Through West

Up to Shandon for our exclusive minibus service to Glasgow - straight to Shawlands and a place called the Pig and Butterfly (I mean, really?) which actually dishes up a reasonable breakfast, though four pints of their fizzy lager does leave me somewhat burpacious.
So, to the game. Incident at the turnstiles: group of three in front of us contain a pissed bloke that they’re trying to smuggle through. Steward at adjoining turnstiles shouts over - he’s drunk, he’s no getting in. Woman steward at our turnstiles says, eh? What? His pals turn on full, "it’s ok, he’s fine, trust me, he’s fine." They successfully hustle him through with glee. She looks traumatised and says aloud to no one in particular, ma anxiety levels are through the roof. Maybe not her ideal job, right enough. It’s a tough old world.
In fact, at the end, after witnessing ninety minutes of anxiety, the whole team traipse off in a traumatised manner. Maybe they should also consider alternative employment.
As for us, that minibus took us straight back to, well, The Diggers actually. And there was a pub quiz!