Lauren Bacall (1944, photo by Bert Six)
The phone in the bedroom rang. I picked it up. It was Lauren Bacall.
“I’ve been waiting for Tony for an hour,” Lauren said angrily. “Where the hell is he?”
“Lauren,” I replied, “you’re complaining to me because my husband is late for a date with you?”
“Well, dear,” she said, “If your husband doesn’t respect your marriage, why should I?”
“You’re absolutely right, Lauren,” I said, “He’ll be there in a few minutes. Look for a man with a bandaged head.’”
-Shelley Winters, in her autobiography The Middle of My Century.
