by David Mamet
Columbus Avenue
Columbus Avenue was first published in the Village Voice on September 10, 1980.
I felt the cold steel of a gun against my head three times.
Twenty-six years we have been here. A tailor fourteen years before that here. Fifty-one years.
And he's an Orthodox Jew, and his father said (when he was managing: when first we settled on a price; and, you know, we negotiated . . . but when we were done he told me): “I will never throw you out.”
The boy, he said, “Before I do a thing we'll talk.” Today I get his letter in the mail. And I go there. I say, “You said that we were going to talk.” He said, “I thought instead of talking I'd send you a letter.”
So what am I going to do? Where am I going to go?
My customers are going to follow me? Can I ask them to walk for twenty blocks?
If even he gave me a ten-year lease, at least then I could sell the business.
So I said double the rent. Triple the rent, I told him.
He has got a guy is going to pay two thousand a month, he says. And he's going to put in fifty-thousand dollars restoration.
I told him, “How is he going to make the rent?"
He said, “He'll break his back. He'll break his back the first year,” (he didn't say “back") “and, after that, he fails, I've got his fifty thousand he put in my building, and I rent the place again.”
It's like that the whole street: Things you don't want at what you can't afford, and nothing that you need.
No services.
Where am I going to go?
If I was twenty, if I was even ten years younger . . .
Where am I going to go? I got to move the press, I got to move the racks; by the time I put in I put in all my savings to the business to go somewhere else and I have nothing. And I have to start again. Twenty-six years.
I told him, “I hate to remind you what your father said.”
He shrugged.
My wife went. I was getting sick. He said he'd give us an extension for six months.
It's the same all the neighborhood.
Let the depression come, and see who pays the rent.
Twenty-six years I've been here, and there are no more services on this street anymore.
What will people do I don't know what he thinks.
I don't know.
I don't know what I can say.
Steve McQueen
A monologue. The speaker is a man in his mid-to-late thirties.
. . . well, I'm from Hawaii—I met him when he was at the Kalona Mar, he was there two months.
He wasn't well. You know. We'd talk . . . we got to talking motorcycles. He asked if he could borrow my bike, I said of course. He got to taking it out every day. He was registered there as “McGuire.” He was keeping a low profile, you know? But after a week or two, you know, I think that he was lonely. I'd see him around the pool. He must have seen me one morning coming to work on my bike, because he asked me about it: How was it riding, something; and we started talking about bikes. He had at that time over one hundred bikes in his collection . . . I don't know where they were . . . in the States.
You know, The Great Escape . . . ? He did those stunts himself. You know where he jumps the barb wire? He did that himself—though it wasn't barb wire.
He found out that I was into martial arts and we took to sparring. He was in great shape—even though his disease—he was strong as a horse at that time. A fifty-sixty-minute workout was nothing to him. I'll tell you something else is he would drink a case of beer a day. Twenty-four beers a day. Lowenbrau. I know because I used to bring them to him. And smoke like a chimney. I guess he was just one of those men who are blessed with a completely perfect constitution. Though he was in great pain. I know that he was.
Indians . . . Harleys . . . Nortons . . . he had all of them. Did you know on the old Indian the oil used to go through the frame? It flowed through the frame.
You know the stunt on The Great Escape where they get the bike? The German motorcycle rider's coming down the road, they stretch a wire . . . ? They had the greatest motorcycle rider in the world . . . Rusty, something . . . Rusty . . . they told him “Just drive down the road.” They told him, “Be ready for anything.” That's why it's so authentic. He runs into that wire . . . ? He didn't know it was there. They did it in one take. (Pause.)
I met his son. (Pause.) At that time he was training as a flight instructor. I stayed at his house in Malibu. Three days.
Yes
Two men: A and B.
A: People don't know when they're well-off.
B: Now that's for sure.
A: That's for goddamned . . . what did you say? It is for sure. It's for god-damned sure. I swear to Christ. I swear on the grave of my mother, may she roast in peace . . .
