The minor inconveniences of the Commonwealth Games in Glasgow are making a daily mockery of my self-image as a patient man with a decent sense of perspective.
Argue with me and I’ll almost certainly get on your tits by trying to see things from twenty points of view at once, even as I try to work up twenty more reasons why each of those positions are shite.
Drop me in an anti-social interview and I’ll keep my Captain Reasonable hat on even while chairs fly and swearwords heat up the room until it’s fit to curdle your balls.
Ask me to use a different exit at the train station from the one I normally use and I’ll spend the next ten minutes complaining about a sixty second inconvenience.
The point being that however much I might want to pretend that I’m not a huffy wee arsehole, I definitely am!
As the lovely Holly M. said when I voiced these worries elsewhere, "We’re all a toothache, a microaggression, an inconvenience away from monstrosity."
[THE PHOTO AT THE TOP OF THIS POST SHOWS A SCOTRAIL CARRIAGE WHERE ALL THE LIGHTS HAVE WENT OFF - I’VE EXPERIENCED THIS A COUPLE OF TIMES SINCE THE GAMES STARTED AND THEY ADDED MORE CARRIAGES TO SOME JOURNIES, BUT THE PHOTO OF THIS PARTICULAR INCIDENT WAS TAKEN BY LINDSAY MCMILLAN.]