Fred Astaire and I fall in love. I leave my mate to run away with Fred. We get in a beautiful, white convertible and Fred is driving. Unfortunately, he is drunk. I am curled up around him and watching the road nervously. I suggest that I drive. He says he's fine and swerves. I say, "Let's stop at the next Inn and sleep." He smiles and agrees. We do that. He wakes up, sober, and crying out for his wife. He doesn't love me any more. He leaves. I'm hurt. I keep the car, but have no money. I pretend I'm wealthy. I look gorgeous in my blue evening gown of sequins and fringe, very form fitting. The guys stare at me lustily as I go by. I go to the back yard to take a morning swim. At first I can't find the swimming pool, only a shallow mud hole. Then I see it. I walk past the lovely buffet breakfast, take off two layers of slinky robes, to the enjoyment of the men that followed me from the inn. I dive in and swim back up to the surface. There are ropes across and I take one end, swim across and hook the rope both ends together. Now my way is clear so I swim. Later, I go back into the Inn. Someone says, "She can't pay," and they follow me up to my room. I fess up to them and offer to sell the car (which I feel uneasy about anyway because it could be considered stolen.)