There used to a young philosopher in New York who could not tell a straight story. Everything that happened to him was amazing, unbelievable, astounding, baroque. I thought he had the most remarkable life, until one evening when we both went to the same dinner party.

A few things happened at the dinner party: Someone almost spilled a drink on the philosopher; Lillian Hellman, blind, was led through the dining room with great care by the young man who took care of her. The roast lamb was good, and the hosts were kind, even if an older writer, standing with me by the fireplace, shot me a look of hatred when I said I was about to have my first novel published.

Being the two youngest people at the dinner, the philosopher and I went on to Elaine’s afterwards, to continue the evening with friends. As I sat in the smoky gloom of Elaine’s I heard the philosopher talk about the party we had just left.

Someone had poured a bottle of red wine over his head. Funny, I thought, I must have been in the other room. As I scrutinized his shirt for stains, he told the table that Lillian Hellman had fallen flat on her face. “Blind, you know. She was trying walk through the dining room alone, poor thing, and no one would move aside for her. That’s how much they hate her now”. I was shaking my head. Someone asked if Lillian Hellman was all right. He explained that the wealthy and powerful hosts had summoned their own doctor, who had bandaged her bleeding arm, but that the old battle-ax had merely demanded another tumbler of neat Scotch and refused to leave the dining table.

I tried to tell our friends what had really happened, but he was too quick. Pointing at me, he shook his head, and exclaimed: “And Joan! Do you know she actually got attacked?”

“No!!!” went the chorus.

“No!!!" I said weakly.

“Yes!!” said the philosopher. “She and that old writer were standing by the fireplace, and he picked up the fire tongs and tried to bash her head in when she said she had a novel coming out. It’s a miracle she survived.”

Everyone congratulated me on dodging a bullet.

Just like Hillary did in Bosnia.