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About Glasgow

Funny bit—condom she pulls out, neon green it was, laughed my ass off! “Serious?” I go, she shrugs, “Glows in dark.” Sarcasm drippin’, I say, “Romantic as fuck.” Cracked up we did, tension gone. Personal quirk, yeah, neon shit tickles me—dunno why, just does. Anyway, done we were, “Knock twice,” she says, like some secret code, movie-style—fuckin’ cool that was!

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Then, outta nowhere, it starts to rain. Like, proper British weather, right? I’m soaked in seconds. I’m laughing at myself, thinking, “This is just perfect.” I duck into a shop on High Street to escape the downpour. It’s a little thrift store, and I end up chatting with the owner. She’s a lovely lady, and we bond over our mutual love for vintage stuff. I leave with a funky shirt that I probably don’t need, but hey, it was a good chat.

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