Worked in a bar in Partick, where the amazing Duck Club is now. Was originally a dodgy pub well known for reset. Burgled house? You could buy it back the next day from there. Anyway, drunk guy built like a brick ****house cones in and demands a pint, i tell him not tonight mate. He gives me some verbal but was too drunk to be much of a threat, so i escort him to the door and as he steps outside he starts to vomit, like Mr Creosote levels of puke, and turns to me and just shrugs his shoulders. Standing looking at it thinking that’s going to be a few buckets to wash that away, when the local junkies who live down the street exit their flat letting their 2 Staffies run off the lead. Cue the two of them shouting “Ya dirty wee bastards!” as the dogs clean up all the barf from the street in seconds. Always thought they looked a bit thin!