B: What did you say? “May she roast in peace"?
A: Did I say what?
B: You said your mother.
A: Yes?
B: May she . . . (Pause.)
A: May she what? (Pause.)
B: She's dead, right?
A: Is she dead?
B: Is she?
A: Is that what you're asking me? (Pause.) Is my mother dead?
B: Am I asking you that?
A: Are you?
B: Well, is she dead? I assume that . . . she's dead, right?
A: (Pause.) Yes. (Pause.) Yes. She is.
B: (Pause.) I, um . . .
A: You're “sorry"?
B: I am sor . . . of, yes, of, ab . . . did she . . . of course I'm . . . did she . . .
A: Did she die recently?
B: Yes.
A: Recently? Peaceably . . . ? I don't mean “peaceably,” I mean peacefully . . . peacefully. Yes. Recently. Yes . . . . I suppose they're the same thing. No . . . of course . . . of course they're not. They're not the . . . yes. She's dead. She's absolutely dead. How's your mom? Fine, I hope.
B: She's dead.
A: How about that?
B: I'm not glad that she's dead.
A: Well, that makes you a loyal son, doesn't it?
B: I liked her.
A: I'm very sure you did. That's “fine.” That's truly “fine” of you. What was I saying? (Pause.) What was I speaking of, if I may?
B: You mentioned your mother.
A: Yes. I did. I said . . . what did I say? People are not well-off.
B: You said:
A: I spoke about my mother. Thank you.
B: . . . something . . .
A: . . . that's correct . . .
B: “My mother . . . “
A: “may she rest in hell” ra . . . ra . . . rrrra . . . raaa . . . rrrr . . . “may she . . . “ “may she rot in hell” “may she . . . “ (Pause.) What's the phrase? MAY SHE REST IN PEACE! What's the phrase?
B: May she rest in peace.
A: What's the phrase? (Pause.) What's the phrase for that? (Pause.)
B: That's it.
A: That's it?
B: Yes. (Pause.)
A: There's another one.
B: There is?
A: What is it?
B: I don't know.
A: . . . the phrase for it . . . you know what I . . . (Pause.) I must be a deeply troubled man. (Pause.) So many things accept me.
B: What are they?
A: I mean “accept" me.
B: What did you say? (Pause.)
A: I said . . . (Pause.)
B: You said that you must be . . .
A: . . . I said that things accept me.
B: What did you . . . ?
A: I . . .
B: . . . you said . . . (Pause.)
A: . . . I . . . (Pause.) . . . I . . . (Pause.) . . . I . . .
THE BLUE HOUR: CITY SKETCHES
Prologue: American Twilight
Doctor
The Hat
Businessmen
Cold
Epilogue
The following pieces were written variously as curtain raisers for other plays
of mine, as cabaret pieces, and as experiments. They were written to be performed on a bare stage, using only a chair or two, and without props or special costuming.
The Blue Hour was first performed as a workshop at the Public Theater in New York, in February, 1979 with the following cast directed by David Mamet: Ben Halley, Jr., David Sabin, Arthur French, Patti LuPone, and Lindsay Crouse.
Characters
Prologue: American Twilight: Man
Doctor: Doctor, Woman
The Hat: Customer, Saleswoman
Businessmen: Grey, Black
Cold: A, B
Epilogue: Man
PROLOGUE: AMERICAN TWILIGHT
Man: In great American cities at l'heure bleu airborne dust particles cause buildings to appear lightly outlined in black. The people hurry home. They take a taxi or they walk or crush into the elevated trains or subways; or they go into the library where it is open and sit down and read a magazine and wait a bit so that the crush of travelers will dissipate.
This is the Blue Hour.
The sky is blue and people feel blue.
When they look up they will see a light or “powder” blue is in the Western sky where, meanwhile, in the East the sky is midnight blue; and this shade creeps up to the zenith and beyond, and changes powder blue to midnight and, eventually, to black, whereat the buildings lose their outlines and become as stageflats in the glow of incandescent lamps. This is the Blue Hour-the American twilight as it falls today in the cities.
