"oh I'm sure it can't be that bad..."How very little they realise.
So, she who shrieks like a banshee, with the tone of a mandrake let loose on the stage,
"Kiss me honey honey kiss me.... don't even care if I blow my top but honey honey don't ......"
At that point the producer yells,
"STOP - please we've heard enough".
I look up towards the petrified audience, still quaking in shock, the blood gone from their faces, pale, glazed terrified expressions, they look like they had just been blasted by a fog horn at close range. Oops, I did warn you, when the pianist asked me, what key I would like him to play the tune in, I did tell him it really wouldn't make a difference. No-one could look me in the eye after that, so if I get the part it will be a miracle.
Still it hasn't stopped me fantasising about costume and today I've been salivating over auction catalogues, check out this magnificent collection below, the sale is on tomorrow at Rosebery's, West Norwood. That's just up the road from where I used to live.
If only I had a shop, I'd be hiring a van right now and heading East, even just to buy these head-dresses, I would wear one every day in the shop, and why not eh - it's that Panto villainess inside of me, just itching to come out to play and in need of a stage and an audience to hiss at.
Oh yes I do......