Our Lady of 121st Street
Page 21
SKANK: Yeah, Sam.
SAMMY: Good. Fuck her.
SKANK: Okay.
SAMMY: Don’t marry a good woman.
GREER: We won’t.
SAMMY: Marry a bitch, you’ll sleep better.
(Pause)
SKANK: That old guy’s got an iron grip—
GREER: What’s your name?
SKANK: My name?
GREER: Thass okay. I’m Greer.
SKANK: Hey, Greer.
GREER: I’m in real estate. You think a location like this could make money?
SKANK: Huh? Yeah, definitely.
GREER: So, what do you do?
SKANK: Me?
GREER: Actor?
SKANK: I done some acting.
GREER: I thought you looked familiar.
SKANK: Yeah. You saw Superman Three?
GREER: I think so.
SKANK: I had an audition for that. What about Gladiators; you saw Gladiators, boxing movie?
GREER: You know what? Yes. I saw that.
SKANK: Okay, in the beginning, when the Spanish kid with the rattail, when he starts fighting and he beats that white guy with the tattoo?
GREER: Yeah?
SKANK: That’s me, man.
GREER: Really?
SKANK: Look, see, here’s my tattoo. In real life, the scene, it was longer, but in the movie it was like, “There I am, boom! I’m down”! You know that show Homicide? The kid with the rattail, he’s on that show. He’s a friend of mine. Jon Seda, man.
GREER: I don’t know him, but I bet you’re a lot better than him.
SKANK: Yeah, well, nah, he’s a good guy. I’m supposed to go see him, me and Chickie, we’re supposed to go for, like, a visit, but, like, you know, schedules and shit. You think you could gimme twenty dollahs?
GREER: For what?
SKANK: I’ll come right back.
GREER: You’ll come back?
SKANK: I juss gotta pick up this prescription, over at the Rite Aid—
GREER: Prescription?
SKANK: Yeah, it’s my aunt. She gotta disease, man, it’s bad.
GREER: What kinda disease?
SKANK: It’s really bad, man. It’s … a bad one.
GREER: Look, it’s not that I don’t trust you—
SKANK: Greer, man, I’ll pay ya back. My friend, he’s comin’ by, he’s supposed to be here, he got money, he owes me money, he’s rich! Maybe you know him. Nic Cage, the actor?
GREER: Nic Cage is comin’ here?!
SKANK: Yeah, man. We took a class together.
GREER: You’re fuckin’ cute, you know that?
SKANK: Yeah?
GREER: With your bitchin’ little body. Lemme see your abs.
SKANK: Hey, man.
GREER: You want twenty dollahs? Lemme see your abs.
(SKANK lifts his shirt.)
GREER: Nice.
SKANK: You like that?
GREER: Yeah.
SKANK: I look good, right?
GREER: Okay, I give you twenty dollahs, whatchu gonna give me?
SKANK: Hey, man, I’m not takin’ the money, I’m juss borrowing it. My friend’s—
GREER: Yeah, yeah, Nic Cage, sick aunt, suck my dick, kiss my ass, okay? I give you twenty dollahs, whatchu gonna give me?
SKANK: Lissen, man—
GREER: Okay, good night.
(GREER goes to leave.)
SKANK: Wait, wait, wait! Siddown!
GREER: Talk to me, girl.
SKANK: Shit, man! What happened to trust, dude? What happened to taking a man at his word?
GREER: I sat back down for this?
SKANK: I’m juss sayin’—
GREER: You think you the only piece a ass on this street? I’ll walk out that door right now and I’ll find Younger, Better Looking, and Better Abs.
SKANK: So go then.
GREER: No. I’m gonna hear you out, ’cuz you got nice eyes. You got nice eyes, you know that?
SKANK: You like my eyes?
GREER: Your eyes got tragedy in them.
SKANK: Tragedy?
GREER: Tragedy’s sexy … Talk to me, tragedy, do business with me.
SKANK: Okay, first of all, forget twenty dollahs, okay?
GREER: It’s forgotten.
SKANK: Sixty dollahs.
GREER: Sixty dollahs for what?
