A missed flight

A missed flight

25 March, 2007 | 7.32AM

• Section: Music News Topics: Industry Boy Blog
• Written by: Industry Boy

Industry Boy and my Miami harem float on yellow sunloungers in the middle of the hotel swimming pool. The electro house and rock sounds of Tommie Sunshine can be heard pounding away in the background. Underwater, it sounds like someone is firing machine-guns excitedly into the air.

“Can I pour Champagne on you darling,” I ask Sandy in my most innocent of voices. “Sure as long as you lick it off,” she replies.

Life is just perfect. The sun shines brightly, and a tan is building nicely. There’s a bucket full of ice-cold beers.

The girls are looking positively delightful, and the envious looks from the muscular jocks standing around the pool in their baggy shorts and basketball tops can only mean one thing. I am King. And Lady Desire is my queen.

For a moment, a feeling of dread washes over me. I was meant to do something important today I think. Industry Boy shakes it off, like a wet dog.

As the shadows of the palm trees move slowly from east to west, and the sun throbs away, its glow brings radiance to our skin and our lives.

A little over 19 miles away in Miami airport a uniformed lady unmutes the button on the public announcement system and says, “This is a last call for passengers flying to Heathrow. The gates are now closing.”

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