At a 1947 forum at the Beverly Wilshire Hotel, a brash young friend asked me to keep his seat while he was off being brash.
A woman, almost formless under layered sweaters, approached to ask me if the seat was taken.
I replied, "Yes, I'm sorry," and I've been sorry ever since. Because when I looked at her face, I saw it was Ava Gardner.
If I had allowed myself a quota of mistakes, turning down this glorious beauty surely would have used up my quota far into the future.