DOCTOR
Doctor: Now, what seems to be your problem?
Woman: I won't pay this. (Waves bill.)
Doctor: Won't pay what, I'm sorry.
Woman: I won't pay this.
Doctor: Well, let's see what it is. (Takes bill.) Now, what's the problem here?
Woman: The problem is that it's outrageous. I had an appointment with you for four-thirty and you took me after six . . .
Doctor: Well, surely, you must realize . . .
Woman: No, no, I realize nothing of the sort. What makes you think that your time is more valuable, that my time is less valuable than yours? If you made an appointment you should keep to it.
Doctor (Pause): Mrs. Rudin, look.
Woman: No, you look. I'm alright. I'm fine, but people out there, there are worried people out there. Sitting, who knows how long, and you keep them there, they're waiting on your pleasure.
(Pause.)
Doctor: It isn't for my pleasure . . .
Woman: Then what is it for then?
Doctor: Mrs . . . .
Woman: Eh . . . ? Now what are two hours of my time worth? To you, obviously nothing.
Doctor: There are economic exigencies.
Woman: Are there?
Doctor: Yes, there are.
Woman: And what are they? (Pause.) What are they? That you think entitles you to treat people like cattle and then charge them like that?
Doctor: Mrs. Rudin, I am on call at three hospitals in New York, I maintain a complete . . .
Woman: That's your privilege. I didn't force you to do that. Those are your necessities. Your fiscal . . . I don't know. Why should I have to pay for that? (Pause.)
Doctor: Mrs. Rudin, what is your, now what is your complaint here?
Woman: I will not pay this bill. (Pause.)
Doctor: You won't.
Woman: I come here with a broken toe, I sit over three hours, and you take an x-ray and tell me my toe is broken. And you charge me for the x-ray and seventy-five dollars. (Pause.) I'm not going to pay it. (Pause.)
Doctor: These are my charges, for an office visit. For the first visit.
Woman: Well, you can find someone who will pay them, then, because I am not going to. (Pause.)
Doctor: There is a, there's a contract here.
Woman: There is, and what is that?
Doctor: You have taken my services; look, I don't like to talk about this.
Woman: I can see why you don't. Look me in the eye, there is a contract here? I have defrauded you of services? You charge me forty dollars for an x-ray and seventy-five dollars to tell me that my toe is broken, and keep me waiting for three hours. You're goddamned right that you don't like to talk about it, ‘cause you know that you are wrong. You know you're wrong.
Doctor: Well, you'll just have to take that question up with my accountants.
Woman: Fine. With your collection agency. Fine. I'll talk to them. I'll see you in small claims court. I don't care. This is not right. You call yourself a doctor. What you are is a thief. You live with yourself. No, I'm sorry. Prices what they are, you go out and work for a living. You go out there and support your family through what you do, and then tell me I should pay that to you. You do that. It's nothing to you. Nothing, to make people small. To deal with people who are frightened, who are hurt, I don't know, maybe who might think they're dying, and to keep them there because they're frightened, and then rob them. Go to hell, you can just go to hell. I damn you. Do you hear me? With your medical car license plates, and tell me there are exigencies? You can go to hell. I'll die before I'll pay that bill. I swear before God. Do you hear me?
Doctor: There's a distinct possibility . . .
Woman: You kiss my ass!
THE HAT
Customer: What do you think?
Saleswoman: You look wonderful. (Pause.)
Customer: Do you think so?
Saleswoman: I do.
Customer: With the veil?
Saleswoman: I don't know. Let's see. Let's try it on.
Customer: With this coat, though.
Saleswoman: Yes. Absolutely. (Pause.)
Customer: I'm going out tomorrow on this interview?
Saleswoman: Uh-huh.
Customer: No. I don't like the veil. This hat, though, with this coat. (Saleswoman nods.) Yes.
Saleswoman: I think that's the nicest coat this season.
