I know she's got a big job ahead of her shampooing the sand out of that braid. Maybe I could go over and give her a hand. I'll call and offer my assistance. What a fine and generous idea. But just as I'm about to, the phone rings.
Plane leaves in an hour.
And on the way out we gotta go by and settle up with the barkeep for the samba club. I ask from a dark corner in Stuporville. David asks me. The bartender took the waving as confirmation. I say a few words of contrition and hang up.