And now, for Barry and pap, it’s that period of quiet anticipation, last minute preening in front of the mirror, a little pouting, mood music in the background, checking everything’s in order, trying on different shirts, wondering whether or not to take flowers, rehearsing opening gambits, choosing the right aftershave, and watching the clock tick, tick, tick… oh so damn slowly. All that tension, that bottled-up tension, about to be unleashed.
I don’t think I can stand it any longer.