Turns out I know Jack. Turns out I beat up on someone who was trying to do good. Who I have never witnessed doing anything but good. Put it this way, we did a gig called FANNY HILL together at the York. At the penultimate performance, when Fanny and I arrived in her new bedchamber, we discovered props had left a ginormous dollhouse from the previous night's performance. It represented a mansion at the end of the show. At the beginning of the next day's show it was just a GINORMOUS PAIN IN THE ASS. So, I took it offstage, down a treacherous spiral staircase, in a corseted dress with a train, cackling the entire way.
By the end of the performance, there was a bottle of VERY nice vodka awaiting me in my dressing room...from Jack.
Jack does good. And Jack was trying to do good again. And he did. He explained what he meant and he included his name, occupation, email address and current residence. And I...
MizTiz said...
jacky jack jack jack. i adore you. you are good. i was cranky. i was bad. writing about something VERY hard and your post caught me at a time when i was feeling particularly vulnerable. so my apologies to the goodness that is you.
and it IS moving forward. really is. so thank you for your concern and your kind words and please accept my humble apology...
p.s. you did not include your social security number,
I like Jack. I'm grateful that Jack took the time to explain who and why he was.
55 more minutes to go!
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