CHICKIE: Yeah.
DEMARIS: Dass ’cuz it’s name brand!
CHICKIE: It’s furry inside.
DEMARIS: You could have it, okay?
CHICKIE: You mean, like “have it” have it?
DEMARIS: Lissen, mama … I’m sorry about, like, threatenin’ your life and shit. Okay?
CHICKIE: Okay.
DEMARIS: Dat ain’t me. I mean, it is me, but … you know the dilly, right?
CHICKIE: It’s okay, Demaris.
DEMARIS: So you could teach me now?
CHICKIE: I just really need to get high, you know?
DEMARIS: You could take my chain and pawn it. Here, take it.
CHICKIE: Do I have ta pay you back?
DEMARIS: Are you my friend?
CHICKIE: Yeah—
DEMARIS: Then you doan haveta! We friends now, okay?
CHICKIE: Okay.
DEMARIS: We niggas, right?
CHICKIE: Yeah.
DEMARIS: And if a nigga’s my friend, Chickie, then I got that nigga’s back. I want you to know that. And even though you ain’t really down, I still consider you as down, ‘cuz you good people, you a friend. And if a nigga’s a friend, then I put them in the books for life. I put them ahead a everybody, even family, ’cuz they the real family, know what I’m sayin’, Chickie?
(Pause)
CHICKIE: Do you know who Jon Seda is?
DEMARIS: You mean that fine nigga from TV?
CHICKIE: My boyfriend knows him.
DEMARIS: Yeah?
CHICKIE: I spoke to him on the phone one time; he sounds just like on TV.
DEMARIS: He fine.
CHICKIE: Me and my boyfriend, we’re gone leave here soon and go be with Jon Seda.
DEMARIS: For real?
CHICKIE: Yup.
DEMARIS: I could come too?
CHICKIE: I gotta ask my boyfriend first, that is, if I can find him, but, yeah, maybe.
DEMARIS: I could bring Evan?
CHICKIE: Yeah.
DEMARIS: Jon Seda got like a mansion, right?
CHICKIE: He’s got a built-in pool!
DEMARIS: For real? We could swim in there?
CHICKIE: Thing is, we gotta save money, ’cuz you know how guys are, they don’t save good.
DEMARIS: How much you got saved?
CHICKIE: Right now? Nothin’. I mean, I had something saved before, but I had to make an emergency purchase ’cuz, well, I ended up smoking it, but, like, if me and you teamed up, we could be on the road with my boyfriend and Evan prolly like in a month.
DEMARIS: I like the way that sounds: “On the Road.” You mean like in a car, right?
CHICKIE: Yeah.
DEMARIS: Mercedes?
CHICKIE: Or a Ford.
DEMARIS: “Built ta last,” right? And we could drink champagne in the car and play games?
CHICKIE: Yeah. And we could stay in motels.
DEMARIS: Thass like a hotel, right?
CHICKIE: Do you like poems?
DEMARIS: Yeah.
CHICKIE: We could make up some poems in the car, like, poems about things.
DEMARIS: And eat chocolate!
CHICKIE: I’m thinkin’ that when we get to Jon Seda’s—
DEMARIS: I’m gonna fuck that nigga, watch!
CHICKIE: We could be like two couples.
DEMARIS: You seen Jon Seda’s ass in Primal Fear? Dat shit is clean.
CHICKIE: You ever smoke crack?
DEMARIS: Nah … but don’t tell nobody.
CHICKIE: See, the truth is, Demaris … you’re really bad at this, but if you smoke a little crack, it’s gonna take the edge off your … edge, ya know?
DEMARIS: Okay.
CHICKIE: Especially when you’re just startin’ out, like you. It helps.
DEMARIS: So less go get some.
CHICKIE: I’m a crackhead, you know that, right? I’m a pretty good crackhead, but still …
DEMARIS: So? I still like you.
CHICKIE: But if you smoke crack, ya know, people get addicted.
DEMARIS: I won’t.
CHICKIE: No, but you might …
DEMARIS: I swear ta God I won’t get addicted.
CHICKIE: Well …
DEMARIS: C’mon, Chickie, please?
CHICKIE: Well, here’s the only thing I’m thinkin’: When we get to Jon Seda’s, he’s rich so he could send us to Betty Ford, and we could get clean and quit for real and then we’d be just healthy and tan all the time and hang out with my boyfriend and Jon Seda.
DEMARIS: Don Johnson goes to Betty Ford, right?
CHICKIE: I think so.
DEMARIS: Ah-aight, I’ll go. Not to fuck him or nuttin’, but juss to, like, hang out, smoke a blunt. Take a photo.
CHICKIE: Okay.
DEMARIS: Lissen: Gimme back the chain. I’ll pawn it and pick up some rock, okay?
CHICKIE: I could go.
DEMARIS: Nah, but, my friend, he could sell it to me cheaper, we could get bettah value like that.
CHICKIE: Okay.
DEMARIS: I’ll be right back.
CHICKIE: Okay.
DEMARIS: Wait for me.
CHICKIE: Okay.
DEMARIS: You’re gonna wait for me?
CHICKIE: Yup.
DEMARIS: I’ll be right back.
CHICKIE: Okay.
DEMARIS: You gonna wait for me, right?
CHICKIE: Uh-huh.
DEMARIS: You my nigga, Chickie.
CHICKIE: You too.
DEMARIS: I’ll be back like in ten minutes, maybe.
CHICKIE: Okay.
DEMARIS: You gonna be here when I get back, right?
CHICKIE: Yup.
DEMARIS: For real?
CHICKIE: Yes, Demaris, for real.
DEMARIS: Ah-aight.
CHICKIE: Okay.
DEMARIS: Bye.
CHICKIE: Bye.
DEMARIS: I’ll be right back.
CHICKIE: Okay.
DEMARIS: Wait for me.
(DEMARIS exits. CHICKIE lights a cigarette, smokes. HOLY ROLLER enters.)
CHICKIE: Hi, baby.
HOLY ROLLER: Are you lost?
CHICKIE: Yeah.
HOLY ROLLER: God loves the lost.
CHICKIE: Yeah?
HOLY ROLLER: Yes, ma’am, he does.
CHICKIE: What about you, mister? You love the lost?
HOLY ROLLER: Me?
CHICKIE: You a cop?
HOLY ROLLER: No.
CHICKIE: You wanna go somewhere and save me?
HOLY ROLLER: I …
CHICKIE: Uh-huh.
HOLY ROLLER: I got a room, coupla blocks.
CHICKIE: Hundred dollars. Okay?
HOLY ROLLER: Okay.
CHICKIE: Money now, mister.
HOLY ROLLER: (Opens his wallet) Three hundred dollars. Does that buy the afternoon?
CHICKIE: (Takes the money) Let’s go.
HOLY ROLLER: Jesus himself laid down with whores and sinners, serpents and snakes, people like you.
CHICKIE: I like Jesus.
HOLY ROLLER: “And the last shall be first.” What’s your name?
CHICKIE: Barbara.
HOLY ROLLER: You shall be first, Barbara. You shall be first.
CHICKIE: Okay.
Scene 2. The bar, Tuesday afternoon.
DAISY: They threw out the jukebox?
JAKE: Hey, they got CD jukeboxes now.
DAISY: But it sound better when you could hear the record scratching.
JAKE: You people ruined that jukebox.
DAISY: Don’t put me in wit’ those other people.
JAKE: (Re: his slacks) This fuckin’ stain! Goddamn Chinks, I’m gonna shove this suit up their ass! Twelve dollahs for dry cleaning, and look at this! I look like I pissed myself.
DAISY: Lemme take a look, baby.
(DAISY bends down to examine the crotch stain.)
JAKE: Twelve dollahs! The fuck does he get off thinkin’ he can charge twelve bucks? Fuckin’ Yuppie Chink
fuck! (To DAISY) Hey, hey! Ease off! Not in front of The Walking Dead over there (To SAM) Hey! Whistler’s Mother! When you finish suckin’ on that ice, it’s goodbye time.
SAMMY: The hobos, if ya gave them food, they’d put an “X” wit’ chalk on your stoop so’s another hobo would know it. They’d put an “X”—
JAKE: Yeah yeah, “X” this. (To DAISY) Jesus Christ, look at this, this is supposed to be my Florida suit.
DAISY: You ain’t goin’ to Florida.
JAKE: Watch me!
DAISY: With your wife, right?
JAKE: Daisy, how many times we gotta plough the same field? Yes, wit’ my wife. I got a wife, at least for now. I leave my wife now, whaddya think happens? She takes everything, I end up on a park bench wit’ you and your pals. Not me sister, I got bigger fish to fry.
DAISY: What about me?
JAKE: What about you?
DAISY: How you gonna act like that to me?
JAKE: Lissen, toots, I’m in a state a aggravation here, okay?
DAISY: You ain’t sensitive to my feelings, Jake.
JAKE: Okay, you know what? If I wanted someone wit’ feelings, I’d get one I could take out in public! How’s that? … Ya see what ya made me do? Ya see how ya made me stoop? I need a brawd’s gonna bring me back up to my level, not drag me down to hers.
DAISY: It’s like dat, huh?
JAKE: Sweetheart, look, why can’t we enjoy the time we got now?
DAISY: I’m tired a you threatenin’ Florida on me.
JAKE: I’m sorry, okay? Lissen to me now: I made a reservation at the place you like, the Sizzler, and I’ll tell ya what: I’ll reserve the room till noon tomorrow, okay? We’ll stay up late, make fun of the pornos like we used ta, make a night a it. Whaddya say, Peaches? Say, you like the dress I got you.
DAISY: Do you like it?
JAKE: Like it? I can’t wait to rip it off you! Lemme go back, get the keys, make a call, be back in a sec.
DAISY: Whatever.
JAKE: Have a drink if ya like.
(JAKE exits to back. A beat. DAISY pours a drink. LENNY enters.)
LENNY: Hey honey, I seen you through the window.
DAISY: Whaddya mean?
LENNY: Sittin’ here wit’ Sammy. (To SAMMY) Sam-my! ¿Qué pasa? (To DAISY) Hey, thass a beautiful dress.
DAISY: Lenny—
LENNY: Don’t say it! Hey, the mirror is gone.
DAISY: Yeah.
LENNY: I miss you; I would like ta tell dat to you.
DAISY: Look—
LENNY: Lissen, I gotta coupla dollahs from my moms, why doan we get a coupla slices, go to that cheap movie theater I been hearin’ about?
DAISY: Lenny—
LENNY: Lissen, this ain’t easy for me to say, but—
(JAKE enters from the back.)
JAKE: Okay, Peaches. Let’s roll.
LENNY: Peaches? (To DAISY) What’s … what’s goin’ on?
DAISY: Nuthin’.
LENNY: How come you two’s dressed like that?
DAISY: Lenny, it’s not what you think.
LENNY: Think? Think what?
JAKE: (To LENNY) Hey, bozo, take a hike!
LENNY: Who you callin’ bozo?
JAKE: Say it walkin’, buddy.
LENNY: Why don’t you make me? (To DAISY) Wha … What is this?
DAISY: You’ve been gone six years, Lenny.
LENNY: So?
DAISY: So I gotta have a life too.
LENNY: Yeah, but … him?
DAISY: I love him.
LENNY: You love me.
DAISY: I need a man, Lenny.
JAKE: Last warning, pal.
LENNY: (To JAKE) You shut up! Just, shut up! (To DAISY) You sayin’ I ain’t a fuckin’ man? Dat what you think a me?
DAISY: I need a man, Lenny.
JAKE: All right, that’s it.
LENNY: (To JAKE) Wait a second! (To DAISY) You want a man? I’ll show you a man! I’m gonna get a job, and some money, and we gonna, we gonna go out! I’m a take you for a steak dinner and, and, then we gonna see a show; and I’m a take you on a horse and buggy through Central Park wit’ a blanket ta keep us warm! Then, when we back together, I’m a come back and put a bullet in this mothahfuckah’s head right here! Count on it!
JAKE: You wanna do it now?
LENNY: Count on it!
JAKE: You ain’t doin’ shit.
DAISY: Jake!
JAKE: Big talk, zero action! You ain’t gonna do a damn thing. Why? ‘Cuz you ain’t shit! I seen thousands like you, thirty years in this sewer! You know what you are? You’re garbage, pal. Loser garbage. Look at me! You should jump in the friggin’ Hudson, sink to the bottom wit’ the rest of the crap, ya pussy. Do decent people a favor. Get outta here! Go! (Jesus Christ, look at my suit, I swear ta God I’m goin’ to Florida!)
DAISY: Jake—
Our Lady of 121st Street Page 22
