Glesga Kiss

it’s hauf past seven, rain’s pure lashin’, she’s dressed in black;
looks like a mourner.
nae umbrella, legs aw splashes, wilma’s waitin
at boots’ corner.
‘cos she’s gaun jiggin’ wae big tam.
she hopes he wulny let her doon.
~~~
just up the road, in the gordon bar,
tam buys a pint, an’ settles doon.
~~~
a quarter-tae, it’s gettin’ dark, she tries tae look,
aw unconcerned.
“see ma -rs-“, she thinks. “it’s freezin. yid think bi noo,
ah widda learnt.”.
all around her, other l-ssies, wait five minutes,
then get met.
~~~
just up the road, in the gordon bar,
tam lights another cigarette.
~~~
it’s just gone eight, tears gettin’ closer. noo it’s dark,
she waits alone.
each girl, in turn, hud met thur dates, hud kissed, embraced, linked erms,
hud gone.
a single tear, droaped fae her cheek, an’ loast itsel,
in aw the rain.
~~~
meanwhile,
in the gordon bar;
“haw darlin’, want the same again?”
~~~
wilma checked her watch, an’ bus-ferr, an’ stepped oot
onti argyle street.
she cursed her luck, the rain, big tam, her leaky shoes,
an’ frozen feet.
as she made her way tae her bus stoap,
wilma trudged – her mascara ran.
~~~
just up the road, in the gordon bar,
tam shout-t, “gie’s another wan!”.
~~~
gently sobbin’. herr aw drippin’. wilma looked up,
through the rain.
“uch, tell me g-d”, she pled aloud. “wull ah ever love a man again?”
when suddenly the rain went aff – as though the clouds
hid aw run dry.
but much merr sudden, a voice behind her;
“aw wilma, c’mon hen; therrs nae need tae cry.”
wilma jumped three fit – her bus-ferr jumped seven,
as wildly she spun ‘roon an’…let oot a shrill laugh:
it was wee danny rennie (a big shot wae ri clennie);
she could see he’d a herrcut an’ been neara bath.
~~~
wilma surveyed’im an’ liked whit she saw therr:
gone wis the long herr that bred tales a’ lice.
nae merr huddi pimples tae frighten a poultice,
“in fact,” wilma thought. “he’s h-lluva nice.”
“eh, wilma… ah hope ye don’t hink ah’m a chancer but,
if yir no’ rushin’ tae git hame thi’night.
wid ye like tae go, eh, furra walk?”
inside wilma glowed.
“well, ah don’t, an’ ah’m no, an’ a would…zat awright?”
~~~
she went home – some hours later,
when the dark had turned light.
~~~
it’s three months later, rain’s pure lashin’, big tam’s dressed,
in his faither’s suit.
he’s at boots’ corner – oan a promise;
wilma phoned, and asked him oot.
wilma says that, she forgives him, an’ she’s sorry for moaning,
aboot his ‘few beers’.
so if he’d like tae wait, he’ll getta surprise, an’ one he’ll remember,
she hopes, fur years.
~~~
just up the road, in the gordon bar,
the glesses were raised all ‘roon the room.
as danny, kissed wilma, the people applauded,
and toasted:…”the bride anni groom!”.

monty bing

translation and notes for non-scots out there:

