I got up early this morning. Watched Kilroy, still in my Tigger nightie and long woolly socks, curled up in a corner of my comfy sofa. I pulled the table close for my coffee, my fags and the ashtray.

Usually I sleep till about one pm, late nights you see. I am on call from seven 'till about ten thirty, and I invariably end up in a late night bar with one of my clients, downing a few voddies after the evening's fun. Actually last night was supposed to be my night off. I award myself one every week otherwise I would burn out. There are only so many clients a girl can service in a week.

Balancing my bowl of breakfast boulders on my knee I proceeded to shovel down the little crunchy balls with the fervour of a starving dog. Bowl empty, I slurped my coffee and swigged my vitamins down. B6, for my nerves, E for my skin, some Q10,s for energy and C for warding off colds. Then I cancelled out the C by smoking my first roll up of the day! Whoa! Head rush, even after the solids.

Last night was a weird one! A phone call at nine thirty, a very forthright man, sure of his requirements. He listed them in alphabetical order! I had to search to the back of my wardrobe to find my old fake fur coat. I don't have any dangly plastic earrings so I improvised by threading a couple of coloured plastic bangles through a curtain rings and attached the rings to some clip -ons. Truly tacky!

The underwear was no problem, my boyfriend had left his boxer shorts in my house a few days ago and I'd already run them through the wash. I had an old khaki vest and my woolly socks would pass a fisherman's socks. How he knew I had a stuffed barn owl I could not fathom. Word of mouth I suppose.
I shoved everything in a box (I would get organised when I got there) and called a taxi.


I arrived at the theatre with two minutes to spare for act two. I paid the taxi (got a receipt) and rushed to the stage door.
"last minute props.com, I believe you have an emergency?"