remote cards

I’m having a quick bite to eat, sitting by the window, and I glance out the window, which looks out into lane. There is a Chinese guy, coming out a side door – I think there is a Chinese restaurant just at the front. He waves a hand, then holds up a finger – ONE! I glance around, surely he isn’t indicating to me, so who is he? But no one by me even notices him. I glance back, as he approaches the car parked right in front of the window, which is when I realise there is a Chinese girl sitting in it. She gets out and they exchange words. She is dressed in a grey top, long sleeved, with a baggy front, which hangs loose so that you can see that she is a more fitting white top underneath. She is wearing grey black jeans, and brown black cowboy boots. She slips the boots off, leaning against the back door, chucking them into the back seat, as she slips on smart flat soled shoes. Slipping off the lemon yellow socks which she wore with the boots isn’t wearing with the shoes. (This is the second time this weekend I’ve seen a girl changing shoes in the street, something which I’ve actually seen with some frequency – the night before girl was changing from flat soled flip flops, into higher heeled strappy shoes for going out.) Then it’s into the boot, pulling out jackets, a flask, a couple of bars of some kind of Kinder snack, and clutching cinema tickets. A polished metal flask, small sized one, maybe a couple of small cups worth, a curious thing to see someone carrying to the cinema on a summer night. They juggle these between them as they get ready, he watches her pull on a smart black jacket, then she takes the stuff back. He is wearing jeans, with a key chain hanging, and a blue t-shirt with some mass produced design on it, as he pulls the boot of the car down I’m conscious of his biceps, this guy works out. With the chocolate in her pocket, the flask in one hand, tickets in other hand, she exits the alley and heads round corner to cinema. He pulls on his crumpled green jacket, and follows.

Labels: cinema, flask, girl, glasgow, guy, muscle, shoes

Two girls wander down the street together. T-shirts, brown hair, tied back. Sunglasses propped on their heads. Shorts and flat trainers. One has purple shirt and purple socks. The other bright orange shirt and socks. They walk slowly, looking back at the man feeding the birds. He sits on the stub end of the entrance to Buchanan St Underground. Me in middle, three kids to my right, him to my left. A plastic container of chips and cheese. He flicks contributions to the pigeons, a dozen vying for scraps. Till a seagull swoops down, throwing his weight around, twice the size of any of the other birds, it snaps down the biggest portion in one bite. Two friends stop to talk to the guy, so the seagull gets bored and wanders off. But the pigeons are persistent and wait for the friends to wander off. Once he is finished eating, he puts the tray down and the pigeons fire in at every scrap of cheese, a dozen pecking enthusiastically. The boys wander off, and are replaced by a passing blonde girl. Big curls and sunglasses. A white floaty skirt. Her shoes are thick soled, clumpy. She slips them off, puts on the first sticking plaster which is already in her hand, then pulls out a couple more from her bag. Plasters in place, she continues on her way. By then, all the cheese is gone, the last half of the pigeons wander in circles waiting to see if anything else happens. The guy lights a cigarette and strolls away.

Labels: blonde, cheese, chips, glasgow, kids, man, pigeons, plasters, shoes