Falling in love with a Glaswegian seems to have hastened a slow burning love for his home town. Whilst I can honestly say Glasgow just isn’t as fair and pretty as gentile Edinburgh, every time I travel through on Shit-rail I find myself starting to entertain that it really is ‘smiles better’.

Glasgow is the Agent Provocateur (dirty, naughty, and ready for nights of bad behaviour) to Edinburgh’s Marks & Spencers control pants (you will look fab on the outside, but never be able to let yourself go). I know what I prefer.

Anyway, debating the delights of Scotland’s seedier west coast isn’t the point of this post, but it is necessary for setting the scene, as on Saturday night, whilst in Glasgow, I got a bit of a shock.

It’s a known fact that Taxi drivers the world over like to talk; but arguably the best taxi driver chat in the world belongs to the Glaswegians. (It’s an experience not to be missed). Anyways, in the back of one such taxi on the way to the see Lily Allen on Saturday night, whilst the Boy and the driver were discussing the merits of the lovely Lily (complete with rude hand movements) I bemoaned the fact that I didn’t know half the bands on his radio anymore.

This, according to the driver was because I didn’t have any children; that children keep you young, fresh and hip with the music of today (although he did admit that he knew all the words to the Singing Kettle, and that their lyrics tended to be better than the recent load of drivel in the charts). And then, out of the mouth of my gorgeous (but laddish) toyboy came the immortal words, the kind of words that once said cant be taken back, the kind that makes you start to channel Natasha Beddingfield songs.

“we’ve been debating this”

He wasn’t talking about the Singing Kettle.

The taxi driver winked wryly at him in the mirror, started to joke about “oh women what are they like” only to be put straight that it was me that needed to be persuaded, not him. At this point my head went into such a spin I almost fell off the seat.

I’m still not sure i heard it right, and i’ve not dared to talk about it since. But what the hell the butterflies i’ve been having ever since mean… i don’t know.

Kx