Like much of Europe the sun has come barreling of of nowhere, shaking it's big golden fists at us all like a big school bully.
Which is normally magic.
But if you have to work, it's shit.
Today, I was working.
In a stuffy office where the air-conditioning could be described as ropey at best.
Meanwhile, outside, people frolicked in the golden rays. Drinking beer and fighting with great passion on the Glasgow streets.
Some folk were chatting about the weather where I sat, one of them, Travisty was squawking loudly.
...and don't you just hate it when it's sunny and everyone thinks is fine to get their feet out!
He crowed.
The few onlookers looked at him blankly because no, it wasn't funny.
I raised an eyebrow.
I quite like wearing flip flops in the sun. No bad thing.
I said with a slightly crooked smile that suggested not only was I handsome and dashing but my feet were too.
Yeah, but that's fine...
Said Travisty hesitating a little.
I mean, like all these women, they just get their feet out at the drop of a hat!
We all looked at him as if he were a penis made of marzipan.
Well, you know. Maybe it's just you?
I said gently worried that he might break.
No it's not just me! Am I right?
He looked about for support but there didn't seem to be any.
I mean my wife... She wears sandals all the time.
He trailed off lamely.
And that's bad because?...
I asked.
Well, I mean... She's got bigger feet than me!!
He blurted out somewhat manically.
There was an awkward silence which eventually I broke.
Your wife has bigger feet than you?
I said, a quiet in my voice as if hoping he would recant.
Yeah!! Funny isn't it!!
Travisty shrilled.
He looked around desolately.
I shook my head pityingly.
No mate. That's not funny. That's not funny at all.