Yer patters like watter !

So I’m about to get off the bus, I’m excited because these passengers are about to witness my comedy genius, my Glaswegian wit, the power of wee Marty to turn yer average bus journey into a stage of shear hilarity. What am I about to do?...I’m about to hit them with some Patter.

You can’t beat Glasgow patter its magic & you hear it everywhere pubs, the street, funerals, trains, buses. Sometimes if you’re lucky it’s on the telly.
I can’t remember all the times I’ve witnessed genius patter but here are some memorable ones some classics.

I am walking down a street in Renfrew where there is a whole street renovation happening workies everywhere, cones, barricades, JCBs general chaos. At this time there’s a local general election & here is this cheap suit sickening politician posing for a camera grabbing folk in the street while some young lassie scribbles down his bull shit promises to hopeful voters. As I walk towards him I’m dreading he might grab me & I’m now doing my best to look invisible. Luckily as I get near two workies in full hard hat, high viz vests, rigger boots and bright orange boilers suits walk out the shop. The workies are carrying the essential working lunch…grease soaked poke (paper bag with heated dead cow in pastry), the Sun or the Star, Bottle of Irn bru & ten packets of crisps…..each!! Before they know it they’re approached by MP Hope tae be. “Afternoon lads I see you’re off for lunch I won’t keep you. So what is it you do yourselves exactly?” & here it comes…One of the workies screws up his face looks at his co-worker pal, looks at me, looks himself up and down & says “We’re a couple ‘o’ Serial killers mate in fact we were jist in there mate stabbin boaxes ah corn flakes” the two workies are now in stitches of laughter & so am I. They walk over to the worksite saying to the now red-faced MP who’s trying to laugh off his daft so obvious it could slap you in the face question “here pal ad find a new day job but were no gein up oors” and shouts to one of his workmates driving a digger “here you…your getting stabbed”. Magic!

Another classic was the time I’m waiting for a bus and this wee wuman walks by. She has one of these shopping trolley bag things but hers is a bit posh. It’s got four wheels instead of 2 and is leather with a boxed frame. But the thing is, at first glace it looks like a boxed-in pram kinda like a pram with no opening for the baby. Now this just pops into mind as I glance then I dismiss it but not to the wee man standing outside the pub having a fag with his drinkin buddies “here missus your waine must be a right howler seen is ye huv tae hide it”. Folk are laughing & pointing but the wee wumin is not impressed she says nothing but her scowl says a thousand words.

But here’s me here’s my stop coming up. So up I get, I’m poised & ready, it’s my time to shine to put my mark on the Glasgow patter map. I walk to the front of the bus & there’s a wee man sitting with a new brush/mop pole with an Asda bag wrapped round it & as we approach the stop I hit out with it “here listen yeh better watch that pole mate” he looks up at me & screws up his face & says “how son” I say “coz it’s aff it’s heed” in my head there’s an applause that would make Billy Connelly proud but hey I get a few laughs. But in true Glasgow banter style he laughs & is right back with “here son av bought if fur the wife for mothers day ja think she’ll like it coz am thinking al know where she’ll stick it”.

Ahh the banter.