’s not cool just disappearing on a girl. Then it dawned on me…it doesn’t take all night to break-up with someone. So I asked, ‘You were back late. Cheeky break-up shag?’
HarryPotter turned bright red, then he said, ‘No…I broke up with her after.’
The sly little minx. You know, it’s the quiet ones you have to worry about.