I hadn’t heard from Michael for quite a while. He called about a year before at 3am telling me he was near my place and would I like to come down and ‘party’? Mike is American and ‘party’ is US slang for ‘do some booze and drugs and get laid’. My whole psyche split at the very suggestion, a huge part of me (my immortal soul) wanted to launch into the coke whores fire drill ‘dress, shoes, lipstick, perfume and cab’ and yet to my surprise what came out of my mouth was ‘Mike I am in AA I am 3 months clean and I can’t come’.
‘Oh wow! That’s just great – that’s .......... wonderful – well speak soon.'
I put the phone back into the cradle. Yes that’s wonderful, it’s just fucking brilliant that I have waited all my life for a millionaire cokehead to call me and invite me out to do drugs with him and when the call finally comes I am in AA. I am thrilled.
At least the call came.
This morning’s call was different – he was sober for one thing. ‘I spoke to Stephen, he said you were looking for work and I need part time PA why don’t you come over this afternoon at 3 and we’ll talk about it’
I told him ‘That would be amazing, thank you for thinking of me, I’ll pop by at 3.’
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