Yesterday I learned that a dear friend Michael had died quite unexpectedly on Monday. He was both camp and beefy, highly intelligent, bitingly witty, kind and generous, great company, told terrific stories and for 20 years he cut my hair. Here's the weird thing, though. Actually, several weird things.
His partner G (who is naturally devastated), had some friends staying with him this week to support him. Having showered, G looked for his glasses which he had put, folded up, on the bed. They weren't there. Not having the glasses to help him find the glasses, he asked his friends to help. They ran their hands over the duvet, they looked under the duvet, they checked the floor and under the bed; they looked everywhere. No glasses. G went in another room to look, came back... and there were the glasses, legs out (ie not folded), in the middle of the bed.
On Tuesday, one of Michael's friends was travelling on the train to stay with G. Now, Michael had the most horrific ring tone on his phone; it was brassy, it was loud, it was bizarre, and it was unlike any other ringtone you've heard. Ever. And then, another passenger's phone went off in the train carriage... same ringtone.
On Wednesday, I was driving locally and thought I saw Michael walking along with bags of shopping. I noticed him because I hadn't seem him for over a year. For various reasons, I thought, oh, but it can't be him... I didn't actually know he was dead at that point, but it gave me the weirdest feeling and I wondered if he was okay.
Anyway, it's his funeral on 23rd. I need to get my hair cut, obviously, because Michael would want me with 'faaaaabulous, f*** you, bitches' hair, just like he used to do for me. Godspeed, Michael.
