What follows is a conversation I had with my mum last week in the McDonald’s at Braehead.
MUM: I meant to tell you that Ricky Martin is coming.
ME: Here? Oh….right! (Why is my mum interested in Ricky Martin all of a sudden? Or do I even know her at all?) How much are the tickets?
MUM: A fiver I think!
ME: A FIVER? Fuck me, he’s went down hill hin’t he? That’s a shame! Is that because he came out the closet?
MUM: He did? Well…. I don’t know about that. They’ve always been around that price have they not?
ME: Have they? (How does she know? How did I NOT know this? A FIVER for fuck sake?) That’s mental. You’d think he’d charge more than that eh?
MUM:: Well they want to make sure as many people as possible go I suppose.
ME: Aye….aye a suppose they do aye. (What a fucken sin for that guy, man)
MUM: Do you want to go with me then?
ME: Eh….aye!? (I’m no sure about this)
ME: Aye, that would be good! (I’m really no sure about this – Angie’s maw gets us tickets to see Swan Lake and Dirty Dancing The Musical and ma maw is getting tickets to see Ricky Martin…?!)
ME: When….when is he coming?
MUM: It’s being arranged for a few weeks away, I’ll get tickets from Marion.
ME: Marion? In your work? Why would she have tickets? (Aha! This might explain it!)
MUM: She’s arranging it all. It’s for charity.
ME: MARION IS? For CHARITY??? Wait, mum….WHO are we talking about here? (At this point I have no idea)
MUM: Ricky Martin! The medium…Ricky Martin!
ME: MUM! FOR FUCK SAKE! I THOUGHT YOU WERE TALKING ABOUT RICKY ‘LIVING LA VIDA LOCA’ MARTIN. I THOUGHT YOU’D LOST THE FUCKING PLOT! (relief)
Wednesday was a pretty busy day for me for a few reasons. When everything was settling down by early evening I think my brain had started to shut down a little.
Then I saw on Facebook that someone was getting rid of their Guitar Hero III: Legends Of Rock on the Wii. The boy’s have wanted that for AGES so I thought…right, I’ll have that!
The person who was getting rid of it is someone I knew through people at school but was always dead on… so despite not seeing each other in maybe 8 years I think we both were braving the potential awkwardness of me turning up at his flat (just down the road from me) to pick it up. Having arranged the pick up and obtained the address I got ready to set off.
Now, I’d already been out during the day for a while and it was cold but more or less DRY! I had what is more or less my work stuff on so I put on my big warm jacket and hood and slipped on my favourite, comfy, smart looking red kitten heels so I could make a quick trip down the road.
As soon as I stepped out the door I realised what an epic fail this choice of shoe was. It was raining very heavily and the ground surface was almost like a big puddle. As soon as my foot touched the pavement it was letting water in
through the cute little buckle straps and I didn’t have any SOCKS ON!
I should have turned back. I know I should now and I knew I should have then, but I didn’t. I was determined to get this overwith as quickly as possible.
FAIL FAIL FAIL.
By the time I was halfway there I was so wet it looked like I was wearing a patent leather jacket and my shoes were squelching with water…I knew it would only get worse.
Then it hit me. What I hadn’t considered was that OF COURSE my old friend would probably INVITE ME IN to their nice new flat and no WAY would I ever want to do that with my shoes on but my bare feet would now be completely BLACK with muddy rainwater.
When I got to the top floor flat of my friends house, a person I’d not seen in maybe 8 years I was soaking wet, fucked from walking up all they stairs so I was probably RED, standing in THE MOST RETARDED SHOES for the weather possibly ever chosen.
My friend was very gracious when I explained the problem with the shoes and invited me in telling me not to worry about it (nice person). We had a good wee chat and a laugh and I made a few jokes about the shoes just so we all knew I’d been a total retard and it wasn’t like I thought that was OK…you know?
There I was, sitting in my big soaking jacket with my dirty fucking shoes on their nice carpet wanting to actually die with embarrassment.
This always happens to me though, and I blame the Scottish weather…A couple of years ago- I think it was a September, I set off to meet a friend for drinks. When I set off it was very cloudy looking, almost stormy, as though it was going to whoor it down with rain. So I put on a big coat, a big heavy coat with a big fuck-off furry hood.
By the time I was half way there on the bus the sun was out in full force. Beautiful. Really really warm and sunny. When I stood up to get off the bus I realised I was still wearing this big daft coat and looked like a fucken KNOB-END.
I was going up the West End. The WEST END. The sun was splitting the fucking trees in the West End and im there carrying about a big fucking DUVET for a jacket. People were actually LOOKING at me like I was a fucken special case who is totally unable to choose appropriate clothes for the weather….I couldny explain to people it LOOKED like it was going to rain when I left 40 minutes ago could I?
Aw fuck, when I met my pal she was totally horrified at the whole situation. We decided to go back to her house and stay in.
Another fucking example of what a total fucking embarrassment I am to myself.
I had a few drinks last night. I’m going to be honest, I was fairly drunk. So I wont be able to to talk about many events of last night in any great description so i’ll fill it out with pictures as much as possible.
I was only supposed to be going for one drink but one turned into two and so on. Let’s just say you know your drunk when you find yourself armwrestling another lassie in the bar…..
The next thing I remember is making our way to a local karaoke bar called Cosmopol (see top picture).
My friend Dualta brought back a couple of Bloody Mary’s from the bar. Well, they were supposed to be Bloody Mary’s but apparently the barman had never made them before – so he’d been instructed by D quickly on how to put one together. The resulting drink wasn’t so much a Bloody Mary…there was so much tobasco sauce in there it tasted more like this……
Anyway, after a few more of them and a quick flick through the Karaoke song list book…..
I decided I was going to sing a song called Cornflake Girl by Tori Amos. Fair enough I thought, it’s a song I sing in the shower. If i murder it maybe not too many people will remember it because they’re steaming and it’s an old song. So off I went – it went no too bad. A good laugh more than anything else. But when I came off I noticed that quite a lot of my workmates had turned up in the bar and had heard me giving it laldy on the karaoke…suddenly I understood how this cunt felt…..
After a few more, what D and I had renamed STD’s (Spicy Tomato Drink) I decided that I’d follow up on my previous success…
Realising that I was really too drunk to contribute to the conversation anymore…
Angie and I decided to head to the nearest Subway Sandwich to get something to eat on the way home. We didn’t get as far as Subway before we came across THIS wonderous place – open at 11pm!!
Anyway, 2 jumbo sausage rolls later and a can of irn bru and I was ready for home…
Aaaaahh good times!