I had been out with a pal and laughed an awful awful lot at a pretty funny (but slightly cheeky and inappropriate) story she telt me about a customer at her work (yes, I know, we’re going to hell in a handcart, first class ticket, one way trip, no returns—but sometimes, Ye Jist Cannae Help It…) and was still chuckling away half an hour later at the bus stop, stood there in a wee dwam, cheeks and jaws aching from smiling so much.
So when I finally got on the bus, I’m guessing I was still a wee bit distracted, as I hadn’t really paid much heed to the shifty looking fella with the big plastic Tupperware display tray thingy getting on in front of me…
I did, however, hear the sudden WAMP WAMP WAMP WAMP WAMP of heavy feet thumping down the hill before spotting this hulk of a chunky chef clattering down Bath Street at full pelt in his chequered trews and tank top screaming:
“HAAAAAW!!!! HAAAAAUD EH BUUUUS!! AHT PRICK’S STOLE MA CHEEEEEESECAAAAAKE!!”