American tabloid

9:27-9:39: BJ amp; PL.

PL (conversation in progress): You stand out in this crowd, Barb.

BJ: My beauty or my height?

PL: Both.

BJ: You’re so full of shit.

FU3: Hi, Peter.

PL: Hi, doll.

FU6: Peter, I just love the President’s hair.

PL: Give it a tug. He won’t bite you.

FU3, FU6: laughter.

BJ: Are they showgirls or hookers?

PL: The bleached blonde’s a barmaid at the Sip n’ Surf in Malibu. The others work the show line at the Dunes. You see the brunette with the lungs?

BJ: I see her.

PL: She plays skin flute in Frank Sinatra’s all-girl band.

BJ: Very funny.

PL: Not funny, because Bobby made Jack drop Frank. Frank put in a heliport at his place in Palm Springs so Jack could visit him, but that judgmental little shit Bobby made Jack give him the brush-off, just because he knows a few gangsters. Look at him. Isn’t he a wicked looking little shit?

BJ: He has buck teeth.

PL: That never touch women.

BJ: Are you saying he’s a fag?

PL: I have It on good authority that he only fucks his wife, doesn’t go down, and only gives it to Ethel for purposes of procreation. Isn’t he a wicked looking little shit?

FU2: Peter! I just met the President out on the beach!

PL: That’s nice. Did you suck his cock?

FU2: You’re a pig.

PL: Oink! Oink!

BJ: I think I need a drink.

PL: I think you need a lobotomy. Really, Barb. I just wanted you to sleep with Frank once.

BJ: He’s not my type.

PL: He could have helped you. He would have kicked that wicked little shit Joey out of your life.

BJ: Joey and I have a history. I’ll cut him loose when the time’s right.

PL: You cut me loose too soon. Frank was deeply smitten with you, doll. He sensed that you were hiding things, and I have it on good authority that he hired a private eye to find out what those things were.

BJ: Did he tell you what he found out?

FL: Mum’s the word, doll. Mum’s the goddamn-

FU1: Oh God, Peter, I just met President Kennedy!

PL: That’s nice. Did you suck his cock?

BJ, FU1, FU7: garbled.

PL: Oink! Oink! Oink! I’m a Presidential piglet!

9:40-10:22: garbled. Static quality indicates that Secret Service men installed and were calling out on private phone lines.

10:23-10:35: garbled. BJ (standing near hi-fi set) talking to: FU1, 3, 7. (She should have been told to avoid noisy appliances amp; record players.)

10:36-10:41: BJ in bathroom (indicated by sink amp; toilet sounds).

10:42-10:49: garbled.

BJ (conversation in progress): It’s just a craze, and you have to catch these things before they crest, and then bail out before they fizzle so you won’t look like a loser.

RFK: Then I guess you could say the Twist is like politics.

BJ: You could. Opportunism’s certainly the common denominator.

RFK: It sounds trite, but you don’t talk like an ex-showgirl.

BJ: Have you met a lot of them?

RFK: Quite a few, yes.

BJ: When you were investigating gangsters?

RFK: No, when my brother introduced me to them.

BJ: Did they have a common denominator?

RFK: Yes. Availability.

BJ: I’d have to agree with that.

RFK: Are you going out with Lenny Sands?

BJ: We’re not dating. He just brought me to the party.

RFK: How did he bill the gathering?

BJ: He didn’t say, ‘come join the harem,’ if that’s what you mean.

RFK: Then you noticed the high woman to man ratio.

BJ: You know I did, Mr. Kennedy.

RFK: Call me Bob.

BJ: All right, Bob.

RFK: I’m just assuming that since you know Peter and Lenny, you know how certain things are.

BJ: I think I follow you.

RFK: I know you do. I’m only mentioning it because I’ve known Lenny for a long time, and he seems sad and nervous tonight, and I’ve never seen him that way before. I’d hate to think that Peter put him up to-

BJ: I don’t like Peter. I had a fling with him several years ago, and I broke it off when I saw that he was really no better than a toady and a pimp. I came to this party because Lenny needed a date and I thought it would be nice to spend a cool winter evening at the beach and maybe meet the Attorney General and President of the United States-

RFK: Please, I didn’t mean to offend you.

BJ: You didn’t.

RFK: When I get hornswoggled into evenings like this, I find myself checking out the anomalies from a security standpoint. When the anomaly is a woman, well, you see what I mean.

BJ: Given the other women here, It’s good to be an anomaly.

RFK: I’m bored and two drinks over my limit. I don’t normally get so personal with people I just met.

BJ: Want to hear a good joke?

RFK: Sure.

BJ: What did Pat Nixon say about her husband?

RFK: I don’t know.

BJ: Richard was a strange bedfellow long before he entered politics.

RFK (laughing): Jesus, that’s a riot. I’ll have to tell that to-

Garbled (airplane flying overhead). Remainder of BJ-RFK conversation lost to static.

11:05-11:12: Hi-fi noise amp; car noise indicate that BJ is walking thru house amp; that people are leaving the party.

11:13-11:19: BJ talking directly to microphone. (Tell her not to do this. It’s a security risk.)

BJ: I’m out on this deck overlooking the beach. I’m alone, and I’m whispering so people won’t hear what I’m saying or think I’m crazy. I haven’t met the Big Man yet, but I noticed him notice me and nudge Peter like he was saying, who’s the redhead? It’s freezing out here, but I dug a mink coat out of a closet, and now I’m nice and warm. Lenny’s drunk, but I think he’s trying to have a good time. He’s schmoozing with Dean Martin now. The Big Man is in Peter’s bedroom with two blondes. I saw Bobby a few minutes ago. He was eating out of the fridge like a starving man. The Secret Service men are looking through a stack of Playboy Magazines. You can tell they’re thinking, boy, I’m sure glad stodgy old Dick Nixon didn’t get elected. Somebody’s smoking pot out on the beach, and I’m thinking hard to get’s the way to play this. I’m thinking he’ll find me. I heard Bobby tell one of the Secret Service men that the Big Man didn’t want to leave until 1:00. That gives me some time. Lenny said Peter showed him my infamous Nugget Magazine foldout from November, 1956. He’s about 6’ or 6’1”, so with flats on he’ll have a few inches on me. I have to say that Hollywood trash aside, this is one of those moments that young girls write about in their diaries. Also, I declined three invitations to Twist, because I thought it might rip my microphone loose. Did you hear that? The bedroom door behind me just shut, and the two blondes snuck out, giggling. I’m going to shut up now.

11:20-11:27: silence. (Wave noise indicates that BJ has remained on the beach deck.)