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My Life Would Suck Without You

Page 25

by Krystal George


  ~*~

  With their luggage stashed in their hotel rooms, Jillian and Jake set out on their great adventure. Jake was excited, but he was more excited watching Jillian’s reaction to everything. Her senses went into overload with the sounds, sights, and smells of the greatest city on earth.

  The morning hours went fast. They headed south, walking down Seventh Avenue, zig-zagging east and west below Macy’s at Thirty-Fourth Street to the Empire State Building. Tired, yet brimming with energy, they caught an uptown bus. Grabbing a couple slices of pepperoni pizza and an Orange Julius, they went back to their hotel to eat before changing for the matinee.

  Less than an hour later, as they headed down Seventh Avenue, Jillian observed the people. “I expected the theater-goers to be dressed a little better.”

  “People used to dress better.” He shrugged. “Times have changed. The dress code has turned more casual, more relaxed. I remember years ago. No one sported jeans or shorts. Women wore dresses and men wore suits. Look,” he pointed. “There’s the St. James. That’s where we’re going. Look at those posters. I would love to have some of those on my wall at home!”

  She glanced at them. “Let’s look at them after the show. In fact, I want to look at all of the theaters,” she widely gestured around her. “But right now, I want to go inside and get to our seats!”

  For balcony seats, the view was good. Some of the people from their tour were already there, with more coming in. Small talk aside, the two friends poured through the Playbill for cast info and song list.

  Jillian pulled out a few pieces of candy from her pocket. “Want some butterscotch?”

  Jake laughed.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “Second rule of the theater. Thou shall not unwrap noisy cellophane covered candy during the performance.”

  Ten minutes later, the house lights dimmed and the energy packed musical began. Then, and it seemed like minutes to Jillian, the house lights came up for intermission.

  “Well?” Jake leaned over. “What do you think?”

  “Un-freaking-believable! The energy… the dancing… the music. Even professional shows we see back home pale in comparison to this.”

  “I knew you’d like it.”

  “It makes me want to write a musical.”

  Jake laughed. “I know. New York always does that to me. I always feel so rejuvenated. That’s why I try to visit here a couple times a year. When my creative juices start to ebb, I come here for a refill.”

  “What are we doing after the show?”

  “We need to get something to eat. Later, I figured we could just stroll around the area here. How does Chinese sound? I know a little place. You could call it a hole in the wall. Not much to look at, but the food is good and inexpensive.”

  “That works. Besides, I have some new ideas.” Just then, the lights dimmed for the second act. “Later,” she whispered.

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