An Unreliable Hero


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An Unreliable Hero

So I’ve been working at MacDonald’s for nearly two years now and I think it’s all right, I could be doing worse stuff I suppose. I could be out robbing from people or robbing from banks maybe. The money is all right and the hours aren’t as rubbish as they could be. I needn’t worry too much about my missus being out all night on the town doing god knows what till the early hours. If she did I would most probably catch her crawling in as I was on my out to work.

    A lot of the lads I went to school with see me working in here when they come back to the manor for Christmas or the holidays. They always talk down to me as if I haven’t made it in life or something. I’ve made it more than what they have, I work full time, start at six every morning and finish at eight every night making nearly seven pounds every hour. Obviously I have to take a few hours off here and there to sort out my jobseekers allowance meetings and picking up my dole check, also I deal a bit of sniff on the estate to help pay some of the bills. Some boy tried to give me some grief about something I had sold him the other day so I stabbed him in the leg with a fork. He came at me barking all wild eyed and that in front of my daughter whose only six, she was trying to eat her lunch.

            I nearly lost the rights to see my two kids a couple of years ago, the council wanted me to be kept away because of some of the rows I’d had with the Mrs. I never used to hit her or anything, just there was sometimes when she would moan so much that I had to shut her up somehow, you know? It was only ever a little clip on the ear; trouble is she bruises like a peach. We’ve sorted all that out now anyway, we’ve agreed to deal with our problems between ourselves from now on, not get the social services involved. To make sure I usually unplug the phone if we get into a row.

            It’s all just been spinning like this for a few years. Haven’t really found my calling yet I suppose, if I have one that is. Life on the estate gets to me sometimes so I like to go chill by the river where I’m alone. Couple of weeks ago there was some guys down there, three of ‘em. They had their dogs ripping shreds out of each other and they were just watching it, laughing. Animals are my weakness, you know? I shouted at them to stop and get lost but they just laughed. So I took them on and battered all three to a pulp. Took the dogs down the shelter, yeah, was a good day. 


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