Summer apparently doesn't need a spoon when eating soup.
The new co-anchor of The Morning Show did a header into her twenty dollar bowl of lobster bisque last night while dining at The Firefly, one of Manhattan's hottest restaurants. Her dinner companion, a young man who was not identified, called 911 after she passed out, was revived, and passed out again. A waiter at the restaurant confirmed Ms. Summer had not had any alcohol. She was taken to NYU's emergency room and admitted for overnight observation. Blood tests revealed no alcohol or drugs in her system.
A source close to the show tells us Ms. Summer has been exhausted trying to adjust to the early morning shift and suggested the weird hours and lack of sleep may have finally caught up with her.
No word on if she'll be back on the set Monday morning.
I rolled my eyes, dropped the newspaper and slapped my head back on the pillow as a doctor entered the room.
"Well, good morning, young lady," he said, sticking out his hand. "I'm Doctor Heller." He was perhaps forty, short and pudgy with thinning sandy hair and hazel eyes peering out of a moon face.
I shook his hand. "Veronica Summer. Sorry to tie up one of your beds for nothing."
He picked up the chart hanging on the foot of the bed and looked at it. "From what I can tell, a bed is what you need. When's the last time you had a good night's sleep?"
"Last night?"
"I meant before we checked you in here."
"A few weeks ago, before I took a morning anchor job."
"Yes, I watch your show. You're obviously doing a good job faking being awake. Your friends tell me you're having a lot of trouble adjusting to the overnight shift."
"I can't sleep more than four hours at a time. And it's also depressing the hell out of me. I've got no life. My whole life revolves around trying to get to sleep."
He nodded. "Have you been taking anything to help you sleep?"
"Wine. Over the counter sleeping pills. Melatonin. Nyquil. I've tried everything. Not at the same time, of course. Nothing works for more than four hours."
"Before you started working this shift, what usually helped you get a really good night's sleep?"
"Sex."
He bit his tongue and smiled. "I, uh, don't think your insurance covers that."
"Sure, it'll cover Viagra for guys but when women need some help, nooooo."
He laughed, pulled a pen and prescription pad from his pocket and started writing. "I'm going to prescribe a strong sleep aid. And this one should be more effective than a boyfriend and won't get you pregnant."
"Ooooh, I like a doctor who's a smartass."
"Occupational hazard when you work in the emergency room. Anyway, this medication has been very effective with my patients who work unusual shifts, like you. Now there is a small chance of a side effect. People have been known to drive while asleep—"
"I don't have a car and I don't know how to steal one. Just give me whatever it will take to knock me out."
He smiled and nodded as he ripped the prescription from the pad and handed it to me. "By the way, you had a ridiculous amount of caffeine in your system. Try to cut back. The thing that's helping you wake up for your show is also keeping you awake when you're trying to sleep. It takes quite awhile for caffeine to get out of your system. If you can simply get your sleep cycle adjusted, you won't need it."
"Got it. Thanks, doctor."
"I'll get you discharged. For today, go home and rest." He nodded at my friends and headed out.
"You know," said Savannah, "you may have something with your idea."
"She's right," said Layla.
I threw back the covers and started to get out of bed. "What idea?"
"Sex to knock you out," said Savannah.
I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, and you see how my attempt to start a relationship last night ended up."
"Maybe you don't need a relationship," said Layla. "Maybe you could go the friends with benefits route."
"Now I know how Katrina Favor did this shift for so long!"
***
If I needed a reason to feel more positive about the job, she was sitting on the interview set waiting for me. Yes, one of the key carrots in the bunch, Senator Sydney Dixon, was my guest on Monday morning. Thankfully the extended stay in the hospital had recharged my batteries a bit. I'd also ditched the coffee and switched to fruit that was high in natural sugar, figuring things like dates and raisins might perk me up but not keep me awake at night. I still desperately wanted coffee, but was determined to give the natural high a try.
The Senator stood up to greet me as I approached the set and extended her hand. "Veronica, so nice to meet you."
"My pleasure," I said, as I shook her hand. Her turquoise eyes locked with mine, and I saw what was known in media circles as the look. The one that went right into your soul, seemed honestly sincere, as opposed to the usual blank glare you got from politicians who forgot your name ten seconds after you told them. It was part of the reason she was such a media darling and often received positive coverage bordering on bias. Reporters generally liked her personally, and she seemed genuine in return.
Voters loved her for any number of reasons, not the least of which was her appearance. The forty-five year old Senator from New Jersey is a stunner, a redhead like me but she's strawberry to my copper. Her body would be the envy of any twenty-year-old, as the former Marine drill sergeant has maintained her perfectly toned figure. But her buffed physique is a contrast to her incredibly sexy face, complete with high cheekbones, full lips, a sharp nose and a distinctive sultry whiskey voice that drives men crazy. It's like a cross between Demi Moore and Lorraine Bracco, and the moment you hear it you know who's speaking. She's known as the Tower of Power in Washington: a six foot babe who can turn heads in an evening gown and crack heads when she needs to. She also answers to Big Red from her days in the military.
That military service is an asset, as is her seemingly perfect normal family. Married to her high school sweetheart who is a school teacher, she's managed to raise two squeaky clean college age kids who spend their summers working with various charitable organizations. If there have ever been any skeletons in her closet, they've been exorcized. No one has even been able to come up with anything remotely resembling a scandal about the woman.
Put it all together and she's a slam dunk for the next Presidential election. I know it, the public knows it, and the network sure as hell knows it. Yes, there's this thing called bias which drives viewers crazy; in this case the networks are jockeying for position to get in the good graces of the woman who will occupy the Oval Office for four, and maybe eight, years.
That's not to say I agree with everything she stands for, because I don't. But since I'm an old school journalist I'll never share my opinions about politics, religion or social issues.
Anyway, she hasn’t officially kicked off a campaign with it being three years
