Yesterday

Yesterday, me and some fellow amigos from Siol nan Gaidheal were intent on visiting a certain Emrba Inn to bid farewell to a Canadian who had came, saw and fell in love with Scotland.

My own journey there isn't worth mentioning, but I'll do it anyway. A few weeks ago I noticed the shindig coincided with the week I got paid. As such I invited myself along...

Cut to Croy Station, around about three o'clock. I was due in Embra for four, so it was an easy journey. I nonchalantly ambled to the ticket desk where I was even first in the cue. It couldn't have gone better. When I was about to walk away the ticketmaster called me back. Dread didn't set in, because I already had my ticket and ten minutes for the train.

"There are coo's on the line in Polmont. Ye'll huv tae change there and get a bus tae Linlithgo."
"WHAT?"
"Coos."
"Coos?"
"Aye."
"How long is that gonnae take?"
"Nae idea."
"What do you mean you've nae idea?"
"Well... they're bussing you tae Linlithgow, right? Well... buses have less seats than trains do. And those trains have picked up people fae every station fae Glasgow to Polmont. There's gonnae be a queue."

I was meeting Pax, Radio Free Scotland DJ in Embra at four. And I hadn't brought his number. So, I texted someone I thought had his phone number.

Then the train came and I got on. I didn't get a reply when I got to Polmont. I didn't get a reply during the hour I was in the queue for the bus whilst listening to overpaid Scottish Parliament researchers bitching about their facile partners and how they couldn't go to some South American island this year (I shit you not...)

Anyway, on the cramped (frankly third world condition...) bus I got a text. "Pax is gonnae phone you." Three seconds later he duly did...

Me: "Aye?"
Pax: "MOOOOOO!!"

Cut to Embra and Pax's flat a good hour and a half after the telephone call. We're experimenting with some of the alcohol he's got at his flat in anticipation for the night ahead in our Embra Inn of choice.

I get confused when he starts setting up a microphone stand near to me.

"What ye doin?"
"Och, Leonna's doin the show tonight, but I'm pre-recording a segment. You're helping me."

The canadian who we were bidding goodbye apparently escaped this situation... My mumbled reply was muffled by Pax working out what song's he was using.

So, slightly the worse for wear I ended up not doing myself ANY justice whatsoever.

However, I DID discover that Leonna (DJ for the night) is a reader of this blog. Which is a bonus, because I didn't think many people did. And that's two people who's said: "Issat yours! I read that!" Maryhill Mob and Leonna... I'm almost up to ten readers!