LENNY: What?
DEMARIS: I was juss playin’ and you shit your pants like a bitch!
MISS REYES: Demaris!
DEMARIS: (To MISS REYES) You got something to say? (To LENNY) You got raped, huh?
LENNY: Demaris …
DEMARIS: Doan worry, I ain’t tellin’ nobody. You a bitch, though. Get up, Ma, less go.
MISS REYES: Okay, baby.
DEMARIS: Doan forget to remind me to get the Pampers on the way home.
MISS REYES: Yes, honey … I’m sorry, Lenny. She not like this when she takes her medicat—
DEMARIS: Shut your ass! (To LENNY) You know what, though? At least the man who put his dick in your ass wasn’t family. (To MISS REYES) Less go, bitch. Less go get a margarita.
MISS REYES: Yes, baby.
DEMARIS: Less go!
(They exit. SAMMY is sleeping. LENNY is alone. A beat.)
(Jake, the owner, enters from the back, sees SAMMY sleeping.)
JAKE: Hey! Hey, fuckin’ Rip Van Winkle, wake up! Hey!
SAMMY: Huh?
JAKE: Get the fuck outta here!
SAMMY: Shkeckin, shiiber froo.
JAKE: This ain’t a fuckin’ hotel. Get out, old man!! (To LENNY) This fuckin’ bum, I should charge him a day rate. (To SAMMY) Next time you come in here, I’m gonna charge you $22.50 for the day, like the fuckin’ Carlton Arms! You got that, Father Time?
SAMMY: Your Father—
JAKE: My father’s dead, juss like you gonna be, any fuckin’ day now.
SAMMY: This used to be a nice place.
JAKE: Yeah, then you came in.
(Sammy rises, crosses to the exit.)
SAMMY: When you talk, I laugh.
JAKE: Well, laugh outside.
SAMMY: I’m laughin’.
(Sammy exits, SKANK enters.)
SKANK: Hey, man.
JAKE: Out!
SKANK: Right.
(SKANK exits.)
LENNY: Say, Jake, where the bartender?
JAKE: I fired his ass.
LENNY: Good.
JAKE: He’s in the back, callin’ Ireland, cryin’.
LENNY: I been tryin’ to get a drink for—
JAKE: Daisy Hernandez, you know her?
LENNY: Thass my girl.
JAKE: Yeah? Take her mail. Tell her she can’t get her mail here no more.
LENNY: Why not?
JAKE: Making changes ’round here.
LENNY: Changes?
JAKE: Thass right. This ain’t gonna be a skeeve house no more.
LENNY: Yeah?
JAKE: Dass right.
LENNY: Well, thass good. Those people, they destroy the atmosphere, right?
JAKE: (To himself) Where’s the friggin’ key, damn it?
LENNY: Lemme get a … lemme get a shot a 151.
JAKE: Last call was twenty minutes ago.
LENNY: What?
JAKE: Bar is closed.
LENNY: Yeah, but—
JAKE: Bar is closed.
LENNY: Lemme juss—
JAKE: Bar is closed.
LENNY: I know, but—
JAKE: Bar is closed.
LENNY: Look—
JAKE: Bar is closed.
LENNY: You know what? You got a attitude!
JAKE: Also got a bar, and it’s closed.
Scene 2. Monday morning. 9 a.m. An office on Thirty-seventh Street.
VIC: Siddown, Mr … .
LENNY: Lenny.
VIC: “Mr. Lenny,” have a seat.
LENNY: Yes, sir …
VIC: Sit. That’s some cologne you’re wearing.
LENNY: Thanks, uh, you want some?
VIC: I think you got us both covered there, Lenny. Quick question: You been drinkin’?
LENNY: Uh …
VIC: It’s okay.
LENNY: Long night, but—
VIC: It’s okay. If Vic says, “It’s okay,” then, it’s okay … okay?
LENNY: Um …
VIC: Say “Okay.”
LENNY: Okay.
VIC: If we find you drinkin’ on the job, you’re out on your ass though, okay?
