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One night walking to my aunt's house in Balornock, I happened to be accosted by some pot-banging
young women dragging some hapless about-to-married friend around looking for a possible suspect.
Crossing the street (heading eastwards on Broomfield Road Springburn) some fifty yards ahead of
them as they approached, I saw that they had spotted me, a callow youth, allbut eighteen years old.
It was obvious, I was an intended target as they made a beeline straight to me allthewhile increasing their
"Kick the can" chant rising towards fever pitch.
Not quite at the intersection of Broomfield and Drumbottie (how apt?) Road we collided and where it was
announced that some serious lip-locking was required immediately.
And so we did.
The lady in question may have been a little under "the influence" but it became apparent the some of her other
senses quickly woke up. She was quite responsive if not to say entheusiastic.
After what seemed about seven or so minutes she disengaged gasping and was duly lead away.
Half a minute later two of her pals caught up with me stating that they wanted some of what she had
just had.
(women talk)
Oh well.....
Noblesse Oblige.
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Held prisoner in Scotland from 1953. Escaped to England in 1970 then to Homeland Canada in 1980.
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Pots And Pans Hen Night
4th Mar 2018, 07:28pm
