Whoever said that the Wild West is dead was lying to you. According to a recent article in the Daily Record, the true spirit of that anarchic Frontier lives on, though apparently only in the west-central Lowlands of Scotland (or more specifically in the administrative centre of the Renfrewshire council area), in a town called Paisley. Billy The Kidd eat your cowboy heart out, for the story of Adam Ferguson Snr. trying to run Iain McCreight down in his van to decide once and for all who gets to clean the wheelie bins of Paisley is a tale that makes the notorious high-noon duel look like a salesperson who mentions how happy they are it’s Friday in order to build a rapport: a total and complete farce.
Ferguson and McCreight have run separate wheelie bin cleaning services in the Glenburn area for the last seven years. There have been tensions, as one would expect when two behemoths of bin cleaning roam the same stomping ground. Things seemed to be going smoothly until one fateful day Ferguson, having had enough of sharing the glory and renown, decided to usurp the competition and seize the crown for himself as the last living heir to the localised wheelie bin cleaning dynasty.
No longer will I play second fiddle to you, Iain! Paisley’s dirty wheelie bins are my birth right, along with ALL the domestic waste containers of the surrounding lands of Renfrew extending up to though not including the Bridge of Weir and Clydebank. As you well know, cur!
What the final straw was we may never know – the only thing we can be sure of is that this man loves cleaning bins so much he is quite literally prepared to commit an intentional act of murder to continue doing so.
On December 21st, Ferguson attempted to carry out his own personalised brand of frontier justice but with a receptacle twist, allegedly trying to run his business rival down in his van by driving straight at him on Nethercraigs Road. This is a claim that is disputed by Ferguson and his wife Marjory, who claim that they weren’t there, it never happened, and that they don’t even know what a van is, so everyone should just leave well alone, alright? Convincing enough. In those typical cases of a wheelie bin cleaner attempting to brutally murder their business rivals with a heavy loading vehicle, that defence would normally be sufficient; however, nothing about this case can be classed as normal. Namely, this is not the first time Ferguson has attempted to run down Mr McCreight with a van. In June last year, Ferguson was convicted of common assault after he tried to reverse over Mr McCreight when they were both working jobs on Islay Crescent, a heated crime of passion that occurred in the throws of an embittered turf war for the very soul of Paisley’s residential waste containers. Different street – same hilariously misguided attempt to restore balance to the free market.
As funny as it is, somebody should probably inform Mr. Ferguson that running Iain over with a bin cleaning truck isn’t a pragmatic solution to all of life’s little problems. Some, but certainly not all.
For me, the most interesting part about this story is Ferguson’s character arc. Not to imply that he has in any way grown emotionally or come to peaceful terms with Mr McCreight, instead what is far more fascinating is the thought process that led him to believe that instead of reversing, driving forwards at speed was definitely going to be the way to further his commercial ambitions. If you think about it, there must have come a time at some stage between the two incidents, in the dead of night, with Marjory at his side, where Ferguson Snr. suddenly woke in a cold sweat, sat bolt upright and, with a knowing grin, whispered to himself: “No reversees”.