The scene is Pollokshaws Road. (That’s the South Side). After midnight.
Me: Oh, please no. Please don’t throw that in there.
The refuse collector throws the clerical collar into the refuse truck and turns.
Refuse Collector #1: What pal?
Me: Oh, that’s mine, it dropped out of my pocket and you picked it up with the other rubbish and threw it in.
Refuse Collector #1: What is it, anyway?
Me: Oh, its a clerical collar. Er…I’m a priest.
I do a brief but elegent mime, the better to explain what a clerical collar is.
Refuse Collector #1: Oh, don’t worry, I’ll get it. I’ll have to climb into the truck though.
An attempt is made to climb into the truck.
Refuse Collector #2: What is it, what’s he lost?
The first refuse collector mumbles something and repeats the earlier mime.
Refuse Collector #1: Here, I’ll get it with the picker-up.
He produces a device, reaches into the refuse truck, retrieves the collar and hands it back.
Refuse Collector #1: Here it is pal. Oh…..well….you could wash it, I guess.
Delighted to see the south side living up to expectations again 🙂
There is BTW no “c” in Pollokshaws – you’re using the Edinburgh spelling!
Thank you Father, I’ve corrected it.
Indeed, I had thought that I had corrected it just after writing it but that obviously didn’t take.
There has to be a story as to why someone’s clerical collar would fall out of their pocket after midnight. Mind you I don’t know Glasgow very well.
I think, Agatha, it must have something to do with fairy godmothers…
There’s a whole retelling of the Cinderella story to be had, isn’t there?
Ah well. Some day my prince will come.