...Lyric Theatre, Shaftesbury Avenue, half eleven, one evening mid week, about two months ago...
...what to write, what to write...
...I want to show him my appreciation, but not have it sound not too sycophantic...
...do I need to fill up a whole card? How bout less is more?....
...no, he's too wordy for that, you gotta speak on his level...
...okay, here goes...
In the middle of a hugely busy travelling week, and with the stage door guy about to burst in on his closing rounds, I press pen to paper in a slightly desperate attempt at a thank you letter...
...yeah, that'd sound clever...
...no, not so much, but what about...
...never know what to write in these things...
...are the other boys still at the pub? It's nearly an hour since curtain...
...what about this turn of phrase?...
...oh no! a scribble out, a mistake! terrible!...
...and another one!...
I get to the end of the second half of the card and cast an eye over the results...not impressed, a little disappointed even, but more importantly, what will he think? Have I just written a love letter to my effective employer?
And precisely at that moment....in the corner of my eye, at the end of the room....one of the famed Lyric theatre mice darts by!
Everyone's left the building, the residents are in, it's time to go....
And so I trudge out stage door into Great Windmill Street, past the gaudy red neon of the adjoining strip club, head hung at a most unimpressive attempt at a show of appreciation for the last two years of working with him.
But despite my dismay at a poorer hold on the English language than I'm sure I used to have, I'm guessing that the humorous card and mid-price-looking bottle of unfamiliar Aussie red might do something towards communicating the idea...
And what to do about these diminished abilities?....
1 comment:
Read. Read anything and everything. It'll come back.
Post a Comment