The Last of the Mohicans by Louise McCann
Last Saturday afternoon, I suddenly realised how deprived town drivers really are! Locked into their own company, with eyes glued to the road. But I have to tell you, I no longer feel at a disadvantage by not having a car. No! Getting on a Number 45 Bus has finally changed all that! Life’s a lot more interesting, when you’re able to travel in the company of your fellow Glaswegians.
After boarding the bus over at Bridge Street Underground, I had found myself opting for the really interesting seat. The one directly behind the Retro-Enthusiast. He certainly didn’t look old enough to be a throw-back from the late 70s, so he had to have been inspired by this modern-day passion of reviving bygone eras. There’s been a lot of it about recently.
Being able to sit and study the craftsmanship involved in creating a true Mohican was a real treat. I mean this haircut was magnificent! I really found it heart warming, knowing that Clyde-built standards are not dead and gone. No, they are alive and well. The legacy lives on, and was used to produce a black, four inch high, die-cast, razor sharp, portable work of art. This lad clearly had an eye for meticulous detail, and he was only aided and abetted by some super-strength gel and a triple-mirror.
But, imagine having to sacrifice a good night’s sleep for the sake of your art and appearance! Clearly it would be impossible to sleep on your back wearing that kind of plumage, but I guess there would be an unexpected bonus of its snore-prevention qualities.
Was I perhaps looking at the modern easy-to-care-for version? Maybe self-adhesive? A multi-purpose, brush-style draught excluder? But on closer inspection, I thought not. This was the real thing!
However, I wasn’t the only passenger carrying out a detailed structural inspection. Directly across the aisle from the young Mohican, was the Watcher. He was a man of at least 60 years, with beady little eyes - clearly not the sharpest tool in the box, as they say. With head lowered, he at first only dared to give surreptitious glances. Eventually he grew braver, and then finally giving-in to temptation, he just stared openly. The eagle-eyed Watcher seemed barely able to contain his curiosity at his exotic fellow passenger, and seemed mesmerised.
As all this played out, I found myself starting to lose interest in the Mohican, and becoming transfixed by the hawk-eyed Watcher. With his black crepe soled shoes, heavy weight stone coloured jeans and black shirt, it all seemed a bit unusual for a man of his age. My attention got drawn upwards. The Black Stetson! How had I missed that! It went very nicely with the black leather gunbelt, a typical model for your professional West Coast of Scotland gunslinger, I dare say. With mounting incredulity, I then noted the heavy duty gun holster, containing one very highly polished Colt 45! An impressive specimen, believe you me! I mean Clint Eastwood himself would have been fair chuffed to have been toting this in any Spaghetti Western you care to mention.
What an opportunity, to be travelling alongside Hawkeye and Chingachgook, all kitted-out for ‘The Last of the Mohicans!’
The Wells Fargo Stagecoach may no longer exist, but here in Glasgow, First Bus is certainly delivering the modern 250 horsepower alternative. Perfect for the modern-day cowboy and any returning Mohicans, who want to mosey on down to the city’s Deep South.
See what all you motorists in the outside lane are missing! You’ve nae idea!
Catch the next exciting instalment at a bus stop near you!
