Omicron City

[smokingboot]

The rules in Scotland are slightly different for music events and night clubs. Got to have table service, tables must be 2 metres apart, folk should be masked when they go to the bar, bouncers or front of house are meant to check your covid passport. Still, we're OK with all that, so had booked tickets to hear some live music in a place we'd never been to before.

Wow. No bouncers, no covid passport checks, table service comprised of someone coming around and picking up used glasses, and tables necessarily close together cos the place isn't spacious. We came in and found ourselves like strangers entering a saloon. There was not one single mask being worn anywhere in the place.

Perhaps we should have turned around and left then, but it wasn't crowded - at first. Then it was. Then the music started, a guy with a good voice and some guitar skills singing his own material and covers too. He was good, but his special gift was for knowing what the audience wanted and not being precious about it. He started singing and they joined in, banging the tables, stamping on the floor, clapping hands, all spilling their lungs into the air. He had come across from Glasgow and some fans had followed him, dancing in front of the stage. Everybody wanted a party and by god they were having one. We found ourselves suddenly acquainted with John James and Lorraine, who told us how quiet Glasgow was and spoke of the Tequila Rose behind the bar. This stuff is basically alcohol enhanced strawberry milk, dangerously easy to neck. The party carried on longer than we did. It was a warm friendly crowd and we left feeling cheered.

But by god, if we didn't catch Omicron last night, I swear it's avoiding us.