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4
...only to find he had been asleep well past noon still...
I don’t know what had possessed me. I guess it was some sort of a “let’s try and see if this works at all” thing. I sat on my bed in the Hotel de Paris in Monte Carlo and dialled the number of Michael’s room.
In my dreams, we had had the greatest conversation of all and talked for hours. Well, this did not quite happen.
After two beeps I heard rustling of sheets, some moaning sounds, and, finally, a very drowsy and sleepy Michael saying “Yesss??”
My heart stopped. I really had Michael on the line. The bad thing was, I had woken him up. Damn! I had never imagined I would wake him up this time of day, let alone hearing the rustling of his sheets and his moaning while he was grabbing the telephone…*sigh*
For lack of anything brilliant to say (as all of my brain was frozen in time because of the rustling and moaning sounds) I said: “Can I talk to Alfred please?”
“Who??”
“Alfred! I need to talk to him it’s important!”
More rustling, then a mumbling Michael: “You’ve got the wrong number.”
I threw down the receiver as I really did not know what else to say. No great conversation and all... It was somewhat surreal.
Almost 17 years later, I can still hear his drowsy ‘yesssss’, the rustling, and, yes be sure, I can exactly tell you what sounds he made while turning in bed to grab for the telephone *sigh-again*
I don’t know what had possessed me. I guess it was some sort of a “let’s try and see if this works at all” thing. I sat on my bed in the Hotel de Paris in Monte Carlo and dialled the number of Michael’s room.
In my dreams, we had had the greatest conversation of all and talked for hours. Well, this did not quite happen.
After two beeps I heard rustling of sheets, some moaning sounds, and, finally, a very drowsy and sleepy Michael saying “Yesss??”
My heart stopped. I really had Michael on the line. The bad thing was, I had woken him up. Damn! I had never imagined I would wake him up this time of day, let alone hearing the rustling of his sheets and his moaning while he was grabbing the telephone…*sigh*
For lack of anything brilliant to say (as all of my brain was frozen in time because of the rustling and moaning sounds) I said: “Can I talk to Alfred please?”
“Who??”
“Alfred! I need to talk to him it’s important!”
More rustling, then a mumbling Michael: “You’ve got the wrong number.”
I threw down the receiver as I really did not know what else to say. No great conversation and all... It was somewhat surreal.
Almost 17 years later, I can still hear his drowsy ‘yesssss’, the rustling, and, yes be sure, I can exactly tell you what sounds he made while turning in bed to grab for the telephone *sigh-again*
. I knew he liked those kinds of opportunities and I knew of plenty of people who managed to have proper conversations with him over the phone (or through his hotel window), if the timing was right. Alas, my timing was not...
?
Thank you for sharing this memory.