f4f3 | I Shake the Hand that Shook the Hand that Shook The World. Sort of.

Or politics Scotland style. I was at The Fort in Easterhouse today for lunch with my friend Paul, a typical mall that's been dropped on Easterhouse in an attempt to hit some poverty (not a terribly hard thing to do). I'd forgotten that Easterhouse was in the Glasgow East constituency until I spotted a gaggle of campaigners, and realised that Scotland's First Minister was dropping sound-bites to the media scrum (quite a small scrum).
I had a wee chat with the campaign manager (we had a friend in common) while Paul studied Alec Salmond's back with Terrible Purpose. I liked the campaign manager a lot, and we shared a bit of gossip, then Scotland's First Minister (our Prime Minister) turned away from the press, and Paul leaped forward. He grabbed Mr Salmond's shoulder from behind, shouting "Alec! Alec!", told him he wanted to shake his hand, and commended him on doing a good job.
Alec thanked him, and we wandered off. With an SNP balloon.
It was only when I was sitting in Paul's car that I realised that no one had thrown him to the ground, cuffed him, and either unloaded a cap in our ass or taken us to a very private prison.
I do like living in Scotland.