The G Factor

Today is a good day. Firstly I'm not dead. And secondly, I have 2 auditions: one for a sleazy talent agent, and the other a callback for a Russian pimp. I know, I know - there's a bit of a theme running here, isn't there? Evidently I am viewed by some as "shady". It's nothing new. Even though I consider myself honest and trustworthy, I have long emitted the G factor. (Guilt) It may be the shifty eyes. It could be the way I stand, shoulders hunched in readiness. Or perhaps I grip my bag a little too tightly. Airport security personnel are fond of me. They'll pick me out at 100 paces. Browsing for shampoo (a rare activity) in the local drug store almost always prompts a "Kin aye help yew?" from the staff. This would be fine, if it wasn't for the fact the voice comes from directly behind me in an aisle that was empty seconds earlier. (What kind of stealth training have these creepy folks undergone?!) I hate the feeling of guilt that surges over me when I had no intention of doing anything dodgy. But for some reason, I now feel responsible for a crime that has yet to be committed. The only solution is to actual steal something - to fulfil their expectations, grab that bottle of Pantene and run. Well, it's not the ONLY solution. But one day, Savon ninjas... One day you'll help me over the edge.