Remember Charlie? The weird kid that never spoke and wrote detail notes of everything he sees and hears?
As fate would have it, Charlie and I are once again work mates. We abandoned our previous glamourous careers as cloak room assistants and found employment in a more cultur-lol industry.. Theatre.
Charlie's official uniform is a pirate bandana, pirate hat, pirate sword and a high vis. Suffice to say this makes Charlie's unofficial job title as "nu-rave pirate steward"
Treasure Island, the threatre's most recent performance, has seldom finished, which makes Charlie and my employment security precarious. No matter.. Charlie and I have already made plans to become life models. Apparently the pay is good and on top of that everyone gets to see how hot you look naked. It's prostitution of the moral variety, charlie and I will remain men of virtue.
We'd better start waxing.
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