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About Glasgow

One time, I try haggle—big mistake. She say, “100!” I say, “20, I quick!” She slap me, scream, “I no discount bin!” Face red, I run, trip on curb, look like fool. Lesson: no cheap with prostitute, they proud, got standards! Another gal, she so pretty, I think, “She could be model!” But she pick this—why? “More control,” she say. Huh, make me wonder bout her story, like Polley movie, “Who’s tellin it right?”

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But then, outta nowhere, it starts rainin’. Like, proper British weather, right? I’m soaked in seconds. I’m laughin’ at myself, thinkin’, “Of course, it rains when I’m out.” I duck into a nearby pub, The Bootle Arms. It’s cozy, smells like ale and chips. I order a pint, and the bartender’s a right character. He’s tellin’ me stories about Bootle’s history. Did ya know it used to be a big deal for shipbuilding? Crazy, right?

Bootle: Second unexploded bomb found on same street