Читать книгу Surprisingly Down to Earth, and Very Funny - Limmy - Страница 20

Things just kept on getting better.

When I was about 14, I went back down to Millport with my mum. I don’t know why, there was nobody there, and I had pals back in Glasgow. I probably fancied going to the arcades to play some games. In Millport, they didn’t chuck you out for being under 18 like they did back home.

I went out for a walk, I turned a corner, and walking towards me was one of my pals from Glasgow. An actual guy I hung about with. That was a first. I couldn’t believe my eyes.

I was like, ‘No fucking way. What are you doing here?’

He was like, ‘What are you doing here? Since when did you come to Millport?’

I asked him the same thing. We stood there astonished. I was delighted to see him. He wasn’t one of my best mates, but he was one of the crowd of folk I hung about with.

I asked him what he was up to, and he told me he was on his way to meet up with some folk he knew, and I should come along.

Too fucking right.

I went along, and there was a big squad of people, hanging about. About 20 guys and lassies, having a carry-out, having a laugh. All pals. I got introduced to them all, and they all seemed decent, all welcoming, mostly working class but with a few posher voices, from around Glasgow or Paisley or Greenock or somewhere nearby. It was fucking excellent.

There was a lassie I fancied, and we got chatting. And I got off with her that very night. The next night, the lassie got off with somebody else, and I was disappointed. But then the night after, I got off with somebody else as well.

It felt like the swinging 60s to me.

Then more people came to Millport, and I’d get introduced to them. Then more. More lassies, more guys. And it would be me doing the introducing. I came right out my fucking shell, so I did.

I mean, I’d already come out my shell from primary school, and I had pals back in Glasgow, but this was different. This wasn’t a wee crowd of five or six of us floating about, like back home. In Millport there were dozens of us, and everybody was nice, or funny, or cool, or laid back. Everybody was brand new, everybody was on holiday, everybody was in the mood for a laugh. We’d all be coming out with patter, telling stories, or saying out-of-order stuff, it was fucking magic.

I came down again and again for years, during the summer holidays and every other holiday available. In summer I’d be there for eight weeks or something, and it felt like the sun was shining every day, and it felt like every night was a Saturday.

Tons of fucking pals, tons of decent people, no shady cunts. And tons of lassies. You know how there were boys in school that used to lie about what they got up to on holiday, they’d talk about these lassies they were with, or a girlfriend they had up at their granny’s bit? It was like that, except it was actually happening.

It was a brilliant fucking time. I used to look back on it and miss it, how carefree it was. I even made a sketch about it in Limmy’s Show.

So see all that stuff I was saying about the primary school years, about being alone, and those boys that said, ‘We don’t want to play with you any more’?

Forget it.