The Number 62 Bus Part Deux

[Donna Moore]

It was a lovely sunny Saturday afternoon, so I decided to go into the
city centre to buy a new pair of sandals. Yes, I know the World Shoe
Mountain currently resides in my bedroom, but, well, you never can tell
when that rumoured Slingback Shortage is going to occur, so, abiding by
that old Girl Guide motto 'Be Prepared', off I trotted.

For the purposes of this tale, it's actually irrelevant that I was
thrown out of the Girl Guides due to my reliance on my own personal
motto 'Be a Pain in The Arse'.)

So there I was, sitting on the bus, gazing out of the window and
listening to my personal CD player (The Clash if anyone cares). About
half way into town, I noticed someone sitting down next to me. When I
say 'I noticed' what I actually mean was 'I couldn't help noticing
because he sat on my knee and breathed stale beer fumes all over me'. Oh
good, that most annoying of Bus Pests, the Glasgow Drunk. He apologised
profusely. I mostly couldn't hear what he was saying due to the music so
I just smiled and turned away. Then he spoke to me again and I just
nodded and smiled and looked out the window. So he tapped me on the
shoulder and spoke again. I pointedly took out the earpiece from the ear
on the Bus Pest side and said "Sorry?"

"Oh! Are ye listening tae music hen?"

"Yes."

"Whit are ye listening tae?"

"Just a mixture." (My patented method of getting rid of The Bus Pest
(TM) is be brief, be polite, don't give them too much information,
they'll only ask more questions).

"Is it some of that meatrocker music?" (OK, so my patented method needs
a little work). "Ah'm an Elvis man maself. Tony Bennett, Frank
Sinatra... Ah'm no much o' a singer mind." I breathed a sigh of relief
- thankful for small mercies - at least I wasn't going to be treated to
a rendition of My Way. "Although, I dae a pretty guid Ma Way, if I dae
say so maself." I cast about feverishly for a hole of swallow-me-up
size, but luckily he decided not to sing. In one way, I would have loved
to have seen him sing. He had apparently recently been to the False
Teeth Shop but was obviously in a hurry on teeth shopping day. I knew
this because a) he had the most perfect set of top teeth (apart from the
fact that they moved independently from his gums) and b) he had 2 yellow
bottom teeth (and I don't mean he had two yellow bottom teeth in an
otherwise perfect set. I mean he had only 2 bottom teeth, and they were
bright yellow). Watching
him speak was like watching a badly dubbed Hungarian film. When he
finished speaking, his top teeth were still in motion - moving away from
his gums, out over his bottom lip and, on a couple of really scary
occasions they were sucked back into his mouth and disappeared towards
his throat. I was mentally practising the Heimlich manouevre.

Instead he held out his hand "Ah'm Big Chick. Pleased tae meet ya hen.
And you are?...."

"Donna", I said quietly.

"Did yez hear that?" he announced to the rest of the bus "The lassie's
called Donna. Whit time is it Donna?"

"Ten past one."

"Ten past wan? Ten past wan in the MORNIN'?"

"Errrr.....no, afternoon" What, did he think Glasgow had sneakily moved
locations while he was down the pub and was now situated in the land of
the midnight sun? At that point, a woman got on the bus and he said to
her "Dae ye want ma seat pal?" She shook her head and moved on, despite
the pleading look I gave her. Big Chick leaned over to me and whispered
(and, when I say 'whispered' what I actually mean is 'boomed loudly')
"She's just jealous 'cos ah'm sittin' with you instaed o' her." Yes, I
should imagine the whole bus was positively emerald green with jealousy
at my good fortune by now.

"Where are ye fae' Donna?"

"Here. I live here."

Again, the annoucement of this titillating piece of information to the
rest of the bus "Did yez hear? Donna lives in Glasgae."

Someone up the back of the bus laughed. He turned round, taking his
jacket off "Hey youse up the back - haud yer wheesht. Dae yis want tae
fight me?" Luckily no one took him up on this. I say luckily because
he then turned back to me and said "Ah'm a bouncer." Oh. Really. Since
'Big' Chick was about 4 feet 6 inches and about 104 years old, I found
this slightly difficult to believe.

"Ah'm gettin' aff at the Sandyford." I breathed a sigh of relief. The
Sandyford was a pub a couple of stops further up. "Are ye coming in/
Ah'll see you right." I didn't know whether he meant for a drink, a
fight or a lumber*, but frankly, I didn't want to ask.

"Errr, no, thanks all the same but I have to go into town"

"Okay hen, well you come in and see me on Monday. I'll be in the
Sandyford fae' aboot 10 in the morning. It's a great wee boozer. It
opens at 8am, so if ye get up and ye feel like a wee drink, ye can just
stoat along." Great. Hold me back.

He heaved himself out of the seat and walked to the front of the bus,
turning round at the front to give me a last beery wave "Bye Donna hen.
Ah'll have a wee pie and a pint waitin' fer ye on Monday mornin'."

Mmmmmm, can't wait.