Juliet and I disappoint a theater full of children by not telling them our age at the talk back, they guess 22 and it makes us feel good. Next I have a two-hour lunch break that consists of me making excuses why not to go to the gym.
I’m called for five hours of rehearsal for the next show—The Count of Monte Cristo. I spend most of the time on a couch thinking of witty things to say in this blog, while Mercutio (now Mondego) and Paris (now Benedetto) tune their guitars.
At night the troops wander back to the apartments. I do laundry at Lady Capulet's, and some of us get together to watch Lost. We bring a hodgepodge of food: leftovers, chips, spinach balls, cheese, crackers, chocolates and plenty of wine. We fill in the less die hard followers, trade conspiracy theories, laugh in our camaraderie, complain about the day, and revel in the fact that we are working.
When we walk back to our separate apartments, Juliet, my next-door neighbor, invites me over. Enjoying the novelty of the fireplace, I build a fire as she makes us Root Beer floats. We sit on the floor around the coffee table and she teaches me a card game. I manage to win the first game, then she alters the rules and I lose the second.
Midnight roles along, I say goodnight to my star crossed lover and take the 6-step walk back to La Casa de Montague. I lay out my clothes for the following morning, brush my teeth, grab my science fiction novel and hop into bed. With excitement I open up my book and search for where I left off. After a couple minutes, I toss it aside and turn out the light. I smile as I drift off to sleep when I realize that the book, without Juliet’s voice buzzing in my ear, is surprisingly empty.
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