Etiquette and Vitriol (9 page)

SERGE:
Serge, please.

AMANDA:
How long,
Serge
?

SERGE:
We met two weeks ago.

AMANDA:
I see. And at what sordid, little social club was this?

SERGE:
Bloomingdale's.

AMANDA:
Typical.

SERGE:
I'm a model. Maybe you recognize me?

AMANDA:
I'm afraid not.

SERGE:
Well, I don't do much print work.

AMANDA:
That is too bad.

SERGE:
I was at Bloomingdale's for the fall promotions of the new Calvin Klein underwear. Ford was shopping. He remarked on the cut of my briefs and one thing led to another. We went back to my place, and I found that I could open up to him. I could really talk to him in a way I can't talk to a lot of people. You know most people look at me and they just see someone who's unusually attractive. Then they find out that I'm a model, and they assume that I'm an idiot! You know, I think that's a form of prejudice! Wouldn't you say so?

AMANDA:
I don't know. I don't know
and
I don't care.

SERGE:
Well, we went back to my place. We were talking and listening to some old Donna Summer tapes. And then, we didn't even discuss it—before we knew what was happening we were fucking and sucking and going like rabid dogs in the summer sun, right there in the window!

AMANDA:
Oh my God.

SERGE:
I know. It's pretty undignified, huh?

AMANDA:
Oh my God.

SERGE:
But when you connect, you connect.

AMANDA:
I feel sick.

SERGE:
Oh, we were safe. Not to worry. I consider myself extremely responsible.

AMANDA
(Weakly)
: Good.

SERGE:
And that was it. We spent the next fourteen days together.

AMANDA:
Did you?

SERGE:
In bed, on the floor, in the tub, on the roof—

AMANDA:
The roof?

SERGE:
We only stopped for salt tablets! I was seeing someone else, this guy, Roger—and he had heart surgery last week, but I'll be honest with you. Ford made me forget all about Roger. I mean, I forgot to send flowers or call the hospital or anything. I wonder if he lived. Can I use your phone?

AMANDA:
No.

SERGE:
Oh well. It doesn't matter. I never really cared for Roger. He was wild about me but he talked nonstop! I couldn't get a word in edgewise. With Ford, it was different. We have something very, very unique—

AMANDA:
You can't qualify unique. It either is, or it isn't.

SERGE:
What?

AMANDA:
Skip it.

SERGE:
That's why I don't understand! This might come as a surprise, but Ford was planning on moving in with me. He left my place last night at about twelve and said he'd be back in a couple of hours with his stuff.

AMANDA:
He was going to—

SERGE:
Then he calls at two in the morning, and no explanation!
No excuse! No nothing! Just “I'm not coming.” Well I'm not used to this! I'm not used to being treated like a piece of gum stuck under a chair! I want to see him. Now!

(Amanda blocks the hallway.)

AMANDA:
Too bad.

SERGE:
I'll wait.

AMANDA:
Just go!

SERGE:
Tell me, did he say anything? Did he talk about me? Did you discuss it? Was it me? Was I suffocating? Is that it? I thought he liked being suffocated! He liked the paddle! He liked the whip! He liked the cat-o'-nine-tails! He even liked the candle wax!

AMANDA:
STOP IT! STOP IT! STOP IT!

SERGE:
He told me we had something special! He told me that he loved me!!

AMANDA
(Bitter)
: When was that?

SERGE:
Over and over!

AMANDA:
Oh?

SERGE:
If not in so many words—

AMANDA:
Well, Mr.—Serge, he told me he loved me over and over, last night,
IN
so many words!

SERGE
(Mock casual)
: Really?

AMANDA:
YES! Because Ford and I are MARRIED and we DO love each other! So whatever sick, twisted hold you've had on my husband is broken! He clearly regrets having met you and has decided to stay HERE, with ME, his WIFE!

SERGE:
You think so?

AMANDA:
Did he return to you last night? No. He was in bed with me last night! And that's exactly where he intends to stay!

SERGE:
I'd like him to tell me that.

AMANDA:
It's over! Why don't you simply leave? Go. Go and get yourself a tan. If you leave now, there'll be no ugly scenes of recrimination.

SERGE
(Feigning shock)
: Maybe I—do you have a glass of water?

AMANDA:
No.

SERGE:
Please. I'm not used to this. I'm strikingly attractive and this comes as quite a blow.

AMANDA:
Drink it. Then leave.

(Exasperated, Amanda fetches Serge a drink. He takes the moment to head toward the bedroom. Just as he gets there, Otto appears at the door, which had been left ajar, carrying a bag of groceries and pointing a gun at his temple.)

OTTO:
THE WORLD IS A RANCID CESSPOOL AND I CAN TAKE IT NO LONGER!!

SERGE
(Turning)
: Otto!?

OTTO:
LET MY DEATH BE ON YOUR HEAD, SERGE STUBIN! LET YOUR DREAMS BE FILLED WITH VISIONS OF MY BLOODY SKULL!

SERGE:
What are you doing here!?

OTTO
(Entering)
: I followed you.

(Amanda enters and hands Serge a glass of water.)

SERGE:
Oh dear God.

