I laughed out loud when the idiot behind me boasted “I work for the Sun and I could sell Scotland for $2 billion!”. He clearly believed that this kind of statement would convince everyone of both his nationalist credentials, and the logic of voting yes in the forthcoming referendum on Scottish independence. He didn’t take too kindly to my reaction, but I was prepared for the aggression of any question along the lines of “Well, what’s this to do with you?” I had the well-rehearsed response about the circumstances of my birth and up-bringing on the tip of my tongue.

When he discovered that he wouldn’t win an argument with me my aggressor turned to the red-haired girl who was sitting across the aisle. She was no relation of mine, but needed protection. “And you can lay off my daughter too!” I screamed.

When we reached the terminus the tram driver approached me with thanks for dealing with the embarrassing passenger. I then skipped off to spend the rest of the afternoon with my long-dead grandmother.