After the flitting last week, I had an old microwave and a duvet long past its best taking up most of the boot of the car so before we could start doing our book run for Elder Park Library today, Alex and I dropped in at Shieldhall Recycling Centre - or the dump as we used to call it. We parked across the road and carried the stuff in. As soon as we appeared, he heard a guy in a hi-viz vest shouting. You know the kind of Glasgow shout: Haw! followed by a piercing whistle.
I'm used to the dump at Greenhags in Newton Mearns, which is not the friendliest of places (I once wrestled a table into the boot of the car and wrestled it out again at Greenhags and struggled to take it to the area marked 'Wood' watched by 3 grown men in uniform who made it clear they were not up for helping me in any way). At Shieldhall, I expected us to be flung out or sent elsewhere or just told off.
I decided to stay shtoom and let Alex do the talking. The conversation was short and sweet:
- Is this aw yiz huv goat?
- Aye
- Right, gie us that (the duvet) and jist leave that there (the microwave) - Ah'll get it.
We thanked hi-viz man profusely and left him to it.
I don't know if all Glasgow's dumps are as welcoming or if we just met a nice guy, but Greenhags, take note: It's nice to be nice.
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