LENNY: I wouldn’t do that—
VIC: So, Mr. Lenny, tell me: Why do you want to be an On-Site Field Marketeer?
LENNY: Uh, I thought this job was for handin’ out flyers.
VIC: It is.
LENNY: Oh.
VIC: But it’s a lot more than that, Lenny. Lemme ask you somethin’, Len: Where do you see yourself in five years?
LENNY: Thass a … I see myself … You know what I see, uh—
VIC: Lemme tell ya a little story, Len. Three years ago, I was right where you are now.
LENNY: Yeah?
VIC: Worse. Times are tough, right?
LENNY: A little.
VIC: Not for me, Len, not anymore, and I’ll tell ya why: They took my house, they took my wife, my kids, my car, all the creature comforts, you know what they didn’t take? Ask me what they didn’t take!
LENNY: What—
VIC: My initiative, Len! A man with initiative, like yourself, like me, they can’t take that away. Tell me the truth: You almost didn’t come, right?
LENNY: It’s true.
VIC: But you did come. Hey! They can send me all the college grads and M.B.A.’s they want, you know what I say? I say, Send me one man with initiative. I don’t want Yale, fuck Yale! Give me one guy: School a Hard Knocks and some fire in his eye. You got that fire Len?
LENNY: I do.
VIC: ’Cuz if you don’t, please, tell me now.
LENNY: Nah, I got it.
VIC: Okay … The moustache, it goes. We like our Marketeers clean shaven.
LENNY: My moustache?
VIC: Policy. Now, hypothetical question: How many flyers you think you can hand out in ten hours?
LENNY: Uh, like a thousand?
VIC: Doesn’t help me. You could hand out two thousand, three; you could toss half a them in a garbage—
LENNY: I wouldn’t do that.
VIC: That’s not the point. The point is, Can you get the people up here? Can you get ten people per day to come up here, apply for a credit card?
LENNY: Credit card?
VIC: You wanna hand out Chinese takeout? That’s across the street. You wanna make commissions? That’s here. Every person you get up here, applies for a no-deposit, low-interest credit card, pays the fee, and gets accepted, that’s five dollars in your pocket! Get ten people, that’s fifty! Get twenty people, Len, you’re lookin at one hundred a day, and that’s on top of your regular three bucks an hour!
LENNY: Three bucks an hour?
VIC: After training, yeah. Now, here’s a piece a paper. I want you to write down the name, address, and phone number of twenty of your friends and family, anybody you know who’s got bad credit.
LENNY: For what?
VIC: Every name you give me, it’s like you’ve handed out a flyer. Anybody you know buys a credit card from us, five dollars in your pocket.
LENNY: You know what? I would prefer to just hand out the flyers. With my moustache still on, if that’s possible.
VIC: I’m sorry to hear that. Tell you what, why don’t you give me a call next week?
LENNY: No, no, you don’t understand. I could hand out the flyers, I’m good at that.
VIC: I’m sure you are. Call me next week.
LENNY: Okay, look, I’ll shave the moustache, it’s not a problem.
VIC: Like I said—
LENNY: I see how they hand out those flyers on the street, most a those guys, they don’t do it right, I watch them—
VIC: Lenny, I got another appointment coming in.
LENNY: All right, why don’t you just give me back my application fee, and I’ll take off.
VIC: Nonrefundable.
LENNY: What?
VIC: Is this your signature?
LENNY: Hey! Juss gimme my fuckin’ five dollahs back.
VIC: (Into intercom) Ray? Get Rakim and Sal in here, we got a problem with an ap
plicant.
LENNY: Who you think you playin’ wit? Gimme my fuckin’ five dollahs!
(RAKIM and SAL enter.)
RAKIM: Problem?
LENNY: What is this, a mugging?
VIC: Show Lenny the lobby.
Scene 3: Monday. Late morning. The bar.
CHARLIE: Have you got a eight?
CHICKIE: No.
CHARLIE: You’re supposed to say “Go Fish.”
CHICKIE: Oh.
CHARLIE: Have you gotta nine?
CHICKIE: No.
