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.)

11:28-11:40: BJ amp; JFK.

JFK: Hi.

BJ: Jesus.

JFK: Hardly, but thanks anyway.

BJ: How about, hello, Mr. President?

JFK: How about, hello, Jack?

BJ: Hello, Jack.

JFK: What’s your name?

BJ: Barb Jahelka.

JFK: You don’t look like a Jahelka.

BJ: It’s Lindscott, actually. I work with my exhusband, so I kept my married name.

JFK: Is Lindscott Irish?

BJ: It’s an Anglo-German bastardization.

JFK: The Irish are all bastards. Bastards, cranks and drunks.

BJ: Can I quote you?

JFK: After I’m re-elected. Put it in the portable John F. Kennedy, next to ‘Ask not what your country can do for you.’

BJ: Can I ask you a question?

JFK: Sure.

BJ: Is being President of the United States the biggest fucking blast on earth?

JFK (sustained laughter): It truly is. Your supporting cast of characters is worth the price of admission alone.

BJ: For instance?

JFK: That rube Lyndon Johnson. Charles de Gaulle, who’s had a poker up his ass since the year 1910. That closet fairy J. Edgar Hoover. These crazy Cuban exiles my brother’s been dealing with, 80% of whom are lowlife scum. Harold Macmillan, who defines the word-

MU2: Excuse me, Mr. President.

JFK: Yes?

MU1: You have a call.

JFK: Tell them I’m busy.

MU2: It’s Governor Brown.

JFK: Tell him I’ll call him back.

MU1: Yes, Sir.

JFK: So, Barb, did you vote for me?

BJ: I was on tour, so I didn’t get the chance to vote.

JFK: You could have cast an absentee ballot.

BJ: It slipped my mind.

JFK: What’s more important, the Twist or my career?

BJ: The Twist.

JFK (sustained laughter): Excuse my naivete. When you ask a silly question.

BJ: It was more like ask a candid question, get a candid answer.

JFK: That’s true. You know, my brother thinks you’re overqualified for this party.

BJ: He acts like he’s slumming himself.

JFK: That’s perceptive.

BJ: Your brother never won a dime at poker.

JFK: Which is one of his strengths. Now, what happens when this silly dance craze of yours wears itself out?

BJ: I’ll have saved enough money to set my sister up in a Bob’s Big Boy franchise in Tunnel City, Wisconsin.

JFK: I carried Wisconsin.

BJ: I know. My sister voted for you.

JFK: What about your parents?

BJ: My father’s dead. My mother hates Catholics, so she voted for Nixon.

JFK: A split vote isn’t too bad. That’s a lovely mink, by the way.

BJ: I borrowed It from Peter.

JFK: Then it’s one of the six thousand furs my father bought my sisters.

BJ: I read about your father’s stroke. It made me sad.

JFK: Don’t be. He’s too evil to die. And by the way, do you travel with that revue Peter told me about?

BJ: Constantly. In fact, I’m leaving for an East Coast swing on the 27th.

JFK: Would you leave your itinerary with the White House switchboard? I thought we might have dinner if our schedules permit.

BJ: I’d like that. And I will call.

JFK: Please. And take the mink with you. You do things for it that my sister never could.

BJ: I couldn’t.

JFK: I insist. Really, she won’t miss it.

BJ: All right, then.

JFK: I don’t normally raid people’s closets, but I want you to have it.

BJ: Thank you, Jack.

JFK: My pleasure. And regretfully, I have to make some phone calls.

BJ: Until next time, then.

JFK: Yes. That’s the way to look at it.

MU1: Mr. President?

JFK: Hold on, I’m coming.

11:41-12:03: silence. (Wave noise indicates that BJ has remained on the beach deck.)

12:03-12:09: garbled voices and hi-fi noise. (Obvious departures throughout.)

12:10: BJ amp; LS leave the party. Live tape feed olose: 12:11 a.m., February 20, 1962.