5/8/2023 0 Comments Lucky man by michael j fox![]() ![]() If I had to leave the hotel at 10:00A.M., let's say, she would have called at 9:30, again at 9:40, then at 9:50 she would have taken the elevator from her floor up to mine, let herself into my room, propelled me to the shower, and slipped into the kitchen to brew a pot of coffee. If I was needed on set, there would have been a phone call from my assistant, Brigette. In those first few seconds of consciousness, I didn't know what time it was, but I could be fairly certain that I hadn't overslept. It was a Tuesday morning, so while I couldn't recall the exact details of the previous night's debauchery, it was a pretty safe bet that it had something to do with Monday Night Football. I'd only been shooting the movie in Florida for a week or so, and the massive, pink-lacquered, four-poster bed surrounded by the pastel hues of the University Center Hotel's Presidential Suite still came as a bit of a shock each morning. It wasn't a fax, telegram, memo, or the usual sort of missive bringing disturbing news. I woke up to find the message in my left hand. ![]()
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