glesga kiss – in it’s purest and original sense: ‘to headb-tt aka ‘stick the heid oan’ but here, of course, a kiss is
a kiss is a kiss.
pure lashin’- pure = very much, in copious amounts..
“haw baw-heid! a’hm gauny pure stick the heid oan ye if ye don’t stoap pure bammin’ me up!”.
“hey, you fellow there with the rotund face that momentarily reminded one of a soccer ball,
should one be so disinclined to cease ones tomfool raillery; then one will have no choice but
to perform a ‘glasgow kiss’ on one. one can only surmise that ones incessant fleering will
abate forthwith post-kiss.”.
boots’ corner- the corner of argyle st/union st in glasgow where boots the chemist once stood (now a kfc)
where generations of glasgows would-be lovers would arrange to meet…and
occasionally suffer the humiliation of being stood up. personally, the ‘heilanman’s umbrella’,
the area under the central station bridge, offered more in way of shadows to stand in when it became
clear she wasn’t coming.
“aye…the games-a-bogey wee man, it’s hauf-past 12. yiv missed the late bus noo!”.
jiggin’ – dancing…but modern – not a highland jig.
could have been to the famous barrowlands ballroom at’the barras’ flea-market,
or to enjoy the grand opulence of the plaza ballroom.
“wherr ur we gaun tae?
‘ower tae ra plaza… hope yiv goat yer dancin’ shoes oan hen?’
‘aye… so ah huvny! ma feet ur still pure loupin’ fae the last time ye goat bevvied-up an tried tae
dae ra alley-cat tae englebert hingmyboabs’ last waltz. so ah’m wearin’ ma sannies so ah kin jump oot
yir road when ye start yir birlin’ aboot.”.
hen – slang for a young woman or girl – both strangers and family/friends.
often gives rise to the pithier retort:
“if ah’m a hen, then you’re a duck.
ah lay eggs an you lay muck,
an you’re the wan tae clean it up!”.
much like ‘jim or jimmy when addressing a strange man esp. over 25, and usually for a light or the time.
not used when addressing friends/family… unless their name is jim strangely enough.
“is jimmy comin’ oot mrs mcclutchie?”.
“ah’ve telt you afore… therr’s nae jimmy stays here. therr’s a james though…? will ah get him fur ye?
“aye… okay mrs… is it awright iffy brings jimmy’s baw…?”.
hen has, for some time now, been vying with ‘doll’ for top spot in the glesga-vocabu-lothario.
the clennie – pet name for the munic-p-l dept of cleansing, glasgow city council.
oan a promise- the presumption that tonight might be the night – given the serious amount of kissing (winchin,
snoggin, nippin etc.) that went on during the last date.
more often than not ends with the big yin/wee man theatrically projecting the nights’ intake of
imported beer/super-lager over the steps of the kebab shop/chippy steps.
“if you think ah’m gauny kiss that mooth efter watchin it launch electric soup… you kin take a
run up ma humph. go an ask that polis fur a hankie.”.

it’s half-past seven, the rain is lashing, she’s dressed in black,
looks like a mourner.
no umbrella, legs all splashes, wilma’s waiting at boots’ corner
because she’s going dancing with big tam.
she hopes he will not let her down
~~~
just up the road, in the gordon bar,
tam buys a pint, and settles down.
~~~
it’s quarter-to, it’s getting dark, she tries to look quite unconcerned.
“my b-tt”, she thinks. “it’s freezing. you would think by now i would have learned.”.
all around her, other girls, wait five minutes, then are met.
~~~
just up the road, in the gordon bar,
tam lights another cigarette.
~~~
it’s just turned eight, she’s close to tears. now it’s dark.
she waits alone.
each girl, in turn, had met their dates, had kissed,
embraced,linked arms, had gone.
a single tear dropped from her cheek, and lost itself
in all the rain.
~~~
meanwhile,
in the gordon bar;
“so honey, you want the same drink again?”.
~~~
wilma checked her watch, and bus-fare, and stepped out onto
argyle street.
she cursed her luck, the rain, big tam, her leaky shoes,
and frozen feet.
as she made her way to her bus stop,
wilma trudged – her mascara ran.
~~~
just up the road, in the gordon bar,
tam shouts, “give me another one!.”.
~~~
gently sobbing, hair dripping-wet, wilma looked up
through the rain.
“oh, tell me g-d;”, she pled aloud. “will i ever love a man again?”.
when suddenly the rain just stopped –
as if the clouds had all run dry.
but more sudden than that,
a voice spoke behind her…
“hey wilma, come-come now there’s no need to cry…”.
wilma jumped three feet – her bus-fare jumped seven –
as she spun round wildly and…let out a shrill laugh:
it was daniel, her neighbour, and local road-sweeper
(once known for his fervent avoidance of baths).
~~~
but wilma surveyed him and liked what she saw there:
gone was the long hair that had bred tales of lice.
no more had he pimples so big they’d scare poultices.
“in fact,” wilma thought. “he looks awfully nice.”.
“um, wilma… i hope you don’t think that i’m cheeky by asking,
but, if you’re in no great hurry to get home tonight…,
would you like to go, um, for walk with me?”.
inside, wilma glowed.
“well; i don’t, and i’m not, and i would…that alright?”.
~~~
she went home – some hours later,
when the dark had turned light.
~~~
it’s three months later, rain is heavy. big tam’s
dressed in his father’s suit.
he’s at boots’ corner – expecting ‘afters’ –
wilma phoned and asked him out.
wilma said that she forgives him and is sorry for moaning
about his ‘few beers’.
so if he’d like to wait, he’ll get a ‘surprise’… one he’ll remember,
she hopes, for years.
~~~
just up the road, in the gordon bar,
the gl-sses are raised all around the room.
as danny kisses wilma, the people applaud
and toast… “to the bride and the groom!”.

monty bing
see notes on translation
glasgow slang for headb-tt – see also glasgow kiss
ahm gonna gee ya a glesga kiss