I picked up my next man in Bloomingdale’s department store in New York — or rather, my friend Phyllis did.
She’d spotted a handsome man who looked familiar and realised it was Bob Fallon, a producer acquaintance from Hollywood.
She also knew that Bob had recently lost his wife, Marie Wilson, an actress famous for her pin-up qualities.
Phyllis moved right in. ‘You know Debbie Reynolds, don’t you? Why don’t you come by for a drink?’
My divorce had just come through and she thought Bob would be a nice man for me to date — which turned out to be true. We hit it off right away. He also hit it off with my Diners Club card. From day one, he lived beautifully on it.
But he was the first lover I really enjoyed having sex with, and he treated me well. We went on cruises to Italy, Australia and Bali, and stayed together for about eight years.
Unfortunately for me, Bob was also a player who felt the need to screw every woman he met. He really believed that it would hurt their feelings if he didn’t have sex with them. Maybe that’s what I should have expected from a match made at a department store.