The Fittest Man in Television

I’m just about to leave the office for a pitch meeting with Jack Brown, Head of Factual Programmes at Channel Twenty.

Jack Brown is forty two years old and newly SINGLE. He’s the only REAL man in the entire television industry (all the others are gay, married or complete rotters). I’ve been besotted with him ever since I was an assistant producer.

Original from Leeds – Jack drinks Pints and smokes far too many Benson and Hedges (he’s so Northern. I love it). Adding to his masculinity, he has the deepest, sexiest voice I’ve ever heard in my LIFE. If his TV career goes tits up he’d make a lucrative living from recording those dodgy 0898 numbers.

I have bored my friend’s senseless about our every encounter. I’ve asked their advice on the text and sub-text of his every email and voice message.

I would like to think Jack has no idea I fancy the pants off him. However, the brutal truth is … it’s so bloody, embarrassingly obvious. Whenever, I speak to him my voice goes up a few octaves and then I blurt out complete rubbish. One time in a meeting I asked if he had seen a particular programme, broadcast the previous night. I then ploughed into how shit it was, realising later he had commissioned it.

He thinks I’m hilarious of course. He throws his head back in laughter whenever I open my mouth. This isn’t good. I want him to think … I’m a self-assured, sexy minx who he has to ask out on a date before someone else snaps me up. But NO … my fear is, he sees me as Doris, the funny, slightly eccentric northerner.

I need to sex things up a bit. Will keep you posted.

Yours, Doris. x