We sent someone to Glasgow once, they never came back. Rumour has it they're stuck on the underground, circling around Maryhill. Anyway, read this letter sent to SPT.

Dear SPT

Driving is my forté and I am proud of that fact. But, when I go somewhere were I am unfamiliar with the layout, I prefer to use public transport. I haven't had much luck with it in the past, but I thought that over a year later and a different area would change all that. How could I be so wrong?

I arrived in Glasgow at around half past seven in the evening. I had my route planned out and I knew where I was going, I had arranged to meet my friends at their station. I thought my journey was going to be quick and I would get to see River City at 8 o'clock. This was not going to happen. I arrived at Central Station and headed for the underground platform. I had to this stage managed to avoid the following: 3 Big Issue vendors, 6 homeless persons of varying description, 2 Evening Times vendors (it would have been three, but I bought a copy outside of the Royal Concert Hall) and was now in the confines of Central Station.

The underground platform was fairly empty, apart from: a bespectacled male in his twenties, a forty-something female and a mobile phone, two homeless people and a drunken male. The bespectacled male; for the purposes of this letter we'll call him Calum, (I don't know if this was his real name as I don't have a habit of approaching strange men) was standing,  looking both ways up the track expecting the arrival of the train. The forty-something female (for the purposes of this letter her name will be Karen) was pacing up and down the platform continually verbally abusing the person on the receiving end of the mobile phone. The two homeless people (Jack and Jim) were watching the stairway like eagles, for what reason? I have no idea. And the drunk male (aptly named Tam) was sitting on the bench talking to himself. So that's the scene set and you know who I am referring to when I mention their nom de plume.

I stood waiting for a train, approximately ten foot from Calum, and far enough away from Karen who was getting angrier by the second (it was also apparent that the person she was talking to was her husband, his name was James.) I was then approached by Jack, who asked me for "spare change." I felt sorry for him, so I parted with the sum of fifty pence. He seemed grateful and left. He must have told Jim about my generous donation, as he (Jim) approached me next with the same request. I again parted with another fifty pence. So, we are this far and I am already one pound out of pocket. About five minutes passed before we are given the first three words to 'I belong to Glasgow' courtesy of Tam, who shouted the lyrics fairly loudly before succumbing to what can only be described as a farting noise. It was at this point that I exchanged a glance with Calum, as we both smiled, we knew it was one of those nights.

Karen was getting more frustrated as time went on, it was at this point she realised she had had enough, before throwing her mobile phone at the wall. Thus fatal action rendering the phone to be useless and also scattering various shrapnel onto the track. She then stormed off the platform and up the stairs. This was the last we saw of her.

Tam, now under the influence that he was Rod Stewart, began to serenade us with 'Maggie May', substituting every occasional word for a slightly more random crude choice. He was also accusing his invisible friend, who must have had a lot to drink as he was swaying worse than Tam, of stealing his chips. How did he do this? By uttering the words "Don't steal ma chips boy." Jack and Jim were playing mind games with each other, before Jim nipped to the side of the stairwell to urinate. Calum was repeatedly checking his watch, and looking both ways.

I had been waiting for almost half an hour and no trains had passed. I was going to phone my friend to let her know I was going to be late, when; lo and behold, the train arrived. I was so happy I got on and luckily it was fairly empty. Calum then got onto the same carriage as myself and sat down at the other end. Tam, who could barely walk, slumped down in the seat behind me. I knew this as my seat was slightly loose and was almost pulled off the bracket when he grabbed onto it.

I decided to move.

The train was winding its way along the track towards my stop when, out of nowhere, Jim appeared asking for more change. I told him nicely that I was out of change. To which he replied with "Gie us a tenner then." I said no and stared into the blackness. Thankfully the next stop was mine. I got up and made my way to the door, to be confronted by Jack who asked me, "Why ye no giein ma mate money?" He was blocking the doorway when the train stopped. I thought I was going to be mugged, or even worse. That was until Calum, who was also getting off at that stop and managed to remove Jack from the doorway. I stepped off the train and onto the platform and turned around to thank Calum for being the hero. He was nowhere to be seen.

I walked up the stairs with my copies of the Evening Times and Big Issue visible so I wouldn't be accosted any further. Luckily the genuine Big Issue vendor at the top of the stairs noticed this, and even asked me if I was ok before bidding me a good night. That is one of the reasons why I buy the Big Issue from genuine vendors and the ones who have a polite attitude towards the public. I then met my friend, and we went back to her house.

I doubt I'll use the underground at this time of night again, although this might be unavoidable. I had to share my experiences with the governing body for this railway.

Sent on behalf of a friend

They never replied.