SKANK: Okay. Sixty dollahs, we go to the bathroom.
GREER: Okay.
SKANK: I do a little show.
GREER: What kinda show?
SKANK: A sexy show.
GREER: Yeah?
SKANK: I’ll gyrate, I’ll touch myself.
GREER: Speak English.
SKANK: Okay, I’ll jerk off for you. You can jerk off too.
GREER: Sixty dollahs so I could jerk myself off? I could do that at home for free watchin’ the damn Blue Lagoon.
SKANK: Yeah, but with me, you get me.
GREER: Can I touch you?
SKANK: No.
GREER: You must be joking.
SKANK: Okay, you can touch me a little. My chest, my arms.
GREER: Your ass?
SKANK: Sorry, man. You can’t touch my ass.
GREER: Forget it then.
SKANK: You wanna touch my ass? For eighty, you can touch it.
GREER: Eighty dollahs to touch your ass?
SKANK: I’m givin’ you a competitive price.
GREER: For eighty dollahs I’m entering that ass! For eighty dollahs, that ass gonna hail me a cab home, tip the driver, and cook me breakfast in bed the next morning.
SKANK: I don’t think you’re aware of the current marketplace—
GREER: Lemme tell you something about the marketplace, girl—
SKANK: I’m not a girl—
GREER: I’m sorry, baby—
SKANK: I’m not a baby and I am not a fuckin’ girl! You wanna talk business, let’s talk business! Eighty dollahs.
GREER: You wanna talk business?
SKANK: Thass what I’m sayin’.
GREER: I’m gonna put it like this: Twenty dollahs, we go into the bathroom, you suck my dick.
SKANK: Suck your dick? Dude, you’re outta your mind.
GREER: Is this a racial thing?
SKANK: Fuck you, man.
GREER: Good night!
SKANK: Look, uh, if you want a blow job, Chickie’ll do that for you.
GREER: “Chickie”? What the hell I want with Chickie?
SKANK: You wanna blow job, Chickie blows.
GREER: Chickie ain’t comin’ back.
SKANK: Yeah she is.
GREER: How many crackheads you know, you give ’em a ten-dollah bill, they gonna come back?
SKANK: Look man, if I say Chickie’s comin’ back, then, she’s comin’ back.
GREER: We goin’ to the bathroom or not?
SKANK: Look—
GREER: Good night!
SKANK: Wait!
GREER: I said, good night, Sweet Prince, this show is over!
SKANK: Fuck!
GREER: What?
SKANK: Fuck! (pause) Okay, I’ll do it.
GREER: You gonna do it?
SKANK: Forty bucks, I’ll jerk you off.
GREER: Twenty bucks.
SKANK: Thirty-five bucks, I’ll jerk you, you can touch my ass.
GREER: Twenty bucks.
SKANK: Fuck, man. Thirty bucks, okay? Thirty. That’s it. Thirty.
GREER: Twenty bucks.
SKANK: This is bullshit, man. You know who I am? You know where I been? I was in the army, man. I was in Hamlet! Fuckin’ Hamlet! I did a commercial, man. I saved a kid once. I took a kid outta a burnin’ crack house, risked my life! If I had money and someone needed it, I’d give it to him! I give money to people all the time! I let Chickie sell my last bag last week, my last bag. Do you know what that is to give someone your last fuckin’ bag? How many of these scumbags out here would do that, huh? You know why I did it, man? ’Cuz I got the human compassion, man! I got the love in me, I got love! Lov
e! What you got, man? What the hell you got?
GREER: I got twenty bucks. Whatchu gonna do?
(Pause)
SKANK: Let’s go, man. Let’s do it.
GREER: What’re we gonna do?
SKANK: What you want.
GREER: Look me in my eyes … You know what I want to do?
SKANK: Just do it, okay? I doan wanna hear it, I just wanna do it. Give the bartender five bucks, he’ll keep the bathroom clear.
GREER: Fine.
SKANK: You get fifteen minutes, man.
GREER: Doan worry, baby. What I wanna do ain’t gonna take but five.
