"What's your sign?"

The question surprised her; it seemed abrupt and obligatory, something said to create conversation and not asked out of genuine curiosity. "Gemini. You?"

"Virgo."

"Oh." She did not know what to say.

"I didn't think you were a Gemini. I would have guessed Cancer."

"Either you're not a very good judge of character, or else it doesn't mean anything." She was not a great believer in astrology. He laughed and stand at the minor opposite the counter; finding her mildly sullen face reflected back at him.

He turned his head quickly. "Listen, would you rather I left you alone? It's really all right, it you would."

She felt a glimmer of compassion for him, though she had already classified him an idiot. She already felt the effects of the two drinks, for she hardly ever indulged in alcohol. There was no use really in continuing the ruse, and besides, she was impatient with it. Jack whatever-his-name-was would do as well as any other man.

"No, I'm sorry," she said, and now her voice was soft, just loud enough for him to hear as he strained. "I guess I am being a bitch. Why don't you take me home? Maybe if we can talk, I'll calm down." Only as the heavy words poured from her mouth did she realize that she was indeed tense, that she was afraid of this man she was about to use.

He forged a path for her through the tides of festive young men and women. In the parking lot he handed his ticket and a half-dollar piece to the attendant. A late-model Plymouth was driven out, and he turned to her. "Did you drive?"

"Yes," she answered. "But you can drive me back here, after." She paused and widened her eyes as she added, "I'm a bit drunk, you see." Her escort smiled, then walked around the car and held the door open for her.