So the boy starts mixin the cocktails and I’m in this kitchen and it’s all flying away fae me but he’s still going on about being a red sandstone boy who doesnae care aboot money …

– … a red sandstone boy. It’s no that ah’m a money grabber and ah know that plenty people are starvin and homeless in Glasgow, bit that’s the fuckin Government’s fault, no mine. Ah’m tryin tae make a fuckin livin. Ah cannae feed aw the poor, this isnae a soup kitchen. Ye know how much they fuckin criminals at the council charge in rates for this place?

– Naw …

The boy should start a militant community group in Yoker and call it Red Sandstone. It sounds okay. Red Sandstone.

– It’s no that ah’m a Tory, far fuckin from it, says Red. – Mind you, that council’s jist a fuckin Tory council under another name; that’s what that is. Is it the same in Edinburgh?

This is too fuckin radge. – Eh, aye, Edinburgh. Leith. Lloyd. Ah nivir, ah mean, no the one that shagged ehs sister, that wis a different Lloyd … nice cocktail, mate …

A Long Island Iced Tea.

The cocktail is fuckin reverberating like anything. It’s gaunnae explode …

– Cheers. Aye, see if ah wis votin fir any cunt, which ah’m no, ah’d vote SNP … naw, ah widnae, ah tell ye whae ah wid vote for if ah wis votin fir anybody now; mind that boy that got sent tae the jail for no peyin his poll tax?

This cocktail is the wrong one. Ah need a strawberry something, Strawberry, a Strawberry Daiquiri.

– What wis the boy’s name?

– Strawberry Daiquiri.

– Naw … the boy that got sent tae the jail for no peyin his poll tax. The Militant boy.

Ah need strawberries … – A Strawberry Daiquiri, mate … that would dae me fine.

– Strawberry Daiquiri … aye, sure. Finish that Iced Tea first though, eh! Ah’ll just have a wee beer this time, a San Miguel, naw, too heavy, maybe jist a Sol.

– Nae Becks, mate?

– Naw, jist Sol.

Red Sandstone gets up from the seat opposite me to fix the drinks and it’s like a volcano exploding and fuck this, the roof is falling doon … not, ha ha ha fooled myself there, but the window has gone, that’s fuckin defo.

– Sorry, ma man, nae strawberries. It’ll huv tae be a Lime Daiquiri.

Nae fuckin strawberries … what a fuckin load ay shite, man … nae fuckin strawberries right enough the cunt goes so ah goes – Sound man, sound. And eh, thanks fir lookin eftir ays.

– Naw, ah sortay feel bad about it, you takin aw they trips n that. How ye feelin?

– Sound.