David is having a “procedure” this morning .
As he told his son, Graham, he needs a responsible adult to pick him up afterwards so he asked me. Graham’s response, “Close enough”.
He was not supposed to eat anything after midnight and from 3 o’clock on only clear liquids.
At around 8 last night he called me and said that since he’d come to the conclusion that white wine is a clear liquid maybe I’d like to join him for a cocktail.
I knew he must be nervous because he rarely seeks out my company that late unless he needs his cable or his computer fixed.
We sat out on his terrace sipping wine and I let him ramble on about which talk show host he wants to set on fire (Bill Maher) and how stupid I am because I didn’t know that Ireland and Northern Ireland are two different places (Go figure) until he pointedly looked at his watch and then the door a few times so I knew he had calmed down enough to be rude and I went home.
I’m going to read Twitter now and see what’s doing in Hollywood via TMZ, EW.com and Celebitchy and then I’ll get dressed and go and pick him up.
I just wrote “If he pulls through I’ll write tomorrow. If not, the day after.” but I erased it (kinda) because it made me scared.