Born Bad

by Andrew Vachss

  LYZA: And you work here?

  BOLO: Yeah. It's perfect for me. Eight at night to four in the morning, five times a week. Like the night manager, I guess. This way, I'm off the streets when it gets dark, see? I mean, this ain't no career, okay? I'm just saving my money. I get enough saved up, I'm off. To Australia. Soon as I get there, I'm buying a touring bike–a monster Kawasaki. I heard there's some great waves over there and I figure on seeing most of them, (Pause.)

  LYZA: Well, I'm here for the interview.

  BOLO: Okay, here's how it works. It's real simple. Guys call, they want to talk to a girl. They want…different stuff…depending on the guy, you understand? It's all a game, like acting. Fantasy stuff. You get to be one of the regular girls…See the chart over there? (Indicating the wall chart) Each girl does a different thing. We get some regulars, they always ask for the same girl, once they find one they like. That's why we keep the chart–so we can know who played what girl every day. Most of the time, they don't much care. I do this little spiel, find out kinda what they want. Sometimes, they don't want to tell me…then it'd be your job to find out, see?

  LYZA: The ad said twenty-five dollars an hour…?

  BOLO: Yeah, right. That's one way. Or you can work on straight commission. We bill them by the minute–they give me their credit card, I run it on the computer over there (Indicating) and if the card's good, they're off to the races. The longer you keep them on the phone, the more money you make.

  LYZA: How much do you charge them?

  BOLO: We tell 'em it's a buck ninety-five a minute, but this timer we got, it comes out to more than two and a quarter.

  LYZA: A minute?

  BOLO: (Laughs) Yeah! You work on commission, you can figure about sixty bucks an hour just for your end.

  LYZA: Wow!

  BOLO: And we pay in cash, too. End of each shift, you get your money. I keep track of it on this timer here…It's not for the other calls, just for the ones coming in here, understand?

  LYZA: Don't all the calls come in here?

  BOLO: No way! Some nights, I'm the only one here. Most of the time, we just use this call-forwarding deal–I switch them right into the girls' homes. You work tonight, you'll be the only one.

  LYZA: I just talk to them on the phone?

  BOLO: Well…yeah. But…look, I don't mean to get in your business or anything, but…I mean, you look like an actress made up for a part or something, okay? I mean, some of these callers, they're not looking for romance, you understand what I'm saying. Hard core is what we sell here. Even over the phone, it can get kind of ugly. Have you ever…?

  LYZA: Look, I am an actress.

  BOLO: Oh, yeah, we get a lot of actresses working here….

  LYZA: Okay, never mind the sarcasm. It's not that you would have seen me in the movies or anything, but I'm an actress. That's what I do. I sing, I dance…light comedy, Shakespeare…everything. I had lessons from the time I was just a baby. My Daddy paid for them…I was an only child and I guess he kind of spoiled me. I used to put on concerts for him, do little plays, dress up like a fairy princess. He's a doctor, over in Winnetka. I came to Chicago to work. And it's hard. I mean, if you were in the business, you'd know that. It's real hard to get a break, get a chance to show people what you can do. The thing is, I'm short of money. Daddy wanted me to stay in a nice place, and I promised him I would. What with the rent and clothes and going to auditions all the time, it adds up. I could just pick up the phone and ask Daddy for money and he'd send it right down to me. In fact, I was just thinking about it when I saw your ad. The phone, see? Kind of like Kismet. So I thought I'd come down here and audition for you instead.

  BOLO: You mean like for a play or something? That's why you're dressed like this'

  LYZA: Well, it is that, isn't it? Come on, give me a chance. Everything I told you was the truth. This is just a job. An acting job.

  BOLO: Yeah, I know, but…

  LYZA: Come on. Go sit over on the couch. Drink your beer, pretend you're an audience, okay?

  (BOLO makes a rueful face, shrugs, and walks over to the couch. LYZA leaps lightly from the poor to the desk, seated, her legs dangling over the side, clasps her hands in front of her, takes a deep breath. She plows through her bag, pulls out a small tape recorder, plugs in a cassette. A musical intro flows out. Then she launches into a sweet version of "You Made Me Lose You," switching to a bawdier tone nearer the climax.)

  BOLO: All right! (Claps, not faking it) Girl, you can sing.

  (LYZA luxuriates in the applause…the applause she lives for. Bows, does a little curtsy as though she were wearing a full dress, then pulls a natural segue into a dance number, using most of the office as a stage. Ends up back on the desk, blows BOLO a kiss.)

  BOLO: (Claps again) Okay, okay. Anybody asks me, you got what it takes. (Getting up from the couch and returning to the desk chair) But listen to me a minute, okay? There's only one way you can do this job, see? You got to tell yourself, you're like an…outlet, you know what I mean? Some of these guys who call, they sound like real freaks, real sickos. But it's all in their head. I mean, let's face it, they're getting off on it–that's why they call, spend their money. But it's not real, understand? Some of them, they want…things…if it scares you, it's okay. Just give me the signal…You can see me from where you work, see that window right through there (Indicating)...and I'll call it off. It's really funny, you look at it the right way. You see the chart? See the name Kitty? Under S-R. That's short for Sexy Romance. Soft stuff. She talks so sweet it sounds like honey on ice cream…got a whole Hock of regulars love to hear her talk dirty to them. Well, her real name's Bertha, and she weighs about three hundred goddamned pounds. Sits there on her fat ass in her house over in Hegwisch, plopped on her sofa, stuffing bonbons into her piggy face. These guys who call, if they could ever see her, they'd have a fit. It's all a game….I know you're an actress and all, but you gotta remember…it's not for real.

  LYZA: I understand.

  BOLO: Maybe you do, maybe you don't. We'll give it a spin, okay? You want the hourly rate, or take a shot on commission?

  LYZA: How would I make more?

  BOLO: Look…what's your name, anyway?

  LYZA: Lyza. Lyza with a y, not an i. L-Y-Z-A.

  BOLO: That's a pretty name.

  LYZA: It's a stage name. I picked it myself. When I was just a little girl. Lyza Langtree. I always knew what I wanted to be. It has a nice ring, doesn't it?

  BOLO: Yeah. Lyza. Well, as far as how you'd make more, it's all the luck of the draw, you know? The way it works, if there's a girl working inside, here with me, I try and throw all the business I can her way…unless they ask for one of the regulars. And even if they do, sometimes I tell them that girl's not working tonight, you know? It gets pretty busy sometimes, but, this is a Tuesday and all. Probably our slowest night. Friday's the best. And it's early yet…they really don't get rolling until just before midnight. It's up to you.

  LYZA: Well…I think I'll try the commission thing. What do I do, just wait around for the phone to ring?

  BOLO: That's about it.

  LYZA: Well, that's sure as hell like the acting business too!

  BOLO: I'll bet. Me, I never worry. There's always something. I just let it happen. Come on, I'll show you where you work.

  (BOLO leads LYZA into the second room set up next to the first, equally open to the audience. There's a leather psychiatrist's couch, a straight chair, a recliner, some pillows thrown around, and a single Princess phone, white, with an extra-long cord. BOLO demonstrates how you can walk around the entire room still talking into the instrument.)

  BOLO: Bathroom's in the back. I keep a few snacks in the refrigerator. You need to take a break, just let me know.

  LYZA: What are theses (Holding up a sheaf of magazines)

  BOLO: (Mildly embarrassed) Porno stuff. They got pictures and like…letters and stuff. Some of the girls, they read them while they're on the phone…so they know what to say. But we got it
better organized than that…see? (Pointing to a red plastic milk crate full of file folders, He takes one folder out…just a plain manila folder, like you'd find in a law office.) This is the B&D folder, okay?

  LYZA: B&D?

  BOLO: Uh, Bondage and Discipline. You know, handcuffs, whips, like that. See, there's a script in each folder, okay? I find out what the guy wants or, like I said, he tells you. Then you pull out the folder and you got sort of…guidelines…you know?

  LYZA: (Thumbing through the pages) "Ohh, baby, that hurts–!"

  (Laughs) How's that for delivery?

  BOLO: (Chuckles) Okay. You convinced me.

  LYZA: Then I'm hired?

  BOLO: Sure. We get a call, then it's rock 'n' roll. You want a cup of coffee or something?

  LYZA: A glass of water?

  BOLO: You got it. (Goes to the water cooler, LYZA trailing behind him. He pushes the tap, hands her a paper cup. LYZA sips it like it was champagne, legs crossed. BOLO picks up a grip exerciser, squeezes it rhythmically, a magazine on his lap, watching her. The phone rings.)

  BOLO: (Going over to the desk, picking up the phone. LYZA is still perched on the desk, doesn't move.) AYW Enterprises, how can I help you? (Pause) Yes, Kitty is working this evening, sir. May I have your credit card information for verification please? (Pause) Thank you, sir–I'll be back on line with you in just a moment. (Hits some keys on the computer, watches the screen, nods. Picks up another phone.)…Bertha? It's Bolo. I got this Jacobs character on the main line. Okay to send him over? Right. (Pushes a button on the phone. A light starts blinking. Picks up the first phone.) All right, sir, I'm connecting you right now–have a good evening. (Pushes one of the buttons on the main phone, watches the lights, nods to himself. BOLO gets up, makes a notation on the wall chart, rubs his hands together in an "all done" gesture.)

  LYZA: That's it?

  BOLO: Sure. When it's a regular, all we do is hook them up. The timer runs internally, sucking money off his credit card. When the light stops blinking, it means Bertha's done with him.

  LYZA: You don't pay her in cash every night, do you?

  BOLO: No way–it'd be impossible. See, all the girls, they start out here first. Like a trial period. If it works out, they work right outta their houses. They come in once a week, see the boss, and get their money.

  LYZA: Still in cash?

  BOLO: No, we give them a check, just like in a regular business. For the tax man, you know? Of course, if they earned, say, five hundred, we'd give them a check for two, pay them the rest under the table.

  LYZA: Oh.

  BOLO: Hey, come on, everybody does it. We ain't no more illegitimate than your everyday business, right? Your father, the doctor, you think he reports every dime he gets to the authorities?

  LYZA: He does! You don't know him.

  BOLO: Well that's just fine, Miss Priss–but it ain't the way it works down this end of town. Everybody plays the game. You think these guys who call, they want some sex service on their credit card bill? That's why the boss calls it AYW Enterprises…can't tell what that is, right?

  LYZA: What does it stand for? Anything?

  BOLO: (Smiles) Yeah, it stands for Anything You Want. That's our specialty here: anything you want…only it's all in their heads.

  LYZA: How come…? (The phone rings.)

  BOLO: AYW Enterprises, how can I help you? (Pause) Yes sir, we have exactly what you want. Candy's here tonight. (Pointing at LYZA, gesturing that she's to go into the next room) In fact, she's all alone, just kind of pacing around the bedroom….You know how girls get, right? If you'll just give me some credit card information for verification…(BOLO types some numbers into the keyboard, watches the screen.) Well, now that's just fine, sir. If you'll hold a moment, I'll connect you to Candy. (Gets up, walks briskly into the next room. LYZA is sitting by the Princess phone, back straight, breathing through her nose. ) You gonna be all right?

  LYZA: Sure. I'm just centering, getting ready for the role.

  BOLO: Okay. What this guy wants, it's almost like a date. Soft stuff, least that's what he told me. Use this script….(Handing her a folder from the milk crate) It'll kind of give you the guidelines. He wants a big, busty blonde, got it? You ready?

  LYZA: Yes!

  BOLO: (Goes back to his desk. Pushes a button.) All right, sir. I'm connecting you to Candy right now. Have a good evening. (Pushes a button, hits the timer. The digital timer starts counting.) [NOTE TO DIRECTOR: THIS CLOCK SHOULD COUNT FASTER THAN "REAL TIME."] (Calling across to LYZA) You're on.

  LYZA: (Picking up the phone) Hello. (Double-syllable, sultry-voiced) Who is this? (Pause) Oh Sam, I'm so glad you called. I was getting so lonely, here, all by myself. (Pause) Oh, okay…well, I don't know where to start. I'm blonde, about five foot seven. I have big blue eyes….(Pause) Well, a girl doesn't like to talk about that but, since you asked so nicely, I'm about 38-24-37. (Pause) Well, I was just getting dressed when you called. I just have my stockings and garter belt on. I was just trying to stuff myself into this little bra when the phone rang. Just give me minute to get it hooked….(Miming the gesture of fastening a bra, holding the phone against her neck. Pause.) Oh! Okay, baby, if that's what you want. (Gestures like she's letting the bra fall to the ground.) Uhmmm…that's sweet. Yes, I really like that. (Arching her back, eyes closed. She's still murmuring into the phone. Blackout.)

  Scene 2

  LYZA is once again perched on the telephone desk, munching on a carrot stick. She's wearing a set of baggy sweats, heavy socks on her feet, hair down, reading a copy of Variety. BOLO is facing her. There is a sense of passage of time: the big clock over the charts now reads 2:05.

  BOLO: You're getting pretty good at this, huh? That last guy, I thought he was going to stay on the line till dawn.

  LYZA: I told you, didn't I'? I'm just getting into it. Before you know, they'll all be asking for me.

  BOLO: I believe it, girl. But remember what I told you, the later it gets, the more they come out from under the rocks.

  LYZA: I know. I know. It doesn't matter. It's a job, like you said.

  An acting job. And I'm good at it. Go on, admit it…haven't

  I done better than anyone else, my first night?

  BOLO: You have, that's a fact. And they all say, the girls, the first one's the hardest. This is what's happening now. You know, all that safe sex stuff…AIDS and all. What some people say, in the nineties, phone sex is going to be how people get off.

  LYZA: Poor sorry bastards. They must really be lonely, to spend this kind of money just to have someone talk to them on the phone.

  BOLO: I don't think they're so different, really. I read in this magazine once…you get to do a lot of reading on a job like this…I read that therapy is nothing more than the purchase of friendship.

  LYZA: What's that supposed to mean?

  BOLO: Well, what the writer was saying, it's like, if you had a real good friend, you could tell them your problems, you understand? Tell them your secrets. You got nobody to listen to you, you tell a therapist. And they charge by the hour too.

  LYZA: But a therapist isn't just supposed to listen–he's supposed to help you, right?

  BOLO: I think this stuff does help them. I mean, a lot of hookers, that's what they call themselves now. Therapists, right? Surrogate therapy, role playing…all the stuff they advertise for…that's just fancy names for sex. And it helps, sometimes. Sex, I mean. Gives the blues a real kick in the ass if you're down.

  LYZA: But they know…I mean, they know I wouldn't be talking to them if they didn't pay.

  BOLO: It's fantasy, like I told you. That's part of the fantasy, see? That you're really their girlfriend or whatever. It doesn't hurt anyone.

  (The phone rings. BOLO picks it up. Goes through his spiel. LYZA is already heading into her room. BOLO tells the caller to hang on. Goes over to the chart, checks S&M with a Magic Marker, walks into LYZA's room.)

  BOLO: I know this guy. He wants a different girl every time. One of those "let'
s meet and beat" freaks. He wants a hard-core fem-dom. It's this script (Handing her a folder) And you'll probably have to use this too. (Handing her a leather belt) You up for it?

  LYZA: Sure. Let's play.

  BOLO: (Returns to his once, picks up phone) All right sir, Mistress Tanya has agreed to speak with you. Hold on just a second, now.

  LYZA: (Picks up the phone) Who is this? (Poring over the script, speed-reading, moving her finger along the page. Hard, cold, domineering voice.) You want a lesson, do you? Well, you came to the right place. This is Mistress Tanya. Now get on your knees and tell me what you did to deserve discipline. (BOLO makes a gesture of approval. LYZA acknowledges it, but brushes him off concentrating on her lines. Pause.) Is that right? I can't hear you, you miserable little creature, speak up! (Pause) That's right…that's right. Tell me the whole thing. Don't you dare leave anything out.

  (BOLO, satisfied she has it under control, and proud of her speed-reading, gives her a high five, walks out of the room. The audience sees LYZA whispering into the phone. BOLO goes into his office, picks up a magazine, starts to read. LYZA keeps talking on the phone. Phone rings.)

  BOLO: AYW Enterprises, how can I help you? (Pause) Sure. No problem. Absolutely. You don't find any of the girls here drawing those kinds of lines, sir. I mean, people have a right to express themselves, don't they' Sure. All I need is a credit card number and you're in business. Yes sir, okay. Now if you'll just stay on the line while I run that through…

  (Focus shifts back and forth between BOLO and LYZA emphasized by lighting and by who is speaking most audibly. BOLO occasionally answers a call, switches the lines, taps into his computer. LYZA slips off her sweatpants. She's wearing the fishnet stockings and a garter belt under them. She puts on her spike heels, all the while talking into the phone. LYZA stalks around the room, obviously speaking in a commanding voice. Finally, she picks up the leather belt.)