...is working the late shift in any 24 hour petrol station. I tell you, only the freaks, the gurriers and me need to buy their petrol late at night. Except apparently most people are there because they are stoned beyond belief. So now poor old Kurawski (who's rapidly starting to wonder why he followed his brother's advice and gave up dental studies in Krakow to chase the mighty Euro in Ireland) has to wander all over the shop tracking down the myriad goodies one requires after a little too much Colombian on a Wednesday night.
"Yeah 3 strawberry Yops...no, not the fuckin' strawberry and vanilla ya muppet. Yeah and Doritos. Did I say I wanted the orange ones, did I? The fuckin' blue ones, Jesus! And a bag of Meanies...they're crisps, man, crisps. No, that's not everythin', I told ya I wanted a blackcurrant Lucozade Spor', you shoulda got that when you were after being at the fridge before. Yeah, and fuckin' blue Rizlas man, the red ones are shite. Fuck's sake chap, it's not difficult. No, I didn't get any petrol, do I look like I fuckin' drive? Ah, did ya not get the chocolate milk when you were back over at the fridge? Fuck's sake man, youse need to go back to Romania."