"As in GurlyGurl. In fact she's pretty desirable all across the board."
"No whiny voice, huh?"
"A nice voice. Kind of throaty."
"She could live in Manhattan and still be a long ways away. Washington Heights, say."
" Washington Heights isn't that far. I had a girlfriend in Washington Heights."
"That's what I was referring to."
"Well, it was a disaster, but you couldn't blame it on the neighborhood. It was just a disaster. Anyway, she lives closer than that, because she walks to work, and it only takes her fifteen minutes."
"Where does she work?"
"Forty-fifth and Madison. That's why she picked the Algonquin. Why?"
"I just wondered. So if she lives fifteen minutes from there, she could live in the East Sixties."
"I suppose."
"Or the West Fifties."
"So?"
"Or the East Thirties."
"What are you getting at, Bern?"
"I just want to make sure," I said.
"You want to make sure of what?"
"That she's not who I'm afraid she is."
"Huh?"
"Because it would be a coincidence," I said, "but coincidences happen all the time, and I've had the feeling one's on its way right about now. And if it turns out that she's who I think she is-"
"Who do you think she is?"
"This would be a lot easier," I said, "if the two of you had told each other your names, but as it stands-"
"We did."
"You did?"
"Of course we did, Bern. You only keep it anonymous until you actually meet. We told each other our names right away. Before the old guy brought the drinks, even."
"What did you say your name was?"
"I said it was Carolyn, Bern. Carolyn Kaiser. Not very imaginative, I know, but I just went and pulled a name out of the air, and-"
"What did she say?"
"She said, 'Hi, Carolyn.' Taking me at my word, not suspecting for a moment that I'd lie about a thing like that, and-"
"What did she say her name was?"
"Lacey Kavinoky," she said, "which rhymes with okie-dokey."
"You're sure?"
"That it rhymes? Positive, Bern. No question in my mind."
"I mean-"
"I know what you mean. Am I sure it's her name? I'm sure it's what she said. Was I supposed to ask to see her driver's license? Are you gonna tell me who you were afraid she was?"
"Barbara Creeley."
"Barbara Creeley. The one who got-"
"Burgled and date-raped. Yeah, you don't have to tell me. I know it's ridiculous."
"I think it would have to make a lot more sense," she said, "in order to be no worse than ridiculous. There are eight million people in New York, Bern. What are the odds?"
"Eight million in the five boroughs," I said. "Only two million in Manhattan, if that many."
"One in two million?"
"Half of the two million are male," I said. "Of the one million left, by the time you cross out the ones who are under twenty and over fifty, and the married ones, and-"
"I see where you're going with this," she said, "and you're still nuts."
"You're right."
"Anyway, forget it. Lacey's not Barbara."
"I know."
"It would not only be a coincidence, it'd be a dumb one."
"I know."
"I sound like I'm pissed off, don't I? I'm not. I'm just sort of incredulous, that's all."
"Whatever you say."
"Her name's Lacey Kavinoky," she said, "and she's cute and bright and genuinely nice. And she's gay, Bern, and she knows it. She's not one of those oh-I-always-thought-it-might-be-interesting-to-try-being-with-a-woman women. She's not one of those variety's-the-spice-of-life women, either. She's like me, she's got nothing against men, and high on the list of things she doesn't hold against them is her beautiful body. You remember that song?"
"I remember."
" 'If I said you had a beautiful body, would you hold it against me?' Well, if you told her, Bern, she wouldn't."
"Great."
"But she might hold it against me. We'll see. But there's one thing I can tell you for sure, and that's that she's not Barbara Creeley. She's Lacey, Lacey Kavinoky, and if anybody date-rapes her it's gonna be me."