Still feeling restless, I changed my shirt and went downstairs to the Lavender Room- it was like their own little nightclub. Before I left my room, I was thinking whether to call my little sis’ , Phoebe. Phoebe- she’s perfect, you‘d like her. There’s no fooling her she knows when something is bad and when something is good. Like Allie, she has red hair and is unusually intelligent for her age. I remember the time Phoebe and I went to see Hitchcock’s The Steps, Phoebe’s humour and cleverness, and she writes never-ending fictional stories that feature a character named “Hazle” Weatherfield. Phoebe’s one flaw is that she is perhaps too emotional.


In the Lavender Room, I sat down at a table and tried to order a cocktail. Due to my height and my gray hair, I am often able to order alcohol, but, in this case, the waiter refused. I flirted and danced with three women who are visiting from Seattle. They seemed amused but uninterested. After tolerating me for a while, they began to laugh at me; they also depressed me by being obsessed with movie stars. When I lied to one of them about having just seen Gary Cooper, she told the other two that she caught a glimpse of Gary Cooper as well. I pays for their drinks and they ordered like a hundred drinks, then I left the Lavender Room.