by David Mamet
Sexual Perversity in Chicago
AND
The Duck Variations
WORKS BY DAVID MAMET PUBLISHED BY GROVE PRESS
American Buffalo
The Cherry Orchard (adapted from Anton Chekhov)
Five Television Plays
Glengarry Glen Ross
Goldberg Street: Short Plays and Monologues
Homicide
House of Games: A Screenplay
A Life in the Theatre
Reunion and Dark Pony
Sexual Perversity in Chicago and The Duck Variations
The Shawl and Prairie du Chien
Speed-the-Plow
Things Change: A Screenplay (with Shel Silverstein)
Three Children’s Plays
Warm and Cold (with Donald Sultan)
We’re No Angels
The Woods, Lakeboat, Edmond
Sexual Perversity in Chicago
AND
The Duck Variations
TWO PLAYS BY
David Mamet
Grove Press
New York
Sexual Perversity in Chicago copyright © 1974 by David Mamet
The Duck Variations copyright © 1974 by David Mamet
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CAUTION: Professionals and amateurs are hereby warned that Sexual Perversity in Chicago and Duck Variations are subject to a royalty. Each are fully protected under the copyright laws of the United States, Canada, United Kingdom, and all British Commonwealth countries, and all countries covered by the International Copyright Union, the Pan-American Copyright Convention, and the Universal Copyright Convention. All rights, including professional, amateur, motion picture, recitation, public reading, radio broadcasting, television, video or sound taping, all other forms of mechanical or electronic reproduction, such as information storage and retrieval systems and photocopying, and rights of translation into foreign languages, are strictly reserved.
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Mamet, David.
Sexual perversity in Chicago and The duck variations.
I. Mamet, David. The duck variations 1978. II. Title: Sexual perversity in Chicago.
PS3563.A4345S4 1978 812’.5’4 77-91885
eISBN: 978-0-8021-5011-0
Cover design by John Gall
Cover photograph by Brigitte Lacombe
Grove Press an imprint of Grove Atlantic, 154 West 14th Street, 12th floor, New York, NY 10011
Distributed by Publishers Group West
www.groveatlantic.com
Sexual
Perversity
in
Chicago
This play is dedicated to Jonathan Katz, with thanks for his comradeship, understanding, and most of the good lines.
Sexual Perversity in Chicago was first produced by The Organic Theater Company, Chicago, Illinois, in the summer of 1974, with the following cast:
BERNARD Warren Casey
DAN Eric Loeb
DEBORAH Carolyn Gordon
JOAN Roberta Custer
This production was directed by Stuart Gordon; set by John Paoletti and Mary Griswold; lighting by Jeffrey Buschor.
It was produced off-off Broadway at St. Clements Theatre, New York City, in December of 1975, with the following cast:
BERNARD Robert Townsend
DAN Robert Picardo
DEBORAH Jane Anderson
JOAN Gina Rogers
This production was directed by Albert Takazauckas; set by Michael Massee; lighting by Gary Porto.
It opened off-Broadway at the Cherry Lane Theatre, New York City, in June of 1976, produced by Larry Goossen and Jeffrey Wachtel, with the following cast;
BERNARD F. Murray Abraham
DAN Peter Riegert
DEBORAH Jane Anderson
JOAN Gina Rogers
This production was directed by Albert Takazauckas; set by Michael Massee; lighting by Gary Porto.
The Characters:
DAN SHAPIRO An urban male in his late twenties.
BERNARD LITKO A friend and associate of Dan Shapiro.
DEBORAH SOLOMAN A woman in her late twenties.
JOAN WEBBER Friend and roommate of Deborah Soloman.
The Scene:
Various spots around the North Side of Chicago, a Big City on a Lake.
The Time:
Approximately nine weeks one summer.
A singles bar. DAN SHAPIRO and BERNARD LITKO are seated at the bar.
DANNY: So how'd you do last night?
BERNIE: Are you kidding me?
DANNY: Yeah?
BERNIE: Are you fucking kidding me?
DANNY: Yeah?
BERNIE: Are you pulling my leg?
DANNY: So?
BERNIE: So tits out to here so.
DANNY: Yeah?
BERNIE: Twenty, a couple years old.
DANNY: You gotta be fooling.
BERNIE: Nope.
DANNY: You devil.
BERNIE: You think she hadn't been around?
DANNY: Yeah?
BERNIE: She hadn't gone the route?
DANNY: She knew the route, huh?
BERNIE: Are you fucking kidding me?
DANNY : Yeah?
BERNIE: So wrote the route.
DANNY: No shit, around twenty, huh?
BERNIE: Nineteen, twenty.
DANNY: You're talking about a girl.
BERNIE: Damn right.
DANNY: You're telling me about some underage stuff.
BERNIE: She don't gotta be but eighteen.
DANNY: Was she?
BERNIE: Shit yes.
DANNY: Then okay.
BERNIE: She made eighteen easy.
DANNY: Well, then.
BERNIE: Had to punch in at twenty, twenty-five easy.
DANNY: Then you got no problem.
BERNIE: I know I got no problem.
DANNY: So tell me.
BERNIE: So okay, so where am I?
