Girl Friday?

Last night, my peeps at The Longwood Players put on a stellar version of City of Angels at the Cambridge Y in Central Square.

(I've played 5 shows with TLP over the years, including the one from last November.  First time I've sat in the audience.  Reminds me of the f@#$ing amount of work required to produce such a show. Humbling.)

Until last night, I'd never seen this particular musical's story: the parallel tales of a 1940's crime novelist turning his book into a screenplay, alongside his protagonist -- a suave private eye investigating a missing-persons case --  and the women who love and lose them both. The music: be-bop, jazz harmonies.  The style: noirish, sassy, sexy.

I was tooling along, enjoying the show, until early in the second act, when Oolie, the detective's Girl Friday, stands on stage in her negligee after her lover has crept away, yet again, to belt out,  "You Can Always Count on Me:"

I'm one of a long line of good girls
Who choose the wrong guy to be sweet on
The girl with a face that says welcome
That men can wipe their feet on

I'm there when he calls me
The trusted girl friday alright
But what good does it do me
Alone on a saturday night

I'm solely to blame

My head gives advice that my heart ignores

I'm my only enemy

Hmm.  Interested in the wrong man, or at least the one who doesn't deliver. Like this one?  Or this?  And then most certainly this?  And from the history books, this?

And dateless on a Saturday night?

Seem to have found some parallels of my own.