by Paula Vogel
MAE: If that little clapbox shows again, I’ll—
URSULA: What? Beat her with your purse? Call her names? Have a stroke in the process?
MAE: Well, have you got any better ideas?
URSULA: I won’t mince words, Mae. We’ve been working together too long for that. What’s needed around here are new management ideas at the helm; someone who can make this business cost-effective.
VERA: Cost-effective?
MAE: And I suppose that person is you, Ursula.
URSULA: That’s right. “He that is wise is he that is rich.”
MAE: And what exactly would you do differently from me?
URSULA: Advertise.
LILLIAN: Advertise! Just lift your skirts, Ursula.
URSULA: Advertising’s the soul of the modern marketplace. First thing to do is to place pithy personals in the Village Voice.
MAE: Village Voice? Who reads the Village Voice?
URSULA: A younger clientele. We’ve got to face the facts: Our gentlemen callers are a dying breed. Or they’re in the hospital; or when you do get them in bed at home they can’t get it up anymore.
MAE: Still, they do the honorable thing by us. They pay.
LILLIAN: You mean we’d have younger customers? We’d end up paying them.
URSULA: No, I don’t think so. New York’s a city of diversified tastes. I think we could specialize. You know, we could seek out a Harold and Maude situation. (Grandly) We could cater to the complexes of a small circle.
VERA: Edna, what is she talking about? Who the hell is Harold?
MAE (To Ursula): I don’t think we want to know any more ideas that are cost-effective. You’re upsetting the girls.
LILLIAN: Not me. She’s entertaining me.
URSULA: Wait. Let me have my say. We should up our fees. Change to a price list. Instead of seven dollars an hour, we could start with a seven-dollar minimum, and charge for the extras. We have to increase the rate of turnover, and make the girls more time-efficient. Lillian here stays in bed with Mr. Loman much too long…
LILLIAN: Well, I just can’t jump into bed and jump out anymore, Ursula. It’s not my fault, it’s the arthritis—
URSULA: “It’s a poor workman that blames his tools…”
MAE: Are you through?
URSULA: Then there’s Entertainment Surcharge, Linen Tax, Mastercharge, Visa and—
EDNA: She’s been reading the Wall Street Journal again.
LILLIAN: No, Dale Carnegie’s How to Win Friends and Influence People. She’s halfway through the course; she can influence people.
URSULA: Well. I’ll keep my advice to myself in the future. “A bumblebee in a cow turd thinks himself a king.”
MAE: I’ve listened to you, and now you’re going to listen to me, Ursula Thaller. I’ve kept you girls together for over forty-five years. When we were closed down in Storeyville, I paid your bail; all of you got your train tickets North and a place to live. All of our gentlemen here are nice, and good to us, with a codicil in the will now and then. There’s always been money for the doctor when any of you girls are sick, and food on your table. And you know I’ve never held back on anyone. If any of you girls want to leave this stable for greener pastures, you can go. No hard feelings. Well?
LILLIAN: I stick with Mae.
VERA: Oh, dear. I hate to see fighting on such a beautiful day. Let’s forget the whole thing.
EDNA: Well, I think…I think…it’s not time for a change. Not now.
MAE: Well. That’s settled, then. You should be proud, Ursula, that you’re apprentice to a Madam.
URSULA: I say whoopee-ding. For the past fifteen years—you call that merit promotion?
MAE: When I go, you’ll get your chance. You’re Second-in-Command. I think we’re all agreed upon that. When you carry me out feet first, Ursula’s in charge and you’re all going to listen to her as if to me. It’s important to me that we keep together. When I pass away, I’d like to think of you all carrying on.
LILLIAN: Nonsense, Mae. You’re as strong as a horse.
VERA (Trembling): Oh, Mae…
MAE (Looking at Ursula): I don’t intend to go anywhere, yet.
URSULA: I’m only trying to point out the facts of life. “Old Vessels Leak.” You forgot to collect the money from this morning, Mae. You’re losing your touch.
MAE (Sniffs): I did NOT forget. I was… (Clears her throat)… I was just about to get around to that. You know, Ursula, you’re a whore with the soul of a businesswoman. And I’m a businesswoman with the soul of a whore. And THAT is the difference between us.
(Briskly) Ladies, please get out your purse and have your money ready.
(The women rustle through their handbags.)
MAE: All right, then: Vera, what do you have to report?
(Vera stands and walks toward Mae; she hands over her money.)
VERA: I have seven dollars plus a one-dollar tip.
MAE: Seven dollars plus a one-dollar tip. That’s eight.
EDNA (As Vera walks back): Well? Did he come today?
(The other women laugh.)
vera: I don’t think it’s nice of you to make fun of Mr. Francis behind his back…he tries so hard.
LILLIAN: That answers your question, Edna.
URSULA: I don’t understand why the fool tips if he doesn’t get anything out of the deal…
VERA (Tenderly): It’s not just for the sex, Ursula. I…I hold him when he cries…He’s a very nice man.
EDNA: Mr. Francis’s idea of a lay is lying down.
MAE: He’s a good and regular customer. Always pays up. Edna? What do you have?
(Edna struts over with pride to Mae and hands her the money.)
EDNA: Fourteen AND two dollars and fifty cents in tips.
LILLIAN: Good show.
MAE: Yes, that’s good. Fourteen plus $2.50. That makes $16.50.
(Edna walks back.)
EDNA: And I had to work my ass for every penny. Mr. Andrew was a lamb, as always, but Mr. Benjamin! All around the room he was! I told him, “Mr. Benjamin, you’d make an eighteen year old scream!!” God, he’s one cocky man…
URSULA (Dour): It must be the medication he’s on.