ACT 2
Scene 1: Eighth Avenue. Tuesday, 2 a.m.
CHICKIE: You gotta smile.
DEMARIS: For what?
CHICKIE: Watch. Do like I do, okay? (To a MAN) “Hey, baby!” (To DEMARIS) You gotta be like that. Like you’re a party waitin’ to happen. (To another MAN) “Hey, baby!” (To DEMARIS) Think about money.
DEMARIS: I’m a bank some “Benji’s” tonight!
CHICKIE: Yeah, that’s better. You doin’ better.
DEMARIS: Yeah?
CHICKIE: But smile, like you know a secret.
DEMARIS: Yeah. Yeah. I’m wid dat!
CHICKIE: That’s good! (To MAN #1) “Hey, Baby.”
MAN #1: (To DEMARIS) I like that ass.
DEMARIS: Fuck you, bitch!
(MAN #1 hurries off.)
DEMARIS: You bettah run, little punk-ass bitch!! (To CHICKIE) Oh, shit! You see dat nigga run?
CHICKIE: Demaris!
DEMARIS: I’m sorry.
CHICKIE: They’re not supposed to be running away from us, Demaris.
DEMARIS: How you gonna let a man disrespect us like that?!
CHICKIE: You know what? I think this is a bad idea.
DEMARIS: I said I was sorry, Chickie.
CHICKIE: No. It’s good that you’re like that. It’s just not good if you wanna make money.
DEMARIS: I wanna make money. I wanna make money for me and my baby.
CHICKIE: You mean your boyfriend!
DEMARIS: My boyfriend? Fuck that nigga! I’m talkin’ bout my baby, my blood.
CHICKIE: You mean like a kid?
DEMARIS: You nevah seen my baby? Look, thass my baby, thass Evan. Thass a nice name, right?
CHICKIE: Oh! He’s … he’s cute.
DEMARIS: Right?
MAN #2: Hey there, ladies—
DEMARIS: Get the fuck out my face, you wanna get shot?
(MAN #2 hurries off.)
CHICKIE: Demaris!
DEMARIS: He was tryin’ to get all up in my face.
CHICKIE: Yeah? So?
DEMARIS: Dat don’t sit wit me.
CHICKIE: I’m sorry Demaris, but I don’t get from you that you have what it takes to trick.
DEMARIS: So teach me.
CHICKIE: I did teach you.
DEMARIS: So teach me again.
CHICKIE: Demaris, it’s not the worst thing in the world to be not good at this. It’s prolly a good thing.
DEMARIS: No it ain’t.
CHICKIE: There’s a lot a others things you could prolly do. Like rob!
DEMARIS: Nah, ’cuz they say if I get locked up again, they gonna take Evan from me.
CHICKIE: But you could get locked up doin’ this.
DEMARIS: But I heard the cops is friendly.
CHICKIE: Sometimes.
DEMARIS: I need ta make some bank, Chickie. I need ta make a place that ain’t my mothah’s place. I need ta be a mothah to my kid. I need bank.
CHICKIE: Demaris—
DEMARIS: I’ll do whatevah you say, and I won’t curse out no more peoples. I ain’t tryin to come to you wrong, I’m juss axin’ you as a friend.
CHICKIE: As a friend?
DEMARIS: What are you sayin’, that you ain’t my friend?
CHICKIE: Demaris, you pulled a gun on me, that’s the only reason I’m doin’ this.
DEMARIS: So then, what? You don’t like me?
CHICKIE: You pulled a gun on me!
DEMARIS: I was juss playin’, Chickie, I wouldn’t have shotted you or nuthin’.
CHICKIE: That’s not what you said before.
DEMARIS: Okay, so I apologize, okay?
CHICKIE: Demaris—
DEMARIS: Here. Take my gun … nah, for real, take it. I got my initials on there, see?
CHICKIE: Yeah.
DEMARIS: Thass cool, right? You could keep it, like, as a gift. You to me … You like my coat?
CHICKIE: Yeah.
DEMARIS: Try it on.
CHICKIE: Demaris—
DEMARIS: Juss try it on. It’s nice, right?