An Easter card drops through my letterbox this Good Friday, so I make my way to the card shop on Govan Road to buy one for my Catholic pal. She will accuse me of being too late in sending it. Oh well, E for effort
The card shop across from the Lyceum has a fine selection of cards. Holy pictures of Jesus and a message that an Easter Mass will be offered on your behalf. Not sure how you work that one, so I get a country church scene with an open Bible and a vase of lilies in the foreground instead.
At the counter, the Asian shopkeeper is sitting on her high stool, toting up a tower of goods. A lady is purchasing a large Good Luck card, a silver-ised decanter, wrapping paper, a small roll of sellotape.
"That will be nine pounds and fifty," says the shopkeeper.
"What?" says the lady, and stops mid way into her purse before continuing with "Ok, I wasn't expecting it to be that much."
At that, the door pushes open and a sturdy boy of about 11 leans in and whispers to the woman, and she snaps back,
"Are you out that car and left the door unlocked? You don't leave a car unlocked on the Govan Road."
He persists in whispering and she shoves at him and says very shrilly, "What did I just tell you! Out there! Now!"
He retreats with a surly look of one unfairly treated.
Back on Govan Road - where one shouldn't leave a car unlocked - I head towards the shopping centre to get Easter eggs out of Home Bargains, where prices cannot be beat.
Two women in medic uniforms hurry past me.
"How long does it go on?" says one.
"Uch, Ah don't know, aboot an 'oor," and she slips up the chapel steps.
I follow for an Easter vigil.
It's going on 3 o'clock. I am in the outer sanctum, three long wooden pews separated from the Chapel proper by a glass partition. The chapel is full with hardly a space, and in here is also very busy. There's a seat in the second row just as you come in, but a women has blocked entry to it with a zimmer frame and is ignoring any attempts to pass. I spy another space between two groups of older ladies and squeeze in there. There's a dead strong smell of ciggies and the glass is putting me off; will you be able to hear? It feels uncomfortable today. I am meant to be going to get Eggs. Will there be any left?
All these things are enough to set me on edge and just as the priestly procession advances into the chapel, I get up suddenly with a bit of a clatter and push past to the exit. A man on the door looks at me questioningly, not pleased.
I mutter something along the lines of going to sit with a friend over there and then he holds the door open and I slink out and flee.
Better spiritually prepare myself for next year.