On my last day some guy from Glasgow Works came and had a meeting with some of us.  He wanted to know how we’d been finding the project and how we had been treated.  I never said very much until Mark started going on about Paul and the way he treats people.  Almost all of us around the table agreed and the guy seemed surprised that someone who’s employed to simply do admin us basically acting like a line manager.  I said how pathetic it is that he tells us not to read newspapers.  I mean, what the fuck?  So, the guy made some notes and said he would ‘address the issues’.. Good.  I hoped Paul got his knuckles rapped because the way he treated some people was ridiculous.  I had a beer at lunchtime in the Scotia bar which is the oldest pub in Glasgow.  It’s really folky and people just bring instruments and play, at all times of day.  They had a power failure in the kitchen so my veggie burger and chips did not arrive.  I got my money back, though.   Some guy was having a drink with his nephew who he hadn’t seen for years.  He (the nephew) was up visiting from England and the guy told me (when his nephew was at the bar) that he couldn’t understand a word he was saying! Some guy called David  from the post office rang me and asked if I could do overtime that night, even though I wasn’t due to start until the Sunday night (two days later) but I said no.  I’d been up since 6am, and wanted to go out for a drink and go back to my mum’s house the next day. I packed up some stuff which was mine (and some stuff which wasn’t!) in my Thresher wine shop plastic bag. TO BE CONTINUED