DANNY : When?
BERNIE: Last night, two-thirty.
DANNY: So two-thirty, you're probably over at Yak-Zies.
BERNIE: Left Yak-Zies at one.
DANNY: So you're probably over at Grunts.
BERNIE: They only got a two o'clock license.
DANNY: So you're probably over at the Commonwealth.
BERNIE: So okay, so I'm over at the Commonwealth, in the pancake house off the lobby, and I'm working on a stack of those raisin and nut jobs . . .
DANNY: They're good.
BERNIE: . . . and I'm reading the paper, and I'm reading, and I'm casing the pancake house, and the
usual shot, am I right?
DANNY: Right.
BERNIE: So who walks in over to the cash register but this chick.
DANNY: Right.
BERNIE: Nineteen-, twenty-year-old chick . . .
DANNY: Who we're talking about.
BERNIE: . . . and she wants a pack of Viceroys.
DANNY: I can believe that.
BERNIE: Gets the smokes, and she does this number about how she forgot her purse up in her room.
DANNY: Up in her room?
BERNIE: Yeah.
DANNY: Was she a pro?
BERNIE: At that age?
DANNY: Yeah.
BERNIE: Well, at this point we don't know. So anyway, I go over and ask her can I front her for the smokes, and she says she couldn't, and then she says Well, all right, and would I like to join her in a cup of coffee.
DANNY: She asked you . . .
BERNIE: . . . yeah.
DANNY: For a cup of coffee?
BERNIE: Right?
DANNY: And all this time she was nineteen?
BERNIE: Nineteen, twenty. So down we sit and get to talking. This, that, blah, blah, blah, and “Come up to my room and I'll pay you back for the cigarettes.”
DANNY: No.
BERNIE: Yeah.
DANNY: You're shitting me.
BERNIE: I'm telling you.
DANNY: And was she a pro?
BERNIE: So at this point, we don't know. Pro, semi-pro, Betty Coed from College, regular young broad, it's anybody's ballgame. So, anyway, up we go. Fifth floor on the alley and it's “Sit down, you wanna drink?” “What you got?”, “Bourbon,” “Fine.” And goddam if she doesn't lay half a rock on me for the cigarettes.
DANNY: No.
BERNIE: Yeah.
DANNY: So this changes the complexity of things.
BERNIE: For a bit, yes. But then what shot does she up and pull?
DANNY: You remind her of her ex.
BERNIE: No.
DANNY: She's never done anything like this before in her life?
BERNIE: No.
DANNY: She just got into town, and do you know where a girl like her could make a little money?
BERNIE: No.
DANNY: So I'm not going to lie to you, what shot does she pull?
BERNIE: The shot she is pulling is the following two things: (a) she says “I think I want to take a shower.”
DANNY: No.
BERNIE: Yes. And (b) she says “And then let's fuck.”
DANNY: Yeah?
BERNIE: What did I just tell you?
DANNY: She said that?
BERNIE: I hope to tell you.
DANNY: Nineteen years old?
BERNIE: Nineteen, twenty.
DANNY: And was she a pro?
BERNIE: So at this point I don't know. But I do say I'll join her in the shower, if she has no objections.
DANNY: Of course.
BERNIE: So into the old shower. And does this broad have a body?
DANNY: Yeah?
BERNIE: Are you kidding me?
DANNY: So tell me.
BERNIE: The tits . . .
DANNY: Yeah?
BERNIE: The legs . . .
DANNY: The ass?
BERNIE: Are you fucking fooling me? The ass on this broad . . .
DANNY: Young ass, huh?
BERNIE: Well yeah, young broad, young ass.
DANNY: Right.
BERNIE: And lathering her . . .
DANNY: Mmmm.
BERNIE: And drop the soap . . . This, that, and we get out. Toweling off, each of us in his or her full glory. So while we're toweling off, I flick the towel at her, very playfully, and by accident it catches her a good one on the ass, and thwack, a big red mark.
DANNY: No.
BERNIE: So I'm all sorry and so forth. But what does this broad do but let out a squeal of pleasure and relief that would fucking kill a horse.
DANNY: Huh?
BERNIE: So what the hell, I'm liberal.
DANNY: If that's her act, that's her act.
BERNIE: Goes without saying. So I look around, figuring to follow in my footsteps, and what is handy but this little G.E. clock radio. So I pick the mother up and heave it at her. Catches her across the shoulder blades, and we've got this long welt.
DANNY: Draw blood?
BERNIE: At this point, no. So what does she do? She says “wait a minute,” and she crawls under the bed. From under the bed she pulls this suitcase, and from out of the suitcase comes this World War II Flak Suit.
DANNY: They're hard to find.
BERNIE: Zip, zip, zip, and she gets into the Flak Suit and we get down on the bed.
DANNY: What are you doing?
BERNIE: Fucking.
DANNY: She's in the Flak Suit?
BERNIE: Right.
DANNY: How do you get in?
BERNIE: How do you think I get in? She leaves the zipper open.
DANNY: That's what I thought.
BERNIE: But the shot is, while we're fucking, she wants me, every thirty seconds or so, to go BOOM at the top of my lungs.
DANNY: At her?
BERNIE: No, just in general. So we're humping and bumping and greasing the old Flak Suit and every once in a while I go BOOM, and she starts in on me. “Turn me over,” she says, so I do. She's on her stomach. I'm on top. . . .
DANNY: They got a flap in the back of the Flak Suit?
BERNIE: Yes. So she's on her stomach, et cetera. In the middle of everything she slithers over to the side of the bed, picks up the house phone and says “Give me Room 511.”
DANNY: Right.
BERNIE: “Who are you calling?” I say. “A friend,” she says. So okay. They answer the phone. “Patrice,” she says, “It's me, I'm up here with a friend, and I could use a little help. Could you help me out?”
DANNY: Ah ha!
BERNIE: So wait. So I don't know what the shot is. So all of a sudden I hear coming out of the phone: “Rat Tat Tat Tat Tat. Ka POW! AK AK AK AK AK AK AK Ka Pow!" So fine. I'm pumping away, the chick on the other end is making airplane noises, every once in a while I go BOOM, and the broad on the bed starts going crazy. She's moaning and groaning and about to go the whole long route. Humping and bumping, and she's screaming “Red dog One to Red dog Squadron” . . . all of a sudden she screams “Wait.” She wriggles out, leans under the bed, and she pulls out this five-gallon jerrycan.
DANNY: Right.
BERNIE: Opens it up . . . it's full of gasoline. So she splashes the mother all over the walls, whips a fuckin’ Zippo out of the Flak suit, and WHOOSH, the whole room is in flames. So the whole fuckin’ joint is going up in smoke, the telephone is going “Rat Tat Tat,” the broad jumps back on the bed and yells “Now, give it to me now for the love of Christ.” (Pause.) So I look at the broad . . . and I figure . . . fuck this nonsense. I grab my clothes, I peel a sawbuck off my wad, as I make the door I fling it at her. “For cab fare,” I yell. She doesn't hear nothing. One, two, six, I'm in the hall. Struggling into my shorts and hustling for the elevator. Whole fucking hall is full of smoke, above the flames I just make out my broad, she's singing “Off we go into the Wild Blue Yonder,” and the elevator arrives, and the whole fucking hall is full of firemen. (Pause.) Those fucking firemen make out like bandits. (Pause.)
DANNY: Nobody does it normally anymore.
BERNIE: It's these young broads. They don't know what the fuck they want.
DANNY: You think she was a pro?
BERNIE: A pro, Dan . . .
DANNY: Yes.
BERNIE: . . . is how you think about yourself. You see my point?
DANNY: Yeah.
BERNIE: Well, all right, then. I'll tell you one thing . . . she knew all the pro moves.
JOAN and DEB at the apartment that they share. JOAN is getting ready to go out.
JOAN: Men.
DEBORAH: Yup.
JOAN: They're all after only one thing.
DEBORAH: Yes. I know. (Pause.)
JOAN: But it's never
the same thing.
JOAN is at a singles bar seated alone. BERNARD spots her and moves to her table.
BERNIE: Evening. Good evening.
JOAN: Good evening.
BERNIE: How would you like some company. (Pause.) What if I was to sit down here? What would that do for you, huh?
JOAN: No, I don't think so, no.
Pause.
Is there something I can do for you?
BERNIE: Nope. Not a thing in the world, no. I'm just standing here, looking for some place to sit down, huh? (Pause. Sits down at her table.)
Well, is it a free country, or what?
JOAN: Don't torture me, just let me hear it, okay?
BERNIE (Pause): So here I am. I'm just in town for a one-day layover and I happen to find myself in this bar. So, so far so good. What am I going to do? I could lounge alone and lonely and stare into my drink, or I could take the bull by the horns and make an effort to enjoy myself . . .
JOAN: Are you making this up?
BERNIE: So hold on. So I see you seated at this table and I say to myself, “Doug McKenzie, there is a young woman,” I say to myself, “What is she doing here?”, and I think she is here for the same reasons as I. To enjoy herself, and perhaps, to meet provocative people. (Pause.) I'm a meteorologist for TWA. It's an incredibly interesting, but lonely job. . . . Stuck in the cockpit of some jumbo jet hours at a time . . . nothing to look at but charts . . . What are you drinking?
JOAN: Scotch on the rocks.
BERNIE: You're a scotch drinker, huh?
JOAN: Yes.
BERNIE: Well, what the hell, you're drinking scotch. But I say “Why pigeonhole ourselves?” A person makes an effort to enjoy himself, why pin a label on it, huh? This is life. You learn a lot about life working for the airlines. Because you're constantly in touch, you know with what?, with the idea of Death. (Pause.) Not that I'm a fan of morbidness, and so on. I mean what are you doing here? You're by yourself, I can see that. So what do you come here for? To what? To meet interesting new people or not. (Pause.) What else is there?
JOAN: Can I tell you something?
BERNIE: You bet.
JOAN: Forgive me if I'm being too personal . . . but I do not find you sexually attractive. (Pause.)
BERNIE: What is that, some new kind of line? Huh? I mean, not that I mind what you think, if that's what you think . . . but. . . that's a fucking rotten thing to say.
