Einstein sweeps the floor

Einstein sweeps the floor

He was called Albert but most folk knew him as Einstein. He acquired
the name when he worked as a maths teacher at the old grammar school on
the Alexandria Parade. Apparently, he had a head for figures in more
ways than one and those who knew him back then would say that he could
charm the birds out of the trees. In fact, he was all set to tie the
knot with some blonde bombshell from the Southside when Mr. Hitler
intervened and turned Einstein's world inside out. He volunteered for
the regiment division and was one of the first off the boat during the
d-day landings. On his way in to shore he took a bit of shrapnel in the
head. The wound left him deaf in one ear and a few rungs short of the
full ladder, if you know what I mean. The shrapnel was still in there
and if you asked him he'd show you the scar. They gave him a medal for
stopping the enemy shell with his skull and every November he'd have it
pinned to the lapel of his coat. These days, Einstein was a familiar
face on Duke Street. He was a quiet and polite man who had a smile for
everyone, a gentleman, in the true sense of the word. He would often
turn up in Cellino's Caf? with a flower for Mrs Cellino. It was more of
a weed really, but she was always flattered.
'Sit doon and have a cup of tea, Albert. Wid ye like a bacon
butty?'

Einstein had a couple of wee jobs around Dennistoun. One was to help
the bin men with the weekly refuse collection. Every Tuesday, you'd see
him following behind, picking up any stray garbage that they'd missed.
He'd gather it all together in his own bin bag and when it was full,
he'd lob it into the lorry.
'Ah may be auld, but am no ready fur the van yet ye know.' he'd say to
the men. The men would laugh, and Fat Bob would give him a couple of
quid. His other job was at the local off licence. Beveridge Brothers or
'The Bevvy' as it was affectionately known, was a legend in Dennistoun.
It was probably the most important shop in the East End of Glasgow. It
had been part of Duke street life for over fifty years and when you
went inside you felt like you'd stepped back in time. The women who
served you wore pale blue housecoats. They stood behind a large wire
cage and passed your purchase through a hole in the wire. All the
alcohol was stacked up in boxes around the shop, gathering dust.
Nothing was on display, except for a few handwritten, luminous signs
advertising the week's special offers,
Two for one on Buckfast or 1/2 price Smirnoff
The women were brisk and forthright. If any under age boozer peered
round the door, Margaret, the duty manager would cry out,
'Amanda, call the Polis!' and the spotty teenager would flee the scene.
Einstein had worked in The Bevvy for over ten years and it was his
pride and joy. Every night, just before closing time, he would appear
at the back of the queue for the smokes and wait for Margaret to give
him the nod.
Then she'd spot him.
'Good evening Einstein, yer brush is in the office.'
As he shuffled past the counter, the ladies would say hello and he'd
smile graciously. Once in the office, Einstein would remove his
overcoat and start on the floor. First he would sweep around the desk,
the filing cabinets and the ledger books stacked up by the window, then
under the small sink in the corner. He would then make his way out the
back door and down the stone steps into the storeroom. He was very
meticulous and thorough. To be honest, there wasn't a lot for him to
sweep because the office was never used and most of the stock, along
with the dirt, was piled up in the shop. But,
'if a job needs doin'&;#8230; it needs doin' right.' he'd mutter to
himself.
After about twenty minutes he'd be finished and return to the shop. By
that time, Amanda was pulling down the outside shutters and Margaret
was doing the evening takings.
'By God, you're keen the night, Einstein." she'd say. 'If ye like,
there's a few boxes that need breaking up.'
'Right oh, Mrs McFadden.'
At the end of his shift, Margaret would call him over.
'Thank you very much for all your help tonight, Einstein. There's a wee
something for you hard work.'
He'd give Margaret a wee peck on the cheek, say cheerio to the ladies
and pull the door behind him. Out on the street, the pubs would be
emptying with the usual shenanigans in full swing. Einstein would hide
the can under his coat.
'I'll open this when I get hame.' he'd say, '..ah don't want any o'
they young bampots geein' me grief.' He'd cross the road to avoid the
bottles and the fists and make his way back to the hostel. His day's
work was done.