Miss Wrong And Mr Right
“I don’t look like a sad mum?’ asked Sharon eyeing herself in a small make-up mirror and applying lipstick. We were outside the Macbeth rehearsal room on the third floor of the theatre, waiting for Ryan Harrison to break for lunch. Sharon had rushed over in her lunch break, still wearing her Royal Mail uniform of grey trousers, red blouse, and a multi-coloured neckerchief. She jumped as the door opened, but it was just a member of the crew. He nodded hello and gave Sharon an odd look as he pass...ed.
‘I should have brought something to change into, I look like a right twerp!’ she hissed, smoothing down her uniform and pulling at bits of fluff on her trouser leg. ‘You look fine, but maybe take off the neckerchief,’ I said. She untied it, and stuffed it in her handbag.
‘How’s that?’ she asked.
‘Perfect. And this is just a casual hello, yes?’ ‘Of course! I don’t want to seem like a crazy fan, like the obscene teddy bear woman… Should I compliment him on Manhattan Beach first?MoreLess
‘I should have brought something to change into, I look like a right twerp!’ she hissed, smoothing down her uniform and pulling at bits of fluff on her trouser leg. ‘You look fine, but maybe take off the neckerchief,’ I said. She untied it, and stuffed it in her handbag.
‘How’s that?’ she asked.
‘Perfect. And this is just a casual hello, yes?’ ‘Of course! I don’t want to seem like a crazy fan, like the obscene teddy bear woman… Should I compliment him on Manhattan Beach first?MoreLess
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