bobbenblog lite

19 degree hail in may

i’ve been away to visit mary-anne this afternoon and got the train home. it was odd because i got on in larkhall and came up to join the old train line i used to use to go from lanark to glasgow, which meets at hamilton west. i must have not been on that line for five years and it was very odd. getting off in the dank depths of argyle street made me feel like i was 15 again, and full of insecurities. the escalator was broken and i had an annonymous stair climbing race with another person. she didn’t look in the least fit and healthy and i wanted to prove something but she had the inside track. it was disorienting coming out because it was a different exit point and i didn’t know which way led to the street and which to the car park behind. it wouldn’t have made much difference through because its been so long that i didn’t know which way to walk when i got off the train which added to my feelings of not fitting. walking outside it looked as though night had come in winter and the brightly lit river island shop sign was far more noticeable against the slate blue-grey sky. it felt very close and rain drops started as i crossed glassford street, big fat ones. they imminently possessed the air and pelted down. first a swathe of rain and then horizontal waves of hail came like slaps to the face. my shoes made the transition from dry to sodden in literally three seconds. i hid in a doorway and noted that the image of the merchant city with a mercedes saloon tip toeing down the newly paved brick road looked more like snow in december than the humid and irrational afteroon of may. as the rain became hail again i left the shelter and went up to ingram street where half way along, as i waited on the side of the road to cross, a man blasted me in the face with one of those hand held horn things from an open-windowed passing car. i crossed the road and imagined his testicles being in a vice and felt better. i struggled with my bag, earphones, dungaree staps and umbrella on the way back and hoped that being worn wet wouldn’t stretch out my toms and make them misshapen. as i came along george street i could see patchy blue sky and upon entering the close the sun was back out. this weather makes me imagine i live in the tropics, with fifteen minute rainstorms, predictable to the second.