Sauchiehall St, Glasgow; yesterday at 1000 hrs approx.......

Yesterday I was walking up this world famous shopping area, killing a bit of time before making my way to Edinburgh, at the time and date stated above when suddenly I heard a piercing scream....

Near Poundland, what can only be described as a female junkie smackheid, ran out and shouted "BAAAAAAAAASTARDS!!!!" at the top of her voice. This creature was dressed in shoes,tracksuit trousers,t-shirt and men's suit jacket. She was a jaundicey-looking shade of yellow with straggly hair and very few teeth.

To my amusement she then asked several males,who incidently were normal members of the population and quietly going about their business, if "they waaaanted stabbed?". I couldnt believe what I was witnessing and was taken aback that much that I never had the wherewithall to get my mobile phone out and film the whole thing.

She continued to threaten folk and threw in a few promises of "Dae ye think ah widnae dae it ya cnut ye?" and " Ah'll dae you,ah've done bigger guys than you, nae bother".
One bloke who was sitting reading his paper told her to "Beat it ya eejit" and this made her worse!!! She stormed the length of the street turning round to hurl obscenities and kick trees.

The sad thing was no-one seemed really taken that aback by it.... a few minutes later it was as if it had never happened.

I myself made it safely in to Waterstones further up the street where I bought "Boy Soldiers" and "The Missing of The Somme" in the Military History section.

Have any of our other readers saw scenes of similar uncouthness which sum up the break-down of society in these trying times?

Incidentally, I dont come from Glasgow myself.


Book Reviewer
Sounds like a normal evening outside a hundred NAAFI Bars around the world.
Hang around any city long enough and you'll spot something like this happening, the fact it was Glasgow is neither here nor there
Saw something similar the other day in Lincoln, this time it was male and moving randomly about the street in amongst the traffic, shouting obscenities as he passed people. He was accompanied by a woman who was doing her best to calm him down however, her language was as colourful as his. It did look as if drink had been taken, and possibly other substances.

As opposed to going into Waterstones and buying some Military History Porn, I purchased a fish supper from the Burton Road Chippy, where all of the customers were very well behaved.


Book Reviewer
No, but it's more fun in the dialect, like something out of Little Britain.
If you put "junkies","smackhead" or something similiar into the search facility of YouTube there are plenty of UK regional versions of these zombies falling about streets or lying up alleys.

Its depresssing stuff to be honest.......
Seems to me care in the community is really working.
For more delights of Glasgow's citizenry in action, have a look here:

Log in | Facebook

"Overheard in Glasgow"
Well that is the West coast for you...and before outraged Glaswegians fire in their "you'll have had your tea" sh1te, I'm not from Edinburgh and you're all just southerners to me.

I think the most interesting point is that RI purchased van Emden's "Boy Soldiers" - a very good read indeed - but also the much less satisfying "The Mising of the Somme". Then again Geoff Dyer isn't a historian but an essayist/novelist and he was attracted to a phenomenon and doesn't really get under, behind or indeed inside the phenomenon of the Somme's missing - he's more like somebody who sees a thing of natural majesty and says "Aaaah!" and then describes it accurately but without elucidation.
True; "The Missing of The Somme" wasnt quite what I expected/hoped it to be and between the bus to Ingliston, the wait in Embra Airport and the flight to Dusseldorf Weeze I had it finished yesterday.

There's a part in the book where he describes the Thiepval Memorial To The Missing as "unphotographable". This is clearly wrong as Ive took a few pictures of it myself over the years never mind anyone else. :)
I have only ever been to Glasgow once, met up with a mate and went to Sauchiehall Street for a pint and something to eat. On the way to the pub was a Crime scene cordoned off and a body being brought out of a shop. On arrival at the pub I decides to have a smoke outside as is the law now and I meet Rab C Nesbitt, half his face missing from Cancer, yellow fingers and struggling to stay up right. Kepp my mouth shut and don't give him eye contact is all I could think. "Where ye fer!!??" he pipes up, "Sorry" (cover is now well and truly blown) "FFuFuucking English Basta, where yer Ferr?"
"Middlesbrough" I replied getting my wallet and mobile ready to hand over. After a pause of 30 seconds or so, Rab informs me that Bobby Murdoch used to play for Middlesbrough, we are now best buddies and I am now trusted with the alcoholic ramblings of how a surgeon removed half his face.
Odd, I would go up there again, once you get over the aggressive manner of their speech they're really a likeable lot.
I had an unavoidable meeting once in a grotty portacabin in a yard just off Craigton Rd, my sum experience of Glasgow that morning had been of watching a severley sunburnt alcoholic physically beasting his kids as they all tumbled through arrivals clutching straw donkeys and carrier bags and my taxi driver pulling over after 5 minutes to 'just to sort ma'sel oot son...' before going to the back of the motor and dry heaving for a couple of minutes.

Meeting over I walked back toward the City Centre to waste a few hours until my return flight, turned left at the RMR det near the Rangers ground and walked straight into 2 screeching harpies arguing over an empty pram then sat in the city square with a chicken and bacon subway whilst watching the human circus unfold as the sun got hotter and hotter

What a fucking disgusting and shameless race of people they are
Junkies are ten a penny and you get them everywhere.

The Glasgow-est thing I ever saw was when I was walking from Sauchiehall Street down to the river one evening and was daft enough to glance up one of the "lanes". In full view of the streets at either end there stood a chap with his trousers round his ankles and a lady of ill repute on her knees before him, gobbling away for all she was worth. Said chap, in an excellent demonstration of concurrent activity, was also eating a poke o' chips.
There are three types of "Glaswegian":

The keelie - Glaswegian, unemployed/able and proud of it. Vehemently unionist or nationalist unless soft in the head, in which case "Was the team?" elicits the answer "Partick Thistle". Please note the team is not called Partick Thistle nil. These will be employed in menial tasks if at al but are more likely to be on the "boro" or the "brew". Alcohlic and either death-thin or morbidly obese. Has never worn an overcoat.

The upright citizen - Glaswegian, professionally qualified as architect, lawyer, accountant and proud of it. Rugby chap. Secondary loyalty to a foopball team but unlikely to chib you for revealing an interest in catholicism or the UDA. Usually worked away in London before returning to a partnership and a house in Milngavie, Kelvinside or Pollokshields. If allowed will bore you rigid about the fcuking Burrell Collection despite last visiting it in Primary 5.

The immigrant - the cause of many a Glasgow boarding house carrying signs saying no blacks, No Irish, no Black Irish, no pets". Yet they are the core of the work force and provide most of the polis, the bus conductors and the nurses. Culturally they retain a keen interest in home but usually know the words to all of the saccharine sweet songs of Glswegian nostalgia that the other two groups can just about lal-lal-la along too. Their children freak me out when they speak in braid glesca despite appearing to be from down town Lagos. It's not a racial thing, it is just not what you expect.
Thread starter Similar threads Forum Replies Date
arby The NAAFI Bar 59
E Army Reserve 5
Soldier_Why AGC, RAPTC and SASC 18

Similar threads

Latest Threads