Sour Puss

Another thing - the sour-faced people on the checkout in Morissons. I don't mean all the people. Most seem to be very pleasant "older ladies" all of whom are polite, friendly and welcoming. No, it's those other scunners. The spotty young ones. And again, I really mean the boys and young men rather than the marginally-less-sullen girls and young women. I don't ask for much, you know. I'm not looking for lifetime companionship from them. But if I say hello, I want a hello back. not a grunt as they see how fast they can pass a blurred barcode over the scanner. And I don't want my shopping thrown at me - I bruise. And I don't want my change and my receipt crumpled in my hand as he turns to the next victim. I've paid my money, I want my 3 to 3.5 seconds to balance the bags on my arms, back and head before Young Cretin starts throwing Poor Mrs Next in the Queue's frozen chicken at my shins. You know what I do? I tell them how rude they've been. Staggers them that someone speaks up. Now that, surely is a job for one of the "older ladies" if ever there was one...

Food

Another thing - food. Why has Scott's not managed to bankrupt the other restaurants in Troon? I'd talk about the Loans Inn, but that deserves its own day for vitriol. Many of Troon's cafes and restaurants remain the last refuges of the bland boiled vegetable. And it appears we put up with this. I'd go on about how great Scott's is, but that would spoil my foul mood. I would get no joy in describing how they manage to combine great service, location and food. And it's not that expensive. Mind you, it's a short walk out of the town centre. Maybe that's how it avoids the Pox of the Over-boiled Vegetable. I'm quite able to over-boil my own spuds, thanks very much.

I suppose there's the Chinese places. They're okay (I'm not sure two-day-old boiled carrots are really that Chinese anyway). The Italian on Portland Street? Ai, ai, ai. Make sure you thank them for the table, it's been a real inconvenience to let you have it. And can you hurry up and get out, please? We may have FAMOUS people coming to eat here.

The owners of Scott's are opening a new place on West Portland Street. Perhaps they could accidently knock down a few other places as they get building? Even if it turns out to be crap, it would still be a better, more welcoming and professional crap than many of the other Troon troughs. The word "eatery" was made for these places. They don't deserve "cafe" or "restaurant". Reminds me of the people that call women "females"...

Back to the Front etc

Another thing. Troon, down at the front. What's so difficult or expensive about sorting it out? That paddling pool - who took the inspired decision to fill in half of it? Does that prevent half the drunks jumping into half of it when it doesn't have its half of water? Why can't we shove some mud and seeds in it and have grass? Looks like the rooms in my house I put off painting, I get to tolerate the absurdity of the half-painted walls. But then I'm not trying to attract tourists to my loo.

And the graffiti on the shelters. Has nobody thought of calling the local schools in Troon, Dundonald and Prestwick and asking if they have anyone there called "Big Davie" who has ever been seen canoodling with "Crazy Angie". Is that beyond our shared-between-the-local-stations policepersons?

And why does the sea have to be so cold? Is this the result of a Tory council?

Troon to be Paved Over

Much shock and horror in The Troon Times about plans to build 45 million new homes in the fields in the north of the town. Incomers are expected to be dirty poor people and certainly not the people who we're used to. Rumours are going round that these hideous people will drop litter, clog our pavements with their reckless walking activities and generally make our lives hell. The underlying tone of The Troon Times is that these bastards should find some rock somewhere (preferably the far side of Irvine) to plant their tents and LEAVE OUR TOWN ALONE.

Of course, the average age of the Troon resident is 114, so waiting a few years should mean there are a few more houses available.

Bloody people.

Troon in Glasgow

I'm originally Glaswegian. I met a Scot in Spain a few years ago, I asked him where he was from. He said "Glasgow". Presumably he didn't think I had a Glasgow accent. I asked him where in Glasgow he was from. "Erm, Troon". So there you are, Troon in Glasgow. I'm sure there's a long and sad story behind this man's reluctance to admit where he's from. Perhaps he said Troon to cover up that he's really from Dundonald..?

This is My Troon

And another thing. The Troon Business Association. Lovely. No idea what they're at. I gave up on Troon businesses. Went to the greengrocers on Portland Street. Over-priced minimalist choice. Fair enough for a small shop. But the service was off-hand and snooty. Never went back. And the shoe repair shop. I unwisely asked if they could repair my briefcase. The short version of what he said was "No". The long version was "No, I can't". And the printers? Oh yes. I wanted business cards, complements slips, headed notepaper. They take my name, take my details, say they'll get back to me with a quote. And nobody ever does. And that was two different, unconnected printers in Troon. So I spend my money elsewhere.

Bloody communists.