"What's wrong with him?" Shirley asked, as he shoved the apparatus into his mouth.

"Asthma," said Lucille. "He's had it for years. But it hasn't killed him yet, has it, Andrew?"

He gasped, then wheezed, then after several moments, seemed to breathe more easily. He held the inhaler up for all to see. "Pirbuterol Acetate. The best concoction in the world. And if you ever need any, I recommend you buy it from Janie Hanson at the Pills Etcetera nearest you."

Jane dismissed his comment with a wave of her hand. "He's such a flatterer. What he didn't tell you is we're equipped to handle all types of insurance now, including Medicare, HMOs and PPOs."

"Do you take the Discover card?" Lucille asked. "As many times as I've filled prescriptions, and I still can't remember."

Jane nodded. "Discover. VISA. MasterCard and American Express. Sorry, no personal checks."

"And," Andy continued, "Pills Etcetera is now on-line, so if you want to order anything from Viagra to contact lenses, e-mail Janie at pillsetcetera dot com, and she'll see that it's mailed to you. And she always includes free samples. Rewetting solution with your contact lenses. Toothpaste with new toothbrushes."

I wondered what she included with the Viagra. An inflatable woman?

"I love free samples," said Shirley. "Do you ship to Rhode Island?"

"She ships anywhere." Andy responded for her. "She can even put you on her mailing list so you'll know about upcoming sales and specials. Why don't you give me your E-mail address, honey, and I'll forward it to her when we get back to Iowa."

A waiter plopped a plate in front of my face at that moment, so no one heard the gagging sound I made. The E-mail thing was Andy's favorite line. I figured it was his personal brand of foreplay. When we'd appeared together in Sweeney Todd last spring and A Christmas Carol last year, he'd chatted up several of the actresses electronically, which led to his having extramarital affairs with a couple of them. But he was easily bored, so when a theatrical production ended, he'd dump the old lover and search for a new one at the next production. The man was a slimeball. I was surprised more women couldn't see through him, but I guess when a man bombards you with daily E-mails that claim you're the most important person in his life, you prefer to believe him rather than think he says that to anyone with a uterus.

When he'd asked for my E-mail address, I'd told him it was [email protected]. I guess he must have copied the address down wrong because I never received a message from him.

"This is such fun," Shirley cooed as she patted Andy's hand. "My E-mail address is all in capital letters. LOVESLAVE at HERA dot COM."

I cringed. All in caps. Of course. You might miss it otherwise.

"And mine is simonsays at spirit dot net. Just in case you ever want to drop me a line."