OTTO:
When you threw me out last night, I slept in the garbage can outside your building. I ate orange rinds and an old shoe for breakfast—all right, all right I went home and had bacon and a dozen eggs—but I was up at seven a.m. and perched outside your house! I followed you! I'd've been here sooner, but that pig at the gun store refused to cash my check! A clear case of anti-Semitism! I haven't been to sleep, but then I never sleep. I haven't slept in years!

(He falls to his knees)
Do you think you could love me again if I got a good night's sleep? Do you?—Don't answer! I know what you're going to say. You're going to say “No.” That's all you ever say: No, no, no, no, no. You are positively monosyllabic! You should buy a word-a-day calendar
to build your vocabulary—I tossed and turned all night long and I have decided that life is simply not worth living WHILE YOU LOVE SOMEONE ELSE!—It's unbelievably hot in here! Is anyone else hot? It's like a sauna. I'm waiting for the boy to come around with the cold-water hose for my wrists and temples, for God's sake!

AMANDA:
Do you know this person?

SERGE:
No. No, I don't. We've never met. Call the police.

OTTO:
I am Otto Woodnick!

AMANDA:
You're not!?

SERGE:
He is.

OTTO:
I am!

AMANDA:
Otto! It's me! Betty Pemberton! I was in your homeroom class in New Rochelle High!

OTTO:
Betty?!

AMANDA:
Amanda now. Amanda Dolor!

OTTO:
You were so fat!

AMANDA:
You were so thin!

OTTO
and
AMANDA:
What happened to you!!?

(Otto and Amanda embrace. Serge watches this. As they are embraced, Ford staggers groggily into the room. He sees the scene, has no apparent reaction, turns and exits, unnoticed.)

OTTO:
You look fantastic!

AMANDA:
I've lost some weight. That's all.

OTTO:
I heard about your mother.

AMANDA:
Oh yes.

OTTO:
I'm so sorry.

AMANDA:
Oh don't be, please. My mother was a horrible person really. For years now I've tried to convince myself that her death was somehow tragic to me, that she was a fine person. But she wasn't and it wasn't. She made me feel completely inadequate. She was very beautiful, you know. And tall and thin. She looked like Audrey Hepburn. I hated her. Her death was my liberation.

SERGE:
You hated Audrey Hepburn?!

AMANDA:
God no. I hated my mother. After she died I flourished for the first time. I lost all my weight and took control of my future.

SERGE:
The two of you should start a club! He drones on all the time about his mother.

OTTO:
She's a nightmare!

SERGE:
What's wrong with you people?

AMANDA:
Do you like your mother?

SERGE:
Of course!

OTTO
and
AMANDA:
Why?

SERGE:
She's my mother. I love her. She's charming and witty and she believes in me. She instilled in me the confidence that lets me do anything I put my mind to.

OTTO
and
AMANDA:
Oh.

SERGE:
My father, on the other hand, is a turd.

OTTO:
Listen to that! He's so pithy. It would take me paragraphs to say what he says with a word! That's the man I love! I hope you don't mind if I have a nibble while we catch up, Betty. I'm starving! I haven't eaten in minutes!

(He pulls a bag of bagels from his bag and eats as he talks)
Help yourself to a bagel if you want, BUT DON'T TOUCH THE CINNAMON-RAISIN, they're my favorite—I will never forget the first time I saw him! Talk about your some-enchanted-evenings! Do you remember how popular I was in school? I was the best-liked Jewish person in our class. I had more friends than I knew what to do with. Well, I had friends. NO ONE LIKED ME! No one's ever liked me! Do I smell funny? You'd tell me if I smelled funny, wouldn't you, Betty? No, no, don't answer that. I bathe and if I smell funny there's nothing more I can do about it, so I'd just as soon not know it.—Where was I? Oh yes, we met at Barneys—

AMANDA:
Department stores are meat markets!

OTTO:
It's so true. Housewares are the worst! Anyway, he took me away with him, for a weekend in Bimini—

SERGE:
I never did any such thing!

OTTO:
Ooooo, he's got a terrible temper!

SERGE:
I've never even been to Bimini!

OTTO:
I think he's capable of anything.

AMANDA:
I'VE
been to Bimini.

OTTO:
I keep warning him, I keep telling him with that temper and a diet void of sugar, he'll put himself in a grave before he hits twenty!

SERGE:
I'M THIRTY NOW!!

OTTO:
I rest my case.

SERGE:
Get out of my life!

OTTO:
Could you love me again if I got out of your life? Could you?

SERGE:
If you got out of my life? Forever? Yes. Yes, I could.

OTTO:
But then I wouldn't—I'm confused now.

SERGE:
God!

(Amanda takes a bagel from Otto's bag and eats ravenously—it's a cinnamon-raisin.)

OTTO:
We were going to redecorate his house. We went to Conran's and picked out all new furniture—you look amazing by the way. I can't get over it. You'll have to share your diet tips later.—We went to ABC Carpets and found the most precious Persian rugs! We picked china and flatware. I told my mother, who's in traction, by the by, now that you ask. My analyst says I have a neurotic fixation on my mother. But I ask you, at what point does a fixation become neurotic? You be the judge. DO I SEE RAISINS?!

(Amanda drops the bagel, panicked.)