The red warnings were out. Storm Euoqewwn was officially hitting the fair city of Glasgow.
Storm Euoqewwn, an odd name for a storm. It might seem hard to pronounce but you just clear your throat as if you have a lot of phlegm and whinny at the end. Boom, that's you said it. Easy.
We were sent home from work half an hour early to batten down the hatches. This was a generous move from our employer as normally they would rather see us die in a storm than lose money.
However, as it is no longer the 1980's they couldn't throw us on the fire as easily as they used to and off we went, scurrying into the burgeoning gale thanking our benevolent overlords for their mercy.
The winds were forecast to get up to 100 miles an hour. It would be fair to say that no one had ever seen such wind anywhere in the entire world before. How would we cope?
It was already getting a bit whippy outside.
I crossed the bridge as the horrific storm made the collar of my jacket flap slightly.
People were running to and fro in terror. Screams echoed through the city as the powerful winds ripped along the city streets blowing the occasional crisp packet up into the air.
I just about made it to the train station with my life. Outside it people wept as they tried to inhale their vapes and cigarettes only for the cruel storm to whip the nicotine delight straight out of their mouths and into the maddening ether.
After a train ride that more resembled a roller coaster in a wind tunnel of hell, I arrived at my home on the outskirts of the city.
The Good Lady Whatsapped me.
Oh my god, I dont think we have enough Prosecco?
I gritted my teeth, times of apocalypse like this were never going to be easy.
Stay strong baby. I will go into the dark and stormy night and provide for our family.
Not for the first time I wished I had a gun. Not to protect myself but to rob and kill other night travellers as it seemed like a good opportunity to do so under the cover of the storm.
Grimly I pushed through the wind's hellish onslaught to the Supermarket where it seemed like every other Scottish person had also discovered they didn't have enough booze in to survive a hurricane like this.
Then it was a short slog through the howling chaos of wind and rain to get home. Inwardly I lamented the lack of football being played on the playing fields. Damn this storm. Truly no one has it as hard as us Scots.
Eventually, I made it home where no one gave a fuck that I had battled my way through the elements to be with them.
My Whatsapp pinged again. It was my mate, Daz.
Dude, winds getting up a bit, fancy coming up mine and drinking tonnes of beer?
I looked at his phone in disbelief? Why hadn't he offered this earlier, fucking hell. I almost had my slippers on.
Off to Daz's love, for a bit of storm watching.
I shouted to the Good Lady.
The car purred approvingly as I got in and started it up, pulling out into the road.
Turbo boost KITT, there's beer to be had.
