A long time ago, I used to work at a mobile/cell phone company in Glasgow, Scotland. I got promoted to shift supervisor just before the holiday period and was fairly pleased with myself. However, this meant I had to work Boxing Day, where we often encountered the returns and the less-than-pleased recipients of devices.

As I go to unlock the door this particular December 26th, I notice a very well-built, bald-headed man angrily pacing outside. For anyone who doesn’t understand how scary a sight this is, Glasgow is typically known as the stabbing capital of Europe. So, naturally, I am not looking forward to the upcoming conversation

I wait until he isn’t really looking to unlock the door and hurriedly shuffle behind the counter before he can storm in to try to get something between us.

Me: “Hello, sir. What can I do for you?”

Customer: *Slams a device on my desk and starts screaming.* “This piece of s*** was sold to me last week, and it’s faulty. You’ve ruined my daughter’s Christmas!”

Me: “I’m sorry to hear that. I’ll get that sorted for you. What’s wrong with it?”

Customer: “What does it matter? Christmas ruined. I had to deal with a sobbing child all day yesterday!”

Me: “That’s awful, I’m really sorry to hear that. Would you like me to refund or replace it if I can’t fix it?”

Customer: “You can’t fix it. It doesn’t switch on. Look!”

He starts frantically pushing the red button. At this point, I already know what’s happened. Most phones you and I know have an off/on switch. However, this model had an OFF switch (red) and an ON switch (green). I push the green button. The phone switches on immediately.

Customer: “How did you do that?!”

Me: “Oh, this is a bit of a tricky phone type if you don’t know them.”

I explain.

Customer: *Very sheepishly.* “Oh… er… okay, thanks mate.”

He leaves, red-faced.

At which point, I went and sat down. My colleagues in the back who had heard the commotion peeked their heads out to see if I had been turned to mush.

I got mugged once in Glasgow as a young teenager. This is how the conversation went.

Mugger: “I’m going to need whatever money you have on you, kid.”

Me: “I’ve got a £20 note but need it to get the train home.”

Mugger: “How much is your ticket?”

Me: “‘Bout £8 or £9.”

Mugger: “Oh, that’s all right. I’ve got change.”

He took my £20 and gave me £10 back. Not a bad mugging by any means.

I have translated from Glasweigen regional dialect to Queen’s English for all you folks not lucky enough to be born in the central belt of Scotland.

The Glaswegian version is below.

Mugger: “Haw, mate, aye, goanie gi us yer money!”

Me: “Aw, whit, nae danger pal, ave only goat 20 quid, and that’s fir the train haime, ken?”

Mugger: “You no buy a return?”

Me: “Naw, me mam dropt me aff this mornin’.”

Mugger: “How much’s yer train haime, then?”

Me: “Dunno, ‘bout 8 or 9 quid. Bloody dear like.”

Mugger: “S’aright, pal, ave goat change here.

He whaps oot a 10 spot.

Me: “Eh, all right, then.” *Exchanges money* “Yer patter’s pish, by the wa.”

When I was in university, I got a part time job at a pizza place and ended up working with probably the most stupid person ever to walk the face of the earth. She was asked by a customer which pizza toppings contain pork.

Coworker: “Err… spicy pork? The chicken strips?” *…and after much head-scratching:* “…green pepper?”

Today she is trying to do the rare piece of paperwork:

Coworker: “The stapler is jammed.”

Me: “Then unjam it.”

Coworker: “I don’t know how.”

I unjam it for her and hand it back to her. She proceeds to then test it… on her finger.

Coworker: “Ouch.”

Me: “Why did you do that?”

Coworker: “…I don’t know.”

Worryingly, she left a few months later to work in a lab. I am asking my manager about this:

Me: “Is it true that [Coworker] left to work in a lab?”

Manager: “Yes, to be a lab testing assistant?”

Me: “So… not the lab test subject?”

Manager: “…that sounds more likely.”

I am wandering around the transport museum in Glasgow. I see a woman staring at the ceiling in wonder as I walk by.

Woman: “It’s just beautiful, isn’t it?”

Me: “What are you looking at?”

Woman: “Up! Look at all the twinkling lights. I’ve never seen anything so captivating in my life.”

I look up and see just a plain ceiling.

Me: “Umm, I’m not seeing any twinkling.”

She blinks and looks at me.

Woman: “Oh, I think my retina is detaching again.”

She cackled and wandered off before I could even react. I couldn’t find her after she turned a corner, but I hope she got help quickly!

I did a zombie event like this one in Glasgow, and other than an awkward moment with some confused junkies in a car park the event was a lot of fun.

I did nearly flatten a zombie at one point, though. The actor stepped in front of me when I was sprinting at my top speed, and I couldn’t stop or sidestep.

Apparently, body-slamming zombies is a viable survival strategy. Who knew?!

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