The Wanderer Returns (by bus, sadly)

"Drop That Mangy Saddle," Says Well-Groomed Goat.

So - I'm back from my little mini-holiday thingy. And a damn fine time I had too.

Caught a bus up to Aberdeen on Tuesday, and met my mate Steve from his work at quarter past six. It would have been six, but the bus was a little late, as we had to make an unscheduled pitstop in order to eject an annoying (but comically surreal) drunk. He kept muttering to himself about how annoyed he was about Sir Alex Fergusson stealing his eggs ("See me? I'm the Police. Alex? Sir Alex? You're under arrest, Mr Fergusson. Steal ma bloody eggs, will ya, ya bass..."). Eventually he got bit rowdy, though - banging on the windows and suchlike - so the driver had to put him off. He probably ended up passing out in a park or something. Only to wake up the next morning to find that his eggs had been in his pocket all along, and that they were the least of his worries.


Possible root cause of rusty old drunk's rowdiness. Sir Alex is probably hiding in there somewhere too, just biding his time...

Anyway - me and Steve did a lot of catching up in the short time I spent with him. As I mentioned before, I've known Steve for more years than I care to count; and, although I don't get to see him as much as I'd like to these days, every time we do meet up, it's as if no time has passed at all. We're both leading very different lives these days: and I have a sneaking suspicion that if we'd never known each other and we'd just lately been introduced, we'd probably just half-heartedly shake hands, share a forced smile and perhaps an awkward silence, and then walk away from that encounter both thinking "what a wanker." Thankfully, though, through some accident of happenstance, we fell into each other's company when we were both knee-high to a shin. And we've been best mates ever since. Which is odd, because personality-wise, we're polar opposites. Maybe between the two of us we actually add up to quite a well-balanced individual. Although somehow I doubt it.

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