Green Eye

By @meesterboom8/13/2017life

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Today I took my mum to her local supermarket to help with the shopping as she is getting on a bit and struggles to lug around big heavy bags.

We usually have a nice old time and after the shopping stop for a coffee and a natter about the family and how annoying her neighbours are. (They are quite the pain in the arse.)

I quite enjoy these little Sunday jaunts except for one little aspect.

I often see people I grew up with.

What is so bad about that? I hear you say.

Well, The area is a bit of a hole. Many of the folk I grew up with have never worked and some of the less salubrious denizens of the area are the kind of rough sort you would cross the street to avoid.

Still, being possessed of a fearsome raised eyebrow and an incisive cutting wit, that doesn't really bother me.

The thing that bothers me most is the green eye.

We were leaving the supermarket when I heard a crackly voice grunt.

Haw, boomdawg. Whit you dayin here?

I turned to my questioner.

It was Hendo. A childhood friend. His real name was Henry but that's not hard enough for Glasgow, so it was Hendo.

The years had not been kind to him. He had a face like a cows arse angrily chewing a wasp.

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Alright Hendo. I've been taking the auld dear shopping. How?

In Glasgow you have to add a belligerent How at the end of sentences in this kind of situation. Everything, rather wearyingly is a challenge.

Aw right. Ye goat a motor or something?
translation - Really old chap? how splendid, do you drive an automobile then?

Aye.

Whit is it, a fucking Jaguar or sumtin? Haha.

Nope.

He seemed annoyed. A vein was throbbing on his big red angry face.

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Zat it?

He pointed at my car which quite frankly is a big orange heap of shit.

Aye, thats mine.

My car really is rubbish, it is however a car. This seemed to annoy Hendo.

Fuck sake, actin the big man comin up here wi' the fancy motor?

You would be forgiven for thinking that this was Compton, I was driving a lambo and that we were mortal enemies the way he was glaring and huffing.

I smiled.

No, not really.

Fuck sake but. Acting like it but eh.

I saw my dear old mum come out from the entrance with the thing that she had forgotten a moment before.

Oh hiya Henry son. How are you. How is your mum?

My mum's face lit up seeing Hendo. She always liked the tearaways.

Oh, eh. Shes fine Missus S so am I. I was just saying long time no see to boomdawg.

Aw thats lovely son. Tell yer mum I was asking after her.

My little mum hopped into the big orange piece of shit that is my car and closed the door. I walked round to the other side and looked over at Hendo's big jealous face.

See ye later mate.

In the rear view mirror I watched him stare after us. A mixture of jealousy, rage and incontinence on his face because I had escaped the cesspool we had grown up in.

Ah well. Till next week, I thought.

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