Butterflies

How is it when love comes calling your wardrobe resembles the aftermath of a jumble sale? Spent an hour debating what to wear for last night's broadcast, just in case the lovely lady from Urology stopped by with a request. In the end I plumped for a light cotton/polyester mix shirt in jazzy colours, my new sandals, lightweight cotton slacks and matching socks. When I arrived at Portland Hospital Radio I came over all a quiver, thinking about a possible encounter with my fantasy woman. I was trembling so much I couldn't operate the cross fader, my voice was shaky and I had butterflies in my stomach. I had to play an eight minute Dire Straits guitat solo and have a hot sweet tea before I could go back on air. I put out a call for requests and a few came in from the ante natal ward to mark the birth of a few babies and that was it. Nothing else. Post show I hung around the station for a while before I had to leave to get the last bus home. With all that preparation I felt like I had been stood up.