oldhollywood: 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. 

oldhollywood:

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. 

Meg WachterComment