Saturday, 13 February 2016

Sweets For My Sweet

An array of romantic petit fours and souffles specially selected for Valentine's Day. 
"You all set?" says Watson's shop assistant to a window cleaner who's just stopped by or a pie.
"Fur whit?" he asks with a bewildered look.
"Wur talkin' aboot Valentines," croaks the woman at the front of the queue with a hearty laugh. 
"That?!" he exclaims and his face breaks into a knowing grin as he shakes his head, "That's a big con."
"Now, now," they say. "You better make sure ye've got a bookey all ready n a big box a chocs."
"Ach away," he laughs, "Better aff wi plastic flooers. They last longer."

Wednesday, 10 February 2016

Morning Fry-Up


A queue forms in Gaynor's Cafe on Langlands Road for Govan's late breakfasters. Gaynor herself is handling the rush with her usual air of tranquility, a smiling, detached interest in the customer chat, efficiency in cooking up multiple orders of eggs fried with perfect yolks, sausage link and sausage square, succulent bacon and triangles of potato scones, all ready for last minute shallow frying. The cafe maintains a pristine kitchen of polished stainless steel and bleach clean sinks and worktops.

"Put me oan a breakfast Gaynor, will ye?" says a local biznessman as he pushes open the door and settles at the counter.
Gaynor nods her spiralling black curls and holds him for a moment in the gaze of her stunning blue eyes, "Bacon?" she enquires.
"Aye, fry us a wee roll n bacon, nae fat an a crispy roll."
Gaynor smiles benignly.
"Tottie scone. Like ma tottie scone," he declares.
She nods, turning a line of Lorne sausage, laying down bacon on the griddle, wiping and polishing as she goes.

Saturday, 6 February 2016

Have An Ice Day

A pokey hat, a 99, wafers, nougats, oysters, all the delights of the ice cream van are available in Govan's streets today.  
Mr Whippy is still rolling through the streets, keeping tradition alive, the tinkling chimes announcing his arrival and sending kids into a mad rush for money for the van. 

Mr W. has diversified a bit. You have to. It's the same story as the cornershopkeepers; everyone is going to the supermarkets where sweeties are sold in multi packs and packets of fags are cheaper (though one cannot purchase a sing'el in store). This van has added slushies and lots of penny and tuppence trays, packets of tea for our convenience. 
He plies his trade across Ibrox and Govan, serving the schools at dinnertime, Bella and Govan High, the stadiums on match days, up and down the streets in the evenings when ladies in slippers slip out to the van for a cone wi tally's blood - probably even in their jammies nowadays. 

"Are there any no-go areas for the ice cream van, Mr Whippy?" I enquire, hoping to hear some gritty tales of ice cream wars.
"Ye wouldnae enter Shaw Street," says he with a laugh. "Ye'd no come back oot."
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