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Bogey Greets the PrinceFacebooktwittergoogle_pluslinkedinmail

“Mike, where’s my invitation to meet the prince?”

“Sorry, Bogey, but only my most cultured clients will be there,” said Beverly Hills restaurateur Mike Romanoff.

“I’ve never met a real European prince and damn well want to.”

“You’d embarrass me.”

“The prince would be impressed to meet a movie star.”

“There’ll be a lot of stars here tomorrow night, and I trust all of them.”

“I thought we were friends, Mike.”

“We are.”

“What if I promise to behave?”

“I wouldn’t believe it,” said Romanoff.

“Maybe I’ll start having lunch elsewhere.”

“You’d miss me too much.”

“How about I leave you a thousand dollar deposit, Mike?”

“All right.”

“I’ll drop off the dough tomorrow afternoon.”

“I don’t need a deposit. Just your word you’ll behave. No more than a half dozen drinks.”

“Doubles or triples?”


“You’ll have a coat and tie ready for me, won’t you, Mike?”

“I’m already reconsidering. Maybe it’s best you skip this gala.”

“Relax, I’ll bring my own coat and tie.”

“That would be a delightful first.”

The tall and distinguished prince, forged by several great central European royal families, smiled often as he charmed many glamorous stars, and the party proceeded famously.

“Prince, may I join you here?” Bogey asked, stepping to the table and exhaling smoke.

“You certainly may. You’re a wonderful actor.”

“Thanks.” He sat across from Mike Romanoff, who was next to the prince.

“You were absolutely marvelous in Casablanca,” said the prince.

“I appreciate that. And I wanna tell you your English is perfect. How’d you learn to speak so damn well.”

“I was most fortunate to have a British governess.”

“Oh, yeah,” said Bogey, “did you fuck her?”

Notes: I learned the punch line of this meeting years ago when I read Bogie: The Definitive Biography of Humphrey Bogart by Joe Hyams.

This entry was posted in Alcohol, Hubert Humphrey, Movies, Tobacco.