Customer: Do you think so?
Saleswoman: Far and away. Far and away.
Customer: Alright. I need the hat. This hat, this coat. (Pause.) This bag? (Pause.)
Saleswoman: For an interview?
Customer: Yes.
Saleswoman: I'm going to say “no.”
Customer: No. I knew you would say that. No. You're right. Alright. The hat, the coat . . . oh, this is going to cost me, I know . . . not these boots, though?
Saleswoman: No.
Customer: Too casual.
Saleswoman: Yes.
Customer: Alright. Boots. Something dark. Black.
Saleswoman: . . . You have those ankle boots . . . ?
Customer: No, no, I want real boots. Dark. Long.
Saleswoman: Severe.
Customer: Very severe . . . alright. I need the boots. (Pause.) Pants?
Saleswoman: Or a skirt.
Customer: I thought pants. Something in dark green. You know? (Pause.)
Saleswoman: Well, you would have to be careful.
Customer: I know, I know. No, I know I would. And I thought a shawl-neck sweater. Something soft.
Saleswoman: Uh-huh.
Customer: In white. (Pause.) In off-white. In eggshell.
Saleswoman: Good. Sure.
Customer: This is going to cost me. But I want . . . do you know?
Saleswoman: Yes.
Customer: I want. When I walk in there . . .
Saleswoman: Yes
Customer: I want. (Pause.) What do you think? Pants?
Saleswoman: Well, if you feel comfortable . . .
Customer: I would, I would. You know why? ‘Cause it says something.
Saleswoman: Uh-huh.
Customer: And it holds me in. It makes me stand up. I saw the ones that I want.
Saleswoman: Here?
Customer: Upstairs. Yes. A hundred-twenty dollars. (Pause.) What do you think on top?
Saleswoman: You've got the sweater . . .
Customer: Underneath.
Saleswoman: . . . Well . . .
Customer: Oh. Oh! You know what? I sa
w it last month. You know, you know, underthings, an undergarment. (Pause.) One piece, you know, like a camisole.
Saleswoman: A teddy.
Customer: Yes. Yes. Just a little lace.
Saleswoman: That would be nice.
Customer: Silk. (Pause.) A teddy. Just a little off. A little flush, what do they call it, beige . . .
Saleswoman: Uh-huh.
Customer: Not really beige. A little blusher. (Smiles.) I put a little blusher underneath. (Pause.) Just beneath the lace. Mmm? (Saleswoman nods.)
Customer: Alright. The slacks, the teddy, not the bag, the boots, the sweater. (Pause.) This is going to cost five hundred dollars.
Saleswoman: No.
Customer: Yes. With a new bag. Yes. (Pause.) But it's worth it, right? If I know when I walk in there?
Saleswoman: Yes.
Customer: Look! Look! Oh, look, look what she's got. The clutch bag. Yes. That bag. Yes. Do you think? With this coat.
Saleswoman: Yes.
Customer: ‘Cause, ‘cause, you know why? You've got it. Under here. (Clutches imaginary bag under her arm.) You know? So when you walk in there . . . you know? Just . . . just a small . . . just . . . just the perfect . . . you know? (Pause.) I have to have that bag. (Pause. Shrugs.) Yes, that bag. The slacks, the teddy, sweater . . . I couldn't get by with these boots, huh?
Saleswoman: No.
Customer: I know. They're great, though.
Saleswoman: Yes. They are.
Customer (Sighs): That bag's got to be two hundred dollars. (Pause.) How much is the hat?
Saleswoman: With or without the veil? (Pause.)
Customer: Without.
Saleswoman: Fifty-eight dollars.
Customer: And you're sure that you like it.
Saleswoman: You look lovely in it.
Customer: With this coat.
Saleswoman: With that coat. Absolutely.
Customer (Pause): I think so. (Pause.) I'll take it. Thank you. Thank you. You've been very . . .
Saleswoman: Not at all.
Customer: No, no. You have. You have been very gracious.
