Tuesday, 5 August 2014
The Bam Projectory
I was out at the pub watching a Champions League match. (I won’t be saying that for a while.) Punters were crowding round the bar and the barmaid was looking through me as if I was made of glass. I bumped into Tam-who-will-remain nameless.
‘You’ll never believe it,’ he said. ‘Somebody’s put a video of somebody that looks like you up selling something?’
‘What is it?’ I said.
‘Dunno,’ he said. ‘But it’s really funny.’
Neither of us laughed.
‘You should see it,’ he said. ‘You on Facebook?’
I tried to catch the barmaid’s eye, or her arm and I might have shouted Margaret or Mary at her.
‘You should really go on Facebook,’ Tam-who-will-remain nameless said.
‘You on it?’ I asked.
‘Aye,’ he said. ‘Everybody’s on it.’
‘I’ll no’ bother then.’
We both laughed.
‘Hi,’ I shouted at the barmaid.
She didn’t shout anything back. Just served the guy next to me. That’s when I went in a huff and stormed out of the pub and into Macintoshes round the corner. They weren’t showing the game, so I had to slink back into the same pub as Tam-who-will-remain nameless.
If Tam-who-will-remain nameless had any mates he’d be telling them the guy that’s just come in is a weirdo. He thinks he’s wrote a book. And even if he has wrote a book, it’ll be shite, cause he’s a weirdo.
I’ll let you and Tam-who-will-remain nameless decide.