Based on the inside information supplied to me yesterday by Jefferson, today I brought champagne to the rehab clinic to share with the wealthy Mr. Walton. I bought the smallest bottles I could find, but still was only able to fit two into my purse. When I approached Mr. Walton with the champagne, he was surprised that someone had brought him his favorite drink. After the cork from the first bottle popped a little too loudly, Mr. Walton grabbed the second bottle and said he would do that one himself because he had a special way of muffling the sound. "Don't want the nurses to hear our good cheer," he said. Jefferson was happy that Mr. Walton and I hit it off, but was sad that I hadn't been able to fit any other bottles of alcohol in my purse for him. He said he'd have to see about fixing that.
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