There is an overpowering smell of aftershave. I can smell it in the kitchen now, and it’s giving me a headache. I first noticed it when I was putting away the supermarket shopping, and thought maybe the delivery driver was on a promise tonight and had just overdone it a bit. But no. Turns out Son of Mine got in from trampolining and decided to spray it around his bedroom. Presumably some went on him too. I wouldn’t mind, but he’s six, not sixteen.
Coincidentally, “an overpowering smell of aftershave” is five words that I have learnt from the latest script I am working on. Actually, I have learnt a little more than five words, but these particular five will have a certain resonance at tonight’s rehearsal, especially if I still have this headache. Hey, maybe “having a headache” could be my excuse tonight – does it work for bedroom scenes on stage too?
This play is really calling on my acting skills. Not that I have a problem with my Charming On Stage Lover, it’s just “making me very tense. It just feels weird.” (There’s another eight words I can remember). I can do broad comedy, I can do dramatic, I have even been known to throw on a pair of tap shoes in recent years and act my arse off to fool the audience into thinking I am still twenty-something. I just find snogging someone while I’m still fumbling for my lines bit strange. Especially when he knows his. It kind of breaks the moment, you know? Of course when my lines are secure and I’ve got lights, a costume and an audience then I’ll be giving it my all, as usual. Just watch me, tiger!