When my friend, Harry Douglas, from New York, heard that I would be in Philadelphia, he told me to contact a lady acquaintance of his. She had won the Miss Philadelphia contest some years ago. We went to a bar called The Library.
We were sitting and talking when someone blotted out the overhead lights. I looked up to see Joe Frazier. He asked me if he could dance with my date, and of course, I said yes.
After two songs, they returned to our table. Joe bowed and shook my hand. “Mr. Prewitt, right?”
I nodded.
“It’s such a pleasure meeting you.”
“Uh. Thanks, Joe.”
After he left, I asked, “What was that all about?”
She said, “I told him you were a movie star so he would stop hitting on me.”
“I could have taken care of it,” I said with a straight face.
