My Home town

My Home town…
I like going back to Shettleston, I love getting to see my brother, David, he is two years older than me, and easiest the funniest man in the world.

We met in a small local bar full of wee old men and football fans of all ages. David kept teasing me saying I had a full moustache going on, I was horrified and decided I need to slip into the toilet just to quickly check I hadn’t turned into Hitler in the short time I had left home.

I giggled and decided to pull out my wee black eyeliner and drew a big curly moustache under my nose that curled up round my cheeks, it was really comical looking in the mirror in the loo.

I then slammed open the toilet door that led into the bar, I threw my arms open and shouted “YMCA” as I pointed to my funny face.

My brother wasn’t there, but his teenage son was, the poor boy just stared at me, the locals displayed faces of concern and my big nephew just looked at me as if to say “My auntie draws on her own face”.

Just then David came out of the gent’s loo and laughed his ass off and then when I told him I came out with a big entrance and he wasn’t there we pissed ourselves laughing. You had to be there I know…but funny as fuck.

He makes me laugh like no one else, I wish he did comedy, he would be a star!

I got a cab home and watched Shettleston fade behind me, the streets I grew up in, the church I got married in, the bar I met my husband in, the place my mammy met her murderer….My home town.