Sir Anthony
...written on 11.21.03, @ 10:13 a.m.
Fri November 21, 2003
Anthony Hopkins called me the other day. Yeah, it surprised me too. Especially after his rather peculiar invitation to a special gathering he was having that involved previous knowledge of some Andy Warhol project. "You know the one.", he said just before hanging up and leaving me open mouthed at the unfathomable reference.
I looked at my watch. I only had an hour and I had to meet Min, oh, here he comes. Min was in a mood and not at all looking or feeling like himself. He was flighty and whiny and clingy and I was trying desperately to figure out how to tell him, in the middle of this busy coffee shop, that I was sorry that he was under the weather and that usually I am there for his every whim and glad to do it, but that I had to go, when all of a sudden my cellphone rang.
It is considered very rude in Japan to answer a cellphone and talk on it in a restaurant or other public gathering place, so I told Min I was sorry and got up from the table, headed for the door and then managed to trip over someone's foot sending my huge behind up over my head and pushing me into a not so graceful heap onto the floor. I finally managed to get outside and answer the phone. It was Mr. Hopkins, again. "I see you", he said. Great, he was in the crowded coffee shop and had witnessed my physical fumbling. "The party is upstairs. You know what to do." I told him I had one question, but he refused to answer it, so I was left wondering if I had to know the Andy Warhol thing well to perform at this function.
I went upstairs and saw Sir Anthony sitting on a couch in a dark corner surrounded by gothy looking punksters. I think I had one foot over the threshold when I was overcome with a foreboding that sent me reeling backwards into the lighted stairway.
The end.