Hungry.
Added 2024-04-27 19:01:53 +0000 UTCI'd just finished the second night of photographing SAMA Paisley Takeover, and I'd barely eaten all day and I was fucking starving. On my walk home I popped into the local grocery shop to buy some food.
As soon as I stepped through the door, this guy complemented me on my dungarees as he was exiting.
I went on to look for some food, and then I heard "No, no, wait. I gotta go tell him. This stuff can't go unnoticed. Hey, mate! MATE!". I could just feel it. I knew he was coming back for me. He followed me up the aisle and asked if he could show his friends (who he was on a video call with) what I looked like. Err, yeah, sure.
He was wasted, and I was not. I was hungry.
But I always feel compelled to just embrace whatever is happening in situations like this, and just let it happen. He loved my trainers, and he got talking to me about music and recommended some local venues to me to check out.
I casually took his photo.
Then, bizzarely, he went on to tell me about his 'Uncle Jeff'. A musician, and a relatively big player back in the day from how he was talking. He mentioned how Jeff transitioned in the late 70's, but then de-transitioned some years later. He went on to say that as a result of the estrogen Jeff was left with baby soft hands, and adopted the stage name Jeff Ladyhands. I had questions, but this information was coming thick and fast in the way that only a drunk Scot can manage, and I couldn't get a word in edgeways.
Anyway, the shop manager came up the aisle and quietly stated "Sir, we're closed, please leave.".
And that was that, we left.
I didn't catch his name, but more importantly, I didn't get to buy any food.
