A’d had enough of Mikey’s shite by the time a met wee Scott, who appeared to me right in the nick ae time. Mikey wis jackin’ up the price ae ma the Hydraulic Press and, a feel like a pure dick head sayin’ it, but a wis gettin’ a bit bored ae it. Pure horrid thinkin’ it. When a realised, when a first said it to masel, a felt completely shite. A may as well ae spat in ma wee daughter’s face, fucks sake. But aye, the time came and a had tae toss Mikey, and ma sweet Press, tae the side. Still makes me upset thinkin’ aboot it the day.
A met Scott through mair innocent, clean means, a suppose. Any arrangements wae him wouldnae involve drivin’ oot at three in the mornin’ and forkin’ oot seventy odd quid whenever a needed that sweet, sweet Pressing action. Naw, basically, a came across wee Scott’s YouTube channel where he’d shred things up tae fuck and, fuck me, it’s marvellous. Tae boot, a saw he was based near Busby, which wisnae too far a drive away fae masel. A reached out tae him, found him on social media and fired a wee message his way, seein’ if he wid be open tae me comin’ roond and bringin’ some bits and bobs that needed crushin’ intae oblivion, and to see if a could watch. He seemed a wee bit perplexed by ma message, wee bit confuddled; he said, “most folk jist watch the videos mate,” and a said, “that’s no enough pal, a need tae be there and a like pickin’ wit goes in.”
The wee man wis obviously a wee bit freaked out by that sentiment, because the cheeky fuck left me oan read fir pure ages. Fuckin’ ages. A kept ma eyes on ma lappy screen the whole fuckin’ day, waitin’ for the wee bubbles tae pop up tae tell me that he was finally typing his response tae me, waitin’ for the words tae appear. Eventually, a got the point. A’d freaked the wee man out. So a messaged again, no tae apologise fir ma behaviour cause a felt lit that wid make things weirder, but tae offer some incentive: “let me come see the machine and a’ll gee ye fifty quid.”
Reply received 5:08pm.
“Aw sorry fir the silence mate aha, aye that sounds braw when ye wantin’ tae come roon?”
So we made the arrangements. He told me when he was in his warehoos and when it was quiet; when it was optimal fir me tae come roon.
Lit before, a didnae tell the Mrs. She had a right fuckin’ go at me for bein’ oot so many times a week and blowin aw oor money (that a make!) on nights out wae the lads. She telt me a hud tae grow up, snobby wee cow. Lucky fir her that a wis gettin’ right fed up wae Mikey and his poncey shite, and ma interest in ma Press was fadin’, so a wis lit, “aye, fair enough love,” and ma late night excursions came tae an end. That’s when a started takin’ every second Wednesday aff the work. She still doesnae know. Still widnae understawn. Sometimes a wonder, ye know? Sometimes a wonder if we’re just still tigither fir the wean, cause it feels lit there’s nothin’ left sometimes, ye know?
Anyway, a first meetin’ wae Scott was a wee bit too…tense, let’s say. He regarded me wae a solid level ae apprehension, aye. A walked in at two the Wednesday afternoon wae a bag ae toys the Mrs wanted me tae ditch in a local charity shoap, toys the wee yin hadnae played wae fir months – years even. A didnae say it tae her, o’ course, but come oan. Those toys ur goin tae waste in a shitey wee charity shoap. They need a proper riddance, a thought. So a packed them in ma rucksack, an’ there wis nae room fir ma lunch but a didnae care. A wid starve fir the Shredder, ye know? The canteen at work wisnae an option because they only serve utter and complete shite there so fuck that. Fuck. That.
So, Scott turned oan the Shredder, an’, unlike Mikey, he let me fire ma own shite intae the mouth ae the machine. He even kitted me oot wae a proper wee pair ae workie gloves tae dae the trick wae so seein’ a wis complyin’ wae safety protocol a could dae wit a wanted! Pure excitin’ times, the wee lad wisnae getting’ why a wis so buzzed but a wis. A think he was a bit taken aback by it. But, ye know some cunts have pure infective laughter and giddiness? Am wan ae they cunts. A wis smilin’ and gigglin’ and soon, Scott was soon too.
“Have tae admit mate,” he began, folding his arms and puffin’ oot his chest. “It is pretty fun tae watch, ain’t it?”
“Abso-fuckin’-lutely,” a agreed.
First went a wee dirty Barbie doll that ma wee girl once adored. Over the years ae bein’ played wae and bein’ brought aboot just aboot everywhere wae her, the Barbie’s hair had become matted and the gold-blondeness ae it was now grey-brown. There wis pain on her face, lit the eyes an’ the lips ‘n’ that, that was aw scratchin’ aff as well. She looked a wee bit scary, tae be honest.
Intae the Shredder, spooky bitch!!
A placed her in bottom end first and watched her feet mangle and crumble as the Shredder spun, done its rounds. The wee bits ae plastic which were once calves started comin’ back roon as the rest ae her sank deeper intae the Shredding machine. The broad smile oan her face, which wis partially scratched aff, mind, persisted as she slowly became nothin’. Wee bits ae her ground up and ground again until the plastic became as fine as salt and fell tae the bin below the machine, never to be seen again. Nae cunt would be able tae look at the mess in that bin and identify whit it came fae, no way. Barbie wis nae mair.
That kind ae shite makes ye think, dunnit? Like Barbie, fir instance: wan second yer the most beautiful and famous doll around, next thing ye ken yer dust in the air and the space ye once filled is empty. Ye were once somethin’ and then yer nothin’. That’s how life goes though, isn’t it? Happens tae everyone.
Next toy in the machine made me a wee bit sad, tae be honest but needs must, eh? It was a teddy bear, first proper wee gift a got ma wee girl. A gave it tae her when she was just a few weeks old and she loved it. A remember the first time a felt pure connected tae ma daughter, when a saw her sleepin’ wan night aw cuddled up tae this bear. Since a gee’d her it, it made me feel lit she was aw cuddled up tae me. A felt my heart swell when a saw the sight, and a feel ma heart git aw warm when a imagine in even noo. A’ll always have that memory but the bear is a different story. Over the years it’s been slobbered oan, been sick oan, even fuckin’ shat oan, so it’s a wee stinky, torn up, ratty disaster. It wouldnae be goin’ tae the charity shoap, this would be straight in the bin. Naw, it’s no gettin’ away that easy.
The bear, which had never been named by the wee yin, sunk in and it wasn’t much like the Barbie. Naw, it seemed a wee bit sad almost. A actually felt a bit bad, nearly went and grabbed it back oot. There was a voice in ma heed, screamin’ at me tae go fetch the bear. The voice cried, “even if it’s a mess, even if it’s dirty, that wee bundle ae fabric ‘n’ fluff is full ae love ‘n’ memories. Go an’ fuckin’ get it!” But a couldnae. Ma feet wouldnae move. Ma toes wouldnae even wiggle, ma fingers wouldnae even twitch at ma sides. A wis firmly planted, it was as if ma feet had sprouted roots and broke through the concrete below me and dug deep, deep down, down tae the earth’s core, an’ made home there. A wis meant tae be there, in that spot, for eternity, or at least until this bear had made its way through the shredder completely. It wis lit the pure emotional, sentimental version ae me wis in ma brain, behind a pane ae glass, bangin’ and screamin’, beggin’ fur action, but wis no allowed to move at aw.
Other items a had in ma bag were a wee tiny plastic doll house wae nae door and nae windaes, a couple ae wee cheap knock off Barbies, some wee plastic building blocks wae numbers ‘n’ letters oan them an’ finally, some wee pony characters, aw bright an’ colourful. They were fun tae watch, let me tell ye. Wan even said shite when ye squeezed it so at least that wee horsey got some last words, eh?
A saw Scott again in a fortnight and then again after another fortnight had passed. We ended up buildin’ a good wee rapport. A even had a wee laugh wae some ae his colleagues as well. A looked forward tae ma dates wae the Industrial Shredder very much, for many reasons. Fir Scott’s company, the nice drive, the banter wae the lads an’ of course, the main event.
An’ a wis even happier because a had discovered another benefit ae the Industrial Shredder, second tae ma enjoyment ae it, of course. After ma second meetin’ wae Scott, a got home and as the Mrs wis sayin’ hello, how wis yer day tae me, a cut her aff.
“Where’s the wean?” a asked her. She seemed a bit irked at the fact a interrupted her.
“Eh,” she started the way aw Scottish birds dae when they’re a bit peeved. “At ma mum’s. How?”
A marched towards her, grabbed her and gripped onto her hips. It was probably the most physical contact a’d had wae her in weeks, honestly. “House tae ourselves, aye?”
She looked up at me, wide eyed and curious, and whispered, “aye,” an’ then a kissed her. Kissed her deep an’ hard. She let a moan out and intae ma mouth, so a picked her up intae ma arms and threw her oan the couch, and pounced oan tap ae her, ravishing her, aw the while thinkin’ aboot the Industrial Shredder between her legs.
So, aye, a’ve got tae say, the Industrial Shredder’s done some great things for oor relationship. We gee each other wee kisses in passing more, talk more, cuddle more. It’s fuckin’ fantastic! When we got closer, it made me realise how much a’d missed her, when we had become distant.
A even considered lettin’ her come wae me to see the Shredder wan day, but a had ma doubts so a had tae test the waters, didn’t a? “Here, love,” a called oot wan day. “Have a swatch ae this,” a said an’ pressed play on an Industrial Shredder video on YouTube.
Silently, she watched the video until its completion. A turned tae her when it ended, gauging her reaction. “So whit?” she shrugged.
Ma wee heart sunk! A felt masel’ turn cold, depressed that a couldnae share this wae her. “Dae ye know think it’s pure satisfying to watch? Dead relaxin’? Quite cool?”
Another shrug. “No really. Just makin’ a mess, is he no?” she asked.
A turned ma attention away fae her and back tae ma lappy. “Aye, a suppose.”
We wurnae physically intimate again until four days later, when a saw Scott again. A wis rushin’ oot his warehouse after a’d deposited two bag fulls ae fruit tae the Shredder because when a saw aw that juicy goodness squeeze and out and spurt about, it reminded me ae wit a wis missin’. A decided that ma Mrs and ma Shredder occupied different spheres ae ma life ‘n’ that wis fine. A went home and a showed her how much a love her, if ye get ma meanin’.
Efter, she looked up and me and grinned aw cheeky. “That us friends again, aye?” A laughed wae her and pulled her in fir a cuddle. We napped a bit and were late gettin’ up tae collect the wee yin fae nursery. The wimin mindin’ her were no happy wae us bein’ late but we didny care! For conciliation’s sake, we got the wean a happy meal on the way hame. That put us back in her good books.
Sometimes a really miss the Press, a think. A hud a lot ae good memories wae it and Mikey wisnae always so bad. Naw, he wis a laugh every noo ‘n’ then. Wee prick but he could be funny. Sometimes a remember wit the Press did tae that lemon that one night and a still get shivers, but then a think about wit an Industrial Shredder can dae tae a lemon and a huv tae sit doon, ma legs ur shakin’ so violently!
Aye, a miss the Press sometimes but a huv tae remember that the Press didny dae half the things the Industrial Shredder is dain fir ma home life. The Press probably tore me and the Mrs apart, wae aw the money a wis spendin’ and aw the late nights a wis takin’ oot. But fir some reason, the Shredder has made me feel so much mair desire fir her, and now everything aroon that’s fallin’ intae place anall. We spend time wae the wean when we’re both aff work, we spend time alone when we can, we talk, we actually enjoy each other’s company again. Scott’ a good guy and in him and his colleagues, a feel like am makin’ some real good pals.
Ever since a started visitin’ the Shredder, ye could say a’ve become mair complete as a man. Aye, a think am even prouder ae masel fir it aw as well. The Shredder is good fir me. A feel happy where a am.