CHARLIE: Chickie?
CHICKIE: What?
CHARLIE: You gotta say “Go Fish.”
CHICKIE: Oh.
CHARLIE: So say it then.
CHICKIE: Go Fish.
CHARLIE: Your turn.
CHICKIE: Okay, um, do you have a nine?
CHARLIE: Yeah.
CHICKIE: I’ll take that, thank you very much.
CHARLIE: Wait a sec, Chickie. I just axed you, do you gotta nine and you said no, so how come now you gotta nine?
CHICKIE: I don’t know.
CHARLIE: You do too know!
CHICKIE: No I don’t.
CHARLIE: If I ax you do you got something and you got it, you gotta give it to me.
CHICKIE: Why?
CHARLIE: ’Cuz that’s the game, understand?
CHICKIE: Yeah.
CHARLIE: Okay. You gotta jack?
CHICKIE: No.
CHARLIE: C’mon, Chickie, I know you gotta jack.
CHICKIE: No.
CHARLIE: Chickie, look me in my eye and tell me you ain’t got no jack?
CHICKIE: Oh, okay, here.
CHARLIE: Thank you.
CHICKIE: You happy?
CHARLIE: Yeah, I’m very happy.
CHICKIE: You don’t look happy.
CHARLIE: It’s your turn.
CHICKIE: I don’t wanna play. I’m hungry.
CHARLIE: You wanna eat something?
CHICKIE: Yeah.
CHARLIE: Whaddya wanna eat?
CHICKIE: Fish! Shrimps!
CHARLIE: You can’t eat shrimps for breakfast. Shrimps are for lunch or dinner, not breakfast.
CHICKIE: Can I eat lunch or dinner with you?
CHARLIE: If you want.
CHICKIE: Okay.
CHARLIE: Breakfast is for Egg McMuffins and chocolate milk, maybe some cereals, or, like, if it’s a Sunday or a special day, you could have pancakes and bacon or waffles wit whip cream, somethin’ like that. Oh! You know what?
CHICKIE: What?
CHARLIE: You could have salmon for breakfast, that’s a breakfast thing.
CHICKIE: What’s salmon?
CHARLIE: Whaddya mean?
CHICKIE: I mean, what’s salmon?
CHARLIE: You don’t know what a salmon is?
CHICKIE: What is it?
CHARLIE: A salmon is a salmon. It’s a pink fish.
CHICKIE: Is it good?
CHARLIE: I don’t know but, it’s a fish.
CHICKIE: How about pizza?
CHARLIE: A pizza’s not a fish, Chickie.
CHICKIE: Duh! I know that! I mean, How ’bout pizza? For breakfast?
CHARLIE: Pizza for breakfast?
CHICKIE: Yeah. Pleeeease?
CHARLIE: Okay, pizza it is.
CHICKIE: From the Arab place, okay?
CHARLIE: The Arabs?
CHICKIE: Please?
CHARLIE: Okay, from the Arabs.
CHICKIE: Sometimes I think you’re nicer than my boyfriend.
CHARLIE: I am nicer than your boyfriend.
CHICKIE: No, you’re not.
(Pause)
CHARLIE: I gotta go wash some glasses. Here’s some dough for the pizza.
CHICKIE: You gotta girlfriend, Charlie?
CHARLIE: Yeah. I got five girlfriends.
CHICKIE: How come they never come around?
CHARLIE: ’Cuz they doan live here.
CHICKIE: Charlie? Do you think some time we could do something? I mean, not as girlfriend and boyfriend, but, like, the way we are now?
CHARLIE: Yeah, we could do that.
CHICKIE: Charlie?
CHARLIE: Yeah?
CHICKIE: How come you’re so big but Jose kicked your ass, and Jimmy and Ra Ra, they kicked your ass too?
CHARLIE: I doan know.
CHICKIE: And that guy Ronnie, and that crazy guy with the hat that time, they kicked your ass too. Even my boyfriend could prolly kick your ass.
CHARLIE: I don’t think so.
Our Lady of 121st Street Page 19