caliFORNICATION

My yesterday was spent mainly at Hampden, being on duty with St Andrew's First Aid at the Red Hot Chili Peppers.

I decided, for some unknown reason, to walk to Hampden. It took me an hour and a half and I managed to burst into the pre event briefing wringing in sweat and bright red in the face... it was, after all, moderately warm yesterday.

The concert was a bit rubbish:

Biffy Clyro =  Pish

Red Hot Chili Peppers = Let down

Crowd = Not full capacity, bit of a rubbish atmosphere

I then, for some still unfathomable reason, thought that walking home from Hampden at quarter to midnight would be a good idea. Although I didn't get home until 1:30am, there were two good things about the walk: I didn't get stabbed and I had an amusing encounter in a woman in Anderston, who was dressed rather racily and in leather boots:

Woman - 'Zzzzyo waaaaan a good tim'?'

Andrew - 'Excuse me?'

Woman - 'Are zyoooou loooookin' for some bizzzzzznes?'

Andrew - [Stopping to speak to her] 'Come again?'

Woman - [With marked pellucidity, due to a contrived posh Glasgow accent ]'Are you looking for a good time? Are you wanting some business?'

Andrew - 'Em... not tonight'

And with that I left the elderly prostitute, feeling ever so insulted that I had been propositioned as I'm not a sleazy old man driving slowly past in a car. Although I did like the fact she put on a fake posh Glasgow accent, she obviously detected I was a cut above.