The scene is at the mansion of John D. Murchison in Addison, Texas, a few miles north of Dallas, adjoining the grounds of the exclusive Preston Trail Golf Club. A party is in progress to celebrate the start of the first Byron Nelson Classic tournament. Although many guests are dancing to music by strolling musicians, others have already gone through the buffet line and are seated at their tables. A lady in a green dress approaches one table where a young man is eating with his pretty blonde wife and several friends.
LADY (pointing finger at young man): You have simply got to do something about this. I was out there all day today, and I didn't go once. Not once! Let me tell you, it wasn't because I didn't need to. But I will not use those things. They don't even have mirrors!
YOUNG MAN (looking up): Listen, ma'am, I'm sorry, but I don't have the slightest.
LADY: Those Port-O-Sans.
YOUNG MAN: Those what?
LADY: Those toilets on the course. I can't bring myself to use one. I want you to go over there tomorrow and tell the guards to admit me to the clubhouse.
YOUNG MAN: But ladies are barred from the clubhouse. It's the rule.
LADY (with fierce stare, pointing again): You are Don Meredith, aren't you?
YOUNG MAN: Yes ma'am.
LADY: Don't tell me that
doesn't know what to do about a silly rule when he sees one. (She whirls to join her group, then looks back.) I knew you would understand. You're not like the rest.