Three days later, I met JC at the airport where she told me she would be sitting in first class for the transatlantic flight. The good news for me was that before I tried to cram my overweight body into the back of the plane somewhere is the first class lounge she got me into where I managed to pound down enough free drinks and appetizers that it probably cost the airline as much as my ticket. I did some more damage to a dozen more miniature liquor bottles on the plane but sleep was elusive. I can never sleep on a plane. I wandered up front once to check on JC and she was deep in conversation with some guy who seemed to be spending a great deal of energy trying not to look down her top. He was failing.
This trip had to be quick. JC had commitments and there was a very brief window when all the people would be gathered in one place. London. I love your town London. As soon as I land I feel classier. Oh, and a lot more poor. JC had managed to sleep. I had not. We were not meeting anyone until the next day. I was hopeful that when we arrived at the hotel that somehow by a stroke of genius there would be a room available for me. There was not. JC laughed as she got a room key. She had booked an extra night and had paid for her room in advance. To the hotel it was like she was checking in 15 hours late. She told me she would see me later. I went to the restaurant and ordered a lot of food and then found an unused portion of the lobby where I tried to sleep. i didn't think there was any possible way I could sleep, but I was wrong and two hours later JC was waking me up with her foot. I'm sure she was doing that to see if I was dead. i was not exactly looking Bacon Monthly good at the moment.
She said we were having lunch with her ex. Apparently the two had a lovely phone conversation and the nasty feelings they once had for each other vanished in the air. She was as surprised as I was at how well they got along. Their split was now a couple of years in the rear view mirror after a decade of marriage. The ex was someone who could work behind the scenes calling people. The ex is probably a B- list celebrity in his own right. A little higher if you are older and a little lower if you are younger. He was a man of many talents. JC must be a good decade or more older than me but doesn't look it. Her ex (TP) is a good two decades older than me but doesn't look like it. Obviously not living up to the old adage of partying like a rock star. He agreed to help me if I failed. While I met with the other possible helpers he would call a guy who was the perfect middleman between the two camps. Yes, two camps. One was the impossible and one was the unlikely. My only hope was to get the impossible to say yes. At that point, the unlikely would probably also say yes. Probably. The ex and his contact would be able to convince the unlikely.
I needed a room. Badly. Nothing quite like the feeling of that up for two days straight with only some hotel lobby floor nap time while wearing the same clothes and reeking of old booze to really make you appreciate the life Lindsay Lohan leads. I got my room. I was hoping for sleep. JC was going out with friends. I crashed on the bed and was wide awake. That kind of wide awake that you know won't ever let sleep in the door.
Food and five pints later courtesy of a pub down the street, I finally crashed.
The next day was sunny. I remember looking out the window at a park and seeing the sun. I took that as a good sign in the quest. It really was a quest. It had been a quest for almost a decade. Prior to that time, I don't think anyone had really tried. I was trying. I wanted it to happen. I could see it happening. I was Secreting before The Secret existed.
JC and I made our way to our meeting. One place. All of the players would be there. We got to our destination and shuffled downstairs. Yeah, strange place for it to happen. When I walk past the building now there is really no trace of what it used to be. That is a sign of the times. At that point in time though it was all happening there. This was an unusual thing for the music industry. A daytime event. A morning event at that. RO was there all sunshine and love and had no problems with the early morning requirement. GR showed up a few minutes later and looked as bad as I had the day before but this was his life almost everyday. They had work to do so I tried to talk and walk and get a minute or two with them to explain my idea. My plan. GR said it would never work. He was kind of in a similar situation but money would do the trick with him. Not for the impossible or unlikely. It would help, but there had to be something more. RO agreed and then tapped my arm and pointed towards the door. JC turned at the exact same time. I didn't recognize the woman RO was pointing to. JC did though and her London accent she acquired through marriage suddenly returned and said, "That's f**king brilliant." When I found out who it was, I agreed it was brilliant. Just because I didn't recognize SH didn't mean I didn't know who she was or why she would be so perfect for this. She was the connection. She could make it about something other than money. The impossible would listen.
Tomorrow the impossible listens.
