Maryhill, where i park my meat, is a kinda rough area of Glasgow. The surrounding pubs reflect this fact being somewhat down and out and cheap. Perfect, right? In some circumstance yes but if you wanna get out of the house and do a little writing you know, breathe the fumes of humanity, get a change of scenary, you are faced with a problem. Its the kind of activity that attracts attention in pubs where karaoke in the highlight of the week. People are gonna make assumptions. People are gonna get curious. These things are not neccessarily conducive to the act of writing. They are however conducive to the topic of a certain Elton John song and fuck me if it ain’t saturday.

About 15/20 minutes walk away from where I live is Glasgow’s fabled West End. Fabled because it is considered considerably up market; filled with classy eateries, drinkeries and ice cream parlours. Much better places for the writerly to lurk. Well, somewhat. People aren’t going to pay much attention to a solitary figure scrawling away. Not in an area with such a high affluent student population. The problem is that it is too far the other way. It’s too wealthy, too classy. It’s too pretentious. I can’t get comfortable.

I am not a classy soul.

I can pass muster. I knows my ps and my qs, but i don’t fit. Not here.

Not there either.

Why can’t there be somewhere in between? A shitty pub in Maryhill with a decent jukebox and booths to hide away in?

Or maybe I should stop being so fussy about where I write.