Tales of daily life from a 20-something Student from London.

Sunday, 28 August 2011

Aberdeen, keep 'em keen.

First off, hope you're enjoying the proper shit new background of spilt beans. I loved it (well, it was the only file I could find under 300kb that had beans, unless I had an African man hoarding coffee beans) so I hope you share my sentiments. Good? Good.

The Dying Scotsman

In my relatively short life, I've not had much experience with Scottish people. I know two. They're lovely, but I doubted it represented the whole of the Scottish populous. I was more keen to think of them as crude 90's sitcom character Rab C Nesbitt (don't bother looking that up, the gag wasn't worth it). Sitting in The Punch and Judy in Covent Garden with my buddy Bean'ed, things were about to change. 

As Bean was buying another round, a round Scotsman was strolling along, slowly. The Flying Scotsman he was not. With nowhere to sit, I offered him my seat, as I was convinced the battered Mars Bars had destroyed his circulation. 

"Oh ayee, thank you me laddy" (ok, so he wasn't that stereotypical, but it's just better if I make him sound like Lorraine Kelly). We began chatting, as you do, and Bean rejoined us, as did Ally's (no, that really was his name) mate Ian. Turns out Ian was a diehard West Ham fan. From Aberdeen. So we got chatting about the in's and out's of Ally and Ian's lives, and Ally offered us a pint each. Then two. Then three. Until we were really feeling it. As far as random encounters go, this was a top one.

And before this goes any further, no they were not gay, or 'trying to experiment'. Their wives showed up and I gave them directions to a top Chinese in Greenwich and we got on our way, feeling a little bit merry, and more knowledgeable about Land Rovers, Scottish Football, and the price of a flight down to London (don't do it, go via Leeds).

Dog Days Aren't Over

I don't know about you guys, but to me, and also Bean, having a dog in a supermarket is a strange concept. After getting a tad merry thanks to Ally 'n' Ian, we went to M+S to grab a roll. A woman was strolling around with a Jack Russel in her arms, to which Bean declared 'Who brings a dog in a fucking supermarket?' I looked back to see her glare, furiously. Oh dear.

"You got a problem with my fucking dog?"

Oh god. How do you respond to that? By saying "yes, I do have a problem with you bringing an animal that rolls in excrement for fun into a place that sells fresh food?"

No, apparently.

"I just think it's a funny concept, that's all" Bean said. I was in agony through laughter. This went back and forth a tad until she 'gave up'. We left without rolls. When we saw the dog outside, Bean was convinced it was staring at him. I told him it wasn't. 

I was a bit scared, though.

Over and out.