He is still a pirate, going his own way, living by his own rules, which includes cancelling all his one-on-one international interviews except for me. Now do you see why I love him? Maybe this is because Johnny would never let down anybody that he actually knew. Or maybe it was because the last time we met, I gave him a dildo named Johnny. There was a reason: he had just done The Libertine, playing the sexually omnivorous Earl of Rochester. "It was a gorgeous gift" he says smiling naughtily. "A great gift."Don't get me wrong, I'm not making a declaration of envy for her meeting Mr Depp, though he is quirkily charming in his own way. No, I mean in a more general sense that we might imagine that sense of being - or believing ourselves to be - a semi-insider, writing that sort of piece, where the boundaries of fame/non-fame break down at least a little bit.
So for now, Johnny Depp is ready to look elegantly wrecked, sashaying into a further pirate adventure before he hangs up Captain Jack's cutlass forever. We hug goodbye and it's a warm and proper hug where I tell him he's lovely and he squeezes me tighter.
Outside, hundreds of the world's foreign press are gathered waiting to kill me because of what went on between me and Johnny in the hotel room.
Somehow it touched me.