I answered for the waiter. “No,” I said. “Since you’re here in New Orleans, why not drink a New Orleans drink? Gin and Seven-Up; gin and Coke; rum and Coke; or bourbon and Seven-Up?”
“Gin and Coke?” he inquired as though I’d suggested he try a chloride of lime cocktail. “Do you mean they mix them?”
“Bring him one” I told the waiter.
The waiter went away. Marilyn said to me, “Why did you run out on me — that other time?”
“Who said I did?”
“A little bird — and then I have eyes, you know.”
“ I’ll say you have.”
She laughed. “What’s your name?”
“Donald.”
“Next time don’t get a girl all interested and then walk out”