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STANLEY: Oh, your father too!

HAPPY: You got a couple of nice lobsters?

STANLEY: Hundred percent, big.

HAPPY: I want them with the claws.

STANLEY: Don’t worry, I don’t give you no mice. [HAPPY laughs.] How about some wine? It’ll put a head on the meal.

HAPPY: No. You remember, Stanley, that recipe I brought you from overseas? With the champagne in it?

STANLEY: Oh, yeah, sure. I still got it tacked up yet in the kitchen. But that’ll have to cost a buck apiece anyways.

HAPPY: That’s all right.

STANLEY: What’d you, hit a number or somethin’?

HAPPY: No, it’s a little celebration. My brother is—I think he pulled off a big deal today. I think we’re going into business together.

STANLEY: Great! That’s the best for you. Because a family business, you know what I mean?—that’s the best.

HAPPY: That’s what I think.

STANLEY: ’Cause what’s the difference? Somebody steals? It’s in the family. Know what I mean? [Sotto voce] Like this bartender here. The boss is goin’ crazy what kinda leak he’s got in the cash register. You put it in but it don’t come out.

HAPPY [raising his head]: Sh!

STANLEY: What?

HAPPY: You notice I wasn’t lookin’ right or left, was I?

STANLEY: No.

HAPPY: And my eyes are closed.

STANLEY: So what’s the—?

HAPPY: Strudel’s comin’.

STANLEY [catching on, looks around]: Ah, no, there’s no—[He breaks off as a furred, lavishly dressed girl enters and sits at the next table. Both follow her with their eyes.]

STANLEY: Geez, how’d ya know?

HAPPY: I got radar or something. [Staring directly at her profile] Oooooooo . . . Stanley.

STANLEY: I think that’s for you, Mr. Loman.

HAPPY: Look at that mouth. Oh, God. And the binoculars.

STANLEY: Geez, you got a life, Mr. Loman.

HAPPY: Wait on her.

STANLEY [going to the girl’s table]: Would you like a menu, ma’am?

GIRL: I’m expecting someone, but I’d like a—

HAPPY: Why don’t you bring her—excuse me, miss, do you mind? I sell champagne, and I’d like you to try my brand. Bring her a champagne, Stanley.

GIRL: That’s awfully nice of you.

HAPPY: Don’t mention it. It’s all company money. [He laughs.]

GIRL: That’s a charming product to be selling, isn’t it?

HAPPY: Oh, gets to be like everything else. Selling is selling, y’know.

GIRL: I suppose.

HAPPY: You don’t happen to sell, do you?

GIRL: No, I don’t sell.

HAPPY: Would you object to a compliment from a stranger? You ought to be on a magazine cover.

GIRL [looking at him a little archly]: I have been.

[STANLEY comes in with a glass of champagne.]

HAPPY: What’d I say before, Stanley? You see? She’s a cover girl.

STANLEY: Oh, I could see, I could see.

HAPPY [to the GIRL]: What magazine?

GIRL: Oh, a lot of them. [She takes the drink.] Thank you.

HAPPY: You know what they say in France, don’t you? “Champagne is the drink of the complexion”—Hya, Biff!

[BIFF has entered and sits with HAPPY.]

BIFF: Hello, kid. Sorry I’m late.

HAPPY: I just got here. Uh, Miss—?

GIRL: Forsythe.

HAPPY: Miss Forsythe, this is my brother.

BIFF: Is Dad here?

HAPPY: His name is Biff. You might’ve heard of him. Great football player.

GIRL: Really? What team?

HAPPY: Are you familiar with football?

GIRL: No, I’m afraid I’m not.

HAPPY: Biff is quarterback with the New York Giants.

GIRL: Well, that is nice, isn’t it? [She drinks.]

HAPPY: Good health.

GIRL: I’m happy to meet you.

HAPPY: That’s my name. Hap. It’s really Harold, but at West Point they called me Happy.

GIRL [now really impressed]: Oh, I see. How do you do? [She turns her profile.]

BIFF: Isn’t Dad coming?

HAPPY: You want her?

BIFF: Oh, I could never make that.

HAPPY: I remember the time that idea would never come into your head. Where’s the old confidence, Biff?

BIFF: I just saw Oliver—

HAPPY: Wait a minute. I’ve got to see that old confidence again. Do you want her? She’s on call.

BIFF: Oh, no. [He turns to look at the GIRL.]

HAPPY: I’m telling you. Watch this. [Turning to the GIRL] Honey? [She turns to him.] Are you busy?

GIRL: Well, I am . . . but I could make a