Extract from Barbara Eden’s ingenious autobiography Jeannie Out of the Bottle, released in April by Crown:
One night we went to see Richard Burton in Camelot, then playing in Chicago, I’d loved Richard Burton ever since seeing him in The Robe … and I was excited to see him onstage in person.
I loved the show, but Chuck yawned loudly most of the way through the first act. As soon as the curtain came down for the interval, he got up, grabbed my arm, and said, “Come on, Barbara, we’re leaving!’
I was mortified, both because I was enjoying the show so much and because I was acutely aware of how big a snub it is to an actor if someone leaves the theater before the play is over, particularly if that person is someone you know. Although we hadn’t yet met Richard Burton, we had mutual friends, and we were scheduled to have dinner with Richard and his wife, Suzy, after the show.
“We can’t walk out in the middle of the show, Chuck,” I said. “Richard Burton will realize and be devastated.”
Chuck snorted. “Don’t be so vain, Barbara. You think you’re so important? Look at how many people there are in the audience. Burton won’t give you a single thought. And he certainly won’t notice that you’ve walked out.”
Crushed, just as he had intended, I gave in, and we left the theatre.
A couple of hours later, we met Richard and Suzy at the designated restaurant for dinner, as arranged.
We had hardly sat down when Richard flashed me an accusatory look with those searing blue eyes, which could burn through your heart and soul.
“I’m so sorry you left the show at the interval, Barbara, You missed the whole second act,” he said.
I could have curled up and died, I felt so horrible.