It is 1.30am in the morning. Still no sign of Jasper, Derek and Colin. Although I fear they may be on their way across the Atlantic right at this very minute. Rhys and I have spent a day together in New York. We breakfasted in Brooklyn where I had a breakfast burger (that’s a thing that needs to exist in the UK) and we worked for several hours on making sure the script and the orchestrations matched up.
We were meant to meet Anthony Drewe at the NAMT offices at 2.30pm. When it became clear that we hadn’t finished our updates in time, we pushed the meeting back to 3.00pm. When it became clear that we wouldn’t make that we pushed it back to 3.30pm. When it became clear that we were both arseholes with no sense of time we pushed it back to 4.00pm with the caveat that Ants didn’t have to wait for us if he was too busy. We finally arrived at the NAMT offices in midtown Manhattan at around 4pm. Anthony had visited already and was safely ensconced in his uptown apartment. He shall now forever be my Uptown Girl. Billy Joel will never be the same. Rhys and I visited NAMT, went 24 floors up in the wrong lift, came back down and eventually arrived at NAMT where we filmed ourselves outside the office door. We were greeted inside by the lovely staff who informed us that our main contacts were at a food tasting. After stealing sweets and being generally British and endearing, we went to the English pub next door. Which aside from a lack of carpet and table service was incredibly similar to an actual English Pub. A couple of pints later we returned to the NAMT offices to say hello to Ciera, Karin and co. It was lovely to put names to faces and I was informed that I was the last to provide payment information. I feel as if I had let the UK down. We stole more sweets and then headed to one of their recommended bars for dinner. Interestingly it was called Tailor’s. We assumed named after one of the characters in The Wicker Husband. We then issued forth a tweet and requests for dingy musical theatre bars to occupy. Adam Lenson recommended Marie’s Crisis in the Village. So we walked for half an hour down 8th Avenue and arrived at Marie’s Crisis, where we drank Long Island Ice Tea and stayed for a couple of hours talking about The Wicker Husband. Never let it be said that downtown Manhattan is not the perfect place for mulling over the conundrums of a play set in a swamp in Yorkshire. Rhys went outside for a smoke and noted, upon his return that we were in fact not in Marie’s Crisis at all. We were in fact next door at a Jazz Bar. We promptly left our jazz bar seats and hopped next door where we soon found ourselves surrounded by a hundred people who looked curiously like Adam Lenson, all singing Defying Gravity at the top of their lungs. We stayed for hours singing show tunes to the live piano accompaniment, big ups to Kenny Green our accompanist for the evening. Finally, when we realised that tomorrow morning we had a brunch set up with composer extraordinaire Adam Gwon, we thought we should call it a night and after eating a bunch of pizza fries (don’t ask) we parted and caught ourselves trains home. Right at the minute I’m not entirely sure where Rhys is but I’m definitely glad he is here with me. After all, he is the whole reason any of this came about in the first place. Anyways, time to go. Still no sign of Derek, Jasper and Colin. I can only pray that they’ve been delayed at Gatwick… Tomorrow is Laundry Day.
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