”The song began:“When you’re a Jet,You’re a Jet all the wayFrom your first cigarette,To you last dyin’ day.When you’re a Jet,If the shit hits the fan,You got brothers around,You’re a family man.”“You’re never alone,You’re never disconnected.You’re home with your ownwhen company’s expectedYou’re well protected.”“Then you are setwith a capital J.Which you’ll never forgettill they cart you awayWhen you’re a Jet.You ... stay ... a Jet.”The scene and the rest of the song went well everybody was word perfect on his or her lines. The show continued on. It was sounding pretty good, our Riff is a freshman, but man, can he sing and dance. I think he’s in SEVEN BRIDES FOR SEVEN BROTHERS.There had been a few more pauses then there should have been. Tonight was the first rehearsal that the actors couldn’t stop and ask for help on lines; they had to ‘muddle through’ unless somebody went fubar, and our director Marcus didn’t like fubars.My first scene was coming. I went out on cue and remembered all. Slowly I turn and face my tormentor.I owe you an apology, dear reader, for I have been a little economical with the truth. I have drawn you pretty pictures with soft words and smooth flesh, but I am not to be trusted. I am a charlatan, a fakir, a peddler of half-truths and downright lies. Like a leashed puppy I have led you through a web of misdirection your eyes fixated by my slender silhouette, your nostrils filled with the heady aroma of my sex and your mind captivated by the throbbing in your groin.The truth is that I know this man/boy and he is no stalker. His only crime is one of innocence. Every day he climbs aboard my carriage and trails along behind me to the office block where we both work. Every day he teases me with his doe-eyes, soft lips and Bambi-like gracelessness. At lunchtime he sits laughing and joking with colleagues whilst I peer above my packaged Panini hoping for a glance, a smile, a waved hand and a tender word.I have become quite smitten. Nightly I have.
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