Last night, sitting in the Noodle Bar on Sauchiehall Street with Al Pitcher and Pat Monahan, a woman sat opposite us with her two friends. They had all staggered in, tripping over their own shoes and clutching on to each other with a desperation to get to some food before they collapsed in a heap of drunken slag. Despite it being a Sunday, they had clearly no desire to start the week well and must have been drinking either a lot in a short amount of time, all day long or most likely, all of their lives. After much effort, they ordered their food and sat down at a table seeming happy to find something they could lean on without it moving. The one sitting closest to us, wasn’t, and I’ll say this as politely as possible, in any way a competitor for anorexic of the year, and as she sat down a truly horrid thing happened. Most of her arse left her trousers and entirely hung out the back of her jeans. This wasn’t just a bit of bum, not a small glimpse of top back or even an eyeful of whale tail. It was pretty much her whole arse. All of it. Leaping out as though it was trying to escape her body and I wouldn’t blame it if it was. The weirdest thing was, she either didn’t notice or didn’t care. There was no moment of readjusting or even trying to cover it up. In fact when her food arrived, she shuffled around letting even more hang out so she could completely angle herself to dive into the polystyrene trough of food as though she were a noodle hunting pig. Then she stood up exclaimed that she should probably put her belt on properly and tied it round herself in a manner that meant the skin under her protruding article was tightened merely pushing it out even more, before she stomped off for more food. Now I am being rather harsh, but I’ve never witnessed such disregard for unwanted self nudity before. That is, I’m assuming it was unwanted. Its highly possible it was some sort of mating ritual, like what baboons do when they make their rears inflate and go all red. Best of luck to her and hope its a means to an end. Tee hee.
On the train back to London now. It was a pretty lovely weekend, with yesterdays shows at the Glasgow Stand being great as well. The earlier kids show was the usual level of mental with highlights being a very small boy who looked very sheepish, walking all the way to the front of the stage to ask Susan Calman to ‘prove she had super powers’. This was only just topped by a little girl who at the very end of the gig said in a rather cheery fashion ‘I don’t have a dad’. The entire audience’s hearts broke and there was moment of silence till Susan just gave her a hug and Brendon Burns gave her a pack of crisps. The girl seemed truly delighted at this and waddled back to her seat. Either she’s very fickle and will happily take snacks over a family member, or she had it all planned from the start. Either way she was adorable and seemed to rejoice in telling me endlessly that her cat could open windows. The gap inbetween shows was filled with seeing my friend Dave who now lives right by the Stand. Apart from getting food and Dave relentlessly thrashing me at pool, I was shown two exciting things. One is what is called the Advert Game. Dave and his flatmates were watching X-Factor from the night before when I popped over, and while they wanted to see the show it was the gaps inbetween that caused shouting and arguing to the extent that tea was spilt and temperatures rose. The game simply involves someone shouting out what the advert is for before anyone else can. Sounds easy but then certain ads such as ‘Benefit Fraud’ or Wanchai Ferry appear and all hell breaks loose. I’d like to point out the ad wasn’t promoting benefit fraud. I wouldn’t want that to appear to be the case. Neither was Wanchai Ferry advertising large seafaring boats. Or the singer from Roxy Music drinking tea. Infact the game while on the surface level, appeared to just be a fun way of wasting 5 minutes by getting overexcited at the telly, on a deeper level it uncovered the true lies of televisual marketing. But then again on a real level it was just shouting ‘Talk Talk’ a lot and hoping you did it first. It was only when I realised they had Sky+ the whole show and could’ve just skipped through the ads, which gave it a new level of tragedy in line with my cup of coffee creamer the night before.
The other exciting thing was a shop called Moe’s. Its difficult to explain why Moe’s was great but essentially it was largely because of the enthusiasm that Dave had to take me there, purely to show me how small the front of the shop was, compared to how big the back of the shop was. He was right, it was an oddly TARDIS like effect that lead us to walking round a few times and trying to work it out. There is no working it out, but by god if you want Halal meat or groceries I would suggest going there as its probably from another dimension. I’m hoping the sequel to Doctor Parnassus will be held in such a place. Well to be honest I’m hoping that film doesn’t have a sequel.
Three hours till home, Doctor Who and some Modern Warfare endless violence till Layla gets home and I actually get to see her for once. Maybe I should walk around with my arse out and see if she finds it alluring.