Date: 22nd February 2021
The latest blog from SFSA writer Donald Stewart:
There’s a smell in the lift. Nobody is admitting it but as the doors open and Mr McCrorie steps out, it clears…
Picture the scene…
At a time when crowds in lifts were once allowed Mr. Ross McCrorie, for it is he, has been causing a stink almost wherever he has been.
It’s been a tough week for him, and the boss has a birthday at the end of it. Mr. McInnes is not a man that it is easy to buy for. Given that he fell out with the rest of the office over making the coffee – he can’t make it, and everyone thinks it is stinking – Mr. McCrorie was given this task and he is beginning to panic as his lunch hour is running out.
Known for his dry and rather aloof demeanour, Mr. McInnes is a popular figure for the Board but not always for the people who work beneath him. Last year the birthday went unnoticed and Mr. McInnes was in a foul temper for the rest of that season.
The office are collectively determined this time round that it should not happen again.
First up as suggestions to get him a gift was a tie. Mr. McCrorie could only find a blue one.
Last time someone gave Mr. McInnes something blue he had flipped. Going on and on about missed opportunities and how the job he should have had would have set him up for life was one thing. But when it became personal and Mr. McInnes with a withering look had accused the people round the office of being the reason why he was overlooked it was rather uncomfortable.
It was not going to be a tie.
And anyway, the tie had mini pink dots that really did make it look stinking…
So, if not something he could wear perhaps something to make him smell better?
Mr. McCrorie had no idea what old people wore and had heard of things like Brut and Old Spice, so he had gone into Boots to try them.
He had no idea what age Mr. McInnes was going to be but he knew that he talked a lot about old footballers so when he looked online and saw Kevin somebody with a bad perm advertising the Brut stuff, he thought he might be on a winner. His confidence was dented somewhat when he saw that it was alone on a dusty shelf in Boots, he thought that perhaps this might not be a popular brand.
There was no testing strip for a sniff, so he was forced to open a bottle.
One whiff and he was forced to close it again…
He was well aware of his own reputation and there would have been guffaws and much to live down had he returned with this as the gift. He also looked at the price and realised that even with the meagre whip round they had had, he could afford to get a whole vat of the stuff and still afford a kebab on the way home…
So now he was standing in the middle of the nondescript communal area of the generic mall and wondering where to go now.
Perhaps he thinks… a bottle…
Of what? Known for his laconic demeanour, perhaps Mr. McInnes could be lifted by a bottle of whiskey.
Mr. McCrorie stands for a moment and contemplates his next move. There is a whiskey shop along the way, which is filled with the usual delights of the malts and well known blended counterparts but the last time he went in – for a wee gift for his father, he had nearly lost his mind at the prices.
He had always been told that Aberdeen folk were tight so he could not work out how such a shop could survive asking for such inflated prices for the usual fare of simple gifts.
He stood and contemplated further.
A thought flashed across him.
He remembered in the shop there were 11 wee diddy bottles that you could buy in a gift set. Perfect, he thought, because was Mr. McInnes not always going on about how he never managed to replace the 11 diddies in the January sale! That must be what he was going on about… mustn’t it?
Whilst the author asserts his right to this as an original tale, there is no evidence that Ross McCrorie has ever had to buy anyone a present in Aberdeen, this is therefore not true, though Mr. McCrorie did make use of the word stinker during the week.
In a newspaper interview, Mr. Ross McCrorie talked of how bad the Aberdeen run of form was and how in the next game, he said, that, “I just want the three points, even if I have a stinker of a game and we win I’d be happy.” Of course, there must be no truth in the rumour that there are 11 wee diddys for sale in an Aberdeen whiskey shop.
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