VERA: Whatever it is, I wish he could lend Mr. Francis some…
MAE: Mr. Benjamin’s very fond of you, Edna. He’s told me. So then, we’re up to Lillian. Lillian?
(Lillian does not rise)
Well, Lillian, what about this morning?
LILLIAN (Hesitating): I hope you won’t be mad at me, Mae. But I didn’t know what to do…
URSULA: Do about what?
MAE: Didn’t you go up to Mr. Loman’s room at 11:30?
LILLIAN: Yes, I went. But…
URSULA: But what?
MAE (Warning): Ursula…
LILLIAN: I went at the appointed time; I kept my side of the bargain…but he’s not very well.
MAE: Did he cancel?
LILLIAN: No, not exactly…he’s all right in that department. I gave him the usual, but when it came time for payment…
MAE: Ah, I see. Short of cash, long on horn?
LILLIAN: No, he paid. He paid with these. (Draws out of her purse long silk stockings circa 1945, with the seam running down the middle) He insisted that I take these for payment. Said he’s paid a lot of money for them while on the road in Boston; he…he said they were hard to get, what with the war going on and all. Mr. Loman thinks that stockings and chocolate are a better bet than our currency as long as…as long as the “Japanese are beating the pants off our boys in the Pacific Theatre.” Those were his exact words.
MAE: Ah, I see.
(There is a respectful silence as the women realize that Mr. Loman has lost his marbles.)
MAE: Well, I think you did the right thing, Lillian.
URSULA: The right thing! Look at them! No one’s wearing stockings with garter belts anymore! What good are they?
LILLIAN: I’ve been wearing a garter belt on Saturday morning for Mr. Loman; he’s partial to ’em.
EDNA: I agree with Mr. Loman. They make women look sexy; it’s definitely a “turn-on”…
URSULA: That’s besides the point! This is worse than passing a bad check…
LILLIAN: Mae, what are we going to do? About Mr. Loman I mean?
MAE (Slowly): I don’t know. He’s been left alone for too long.
LILLIAN: He looks forward to my visit once a week so much…
URSULA: Well, we can’t have charity cases hanging on—we’re not Meals on Wheels!
(To herself) Chocolates and stockings! What good are they? They’re not even staples…
EDNA: Maybe we should say something to someone in charge at Jefferson Square…
MAE: That’s the least we can do. Thing is, though, Jefferson Square’s just apartments; the front desk doesn’t look out for the tenants. They think they’ve done their responsibility just because they’ve installed handle bars by the toilet and the tub. If we tell them that Mr. Loman’s…deteriorating, they’ll say he should go to a home.
(Pause.)
LILLIAN: He was doing just fine…until this morning. Maybe it’s temporary.
MAE: It’s not a good sigh. Maybe he should go to a home. Jefferson Square’s designed for folks with all their fixtures in working condition. Does he have any relations, Lillian?
LILLIAN: Two good-for-nothing sons who are only God-knows-where.
MAE (Wearily): Well. I’ll drop by there tonight and have a chat with him.
(Pause, as if a requiem for Mr. Loman. Then Mae, shaking her head, gets back to business.)
MAE: All right now. We’re up to you, Ursula. How did you make out?
(Ursula stiffly hands over the money.)
URSULA: Seven dollars.
MAE (Frowning): No tip?
URSULA: No tip.
LILLIAN: Mr. Ezra, last of the big time spenders!
URSULA: Well, he pays. I don’t mind. At least he’s not a gabber; he doesn’t bend my ears with ramblings and soft words…
LILLIAN: I bet he doesn’t.
URSULA: That suits me just fine. I like ’em silent. I come into his room and he’s in bed, ready and undressed. No small talk. A man of business. I say, “Good morning, Mr. Ezra.” He says, “Good Morning.” And then he gets right to the point—
LILLIAN: Premature ejaculation?
(Mae checks over the money and counts it again; she makes out a Citibank deposit slip.)
URSULA: I get the same rate for five minutes that you all get for twenty. “The more fool he.”
VERA: I like to cuddle with some of the gentlemen. Like Mr. Francis. He’s got the softest gray hair on his chest. I could lie there for hours…
URSULA: That’s what I mean by faster turnover. If they want to cuddle, give ’em their hot water bottle.
MAE: Well, we’re a little short, today.
URSULA: It came to $31.50.
MAE: Thank you, Ursula, we can all count.
URSULA: That doesn’t even pay the rent.
LILLIAN: Thank God Mr. Zabar’s rooms are rent controlled. We’re safe.
MAE: Edna, can you approach Mr. Benjamin on Thursday and ask him to consider three times a week? He can afford it.
URSULA: If spermatozoons were nickels, that man would be a millionaire by now.
EDNA: I don’t know if I can take him three times a week. But I’m willing to die trying.
MAE: Good girl. Well, ladies, if you’ll give me your undivided attention for a few minutes. Here’s how matters stand: Earned income for each of us is forty-seven dollars and sixty cents per week. I pay each of you sixty dollars a week. Which means we are depleting our savings account to the tune of fifty dollars per month.
VERA: Oh, dear.
MAE: Some measures need to be taken. Lillian…
LILLIAN: Yes.
MAE: Next Tuesday you start with Mr. Sidney. As he’s a new customer, we’ll up the fee to ten dollars. We keep the fee the same for our regulars. Only new customers will be increased.
LILLIAN: Right.
MAE: Secondly…there will be no increase in your weekly allowance. It’s