A Venture Down Sauchiehall Street

Dragging a heavy suitcase on its last legs - wheels - down Sauchiehall Street is no easy task, trust me. Embarking on my travels back to Dundee for my mother's wedding on Saturday, I realised that I would act as a hinderance to others by squeezing through randoms in an unnecessary rush to make it to the bus station on time. Instead of worrying for other people, I took up the chance to scrutinise every step that every person placed on the tarmac. Not that I learned anything that would drastically change my day or anything, however doing this amused me hugely.

When I say Sauchiehall Street, I of course mean from the end of Buchanan Galleries to Driftwood (for those of you not from Glasgow, it's the commercial half of the street). With that in mind, the first notable part of my journey was of course the shut off part where Steak & Cherry was. I checked up a minute ago how long it's been since the unfortunate event. Over four months ago and nothing's changed. What I reckon is that the huge (this word doesn't even do it justice) delay in the completion of the Edinburgh tram system has dwarfed anything Glasgow has to offer so the longer the cranes hang around arguably the busiest street in Glasgow, the more attention the city gets (the Al Gore effect).

The Duke of Wellington looks stupid enough, we don't need Sauchiehall St following suit.

Unfortuately for the man, this doesn't really exist.

Having to traverse around the 'construction', I was severely slowed down by a man with a God-awful swagger. With jeans up to his nipples and his arms flailing like someone drowning, there was no purpose for this man to be so terrible at walking. No music in his ears, nor was there any indication that he was showing off for someone else; he was a burden to look at and a burden to be within 20m of. You'd think someone with a practiced swagger would be relatively fast - not Usain Bolt fast but more electric wheelchair fast - wouldn't you? A zeppelin could turn a corner quicker than this man. It took me a good two minutes to overtake him due to my trailing luggage and before I was out of his sight, I looked back to put a face to the walk. Just what I thought, a smile big enough to suggest that he'd only pulled his head out from between his buttocks seconds prior.

The next destination was the Celtic shop for Father's Day (if you're reading this, yes, I did buy you something related to Celtic). Over the last few months, most Celtic supporters have been claiming to be Neil Lennon, yet the first thing I see in the shop is a poster reading "There's only one Neil Lennon". Just make up your minds. Please. The shop also boasts very lacklusture staff, with one of them telling me there were more books 50cm to the left of where I was already looking. There's being helpful, then there's being a nuisance; and today there's being ludicrously absurd.

Before you think I was in a bad mood over this, you are mistaken. I merely entered a state of judging people in excruciating detail. You can imagine the field trip I had when a man walked past with spikes sticking out the shoulders of his denim jacket in that case. Yes, spikes. Never have I ever dressed myself that would provoke someone into saying "you could poke someone's eyes out with that". Never knew that was possible. My eyes never made it as far up as the face, so I only have the jacket to judge this person with. Spikes?! When has that ever been acceptable for someone to wear? Did this guy look into the mirror this morning whilst wearing his adventurous jacket and think to himself "This looks good, I'll wear this"? Some things I just don't understand. He might think that of me wearing pink and blue shorts, but we all know that his opinions don't matter for as long as he insists on wearing spikes.

Free hugs...

So, this is Day One out of about 90 of being without my Camp America-bound girlfriend and it results in me being severely judgmental on - more than likely - decent people. Glad to see not much has changed yet and I hope it doesn't. Wow, never addressed Caity as my girlfriend on written format before, looks a bit odd but we're not going to break up over it! Anyway, point of the matter is that Sauchiehall Street is full of people that make the homeless scrounging for spare change look like people you'd trust to loan money out to. If you were wondering (probably not), I made the bus, it was horrendously hot without air conditioning and didn't get stuck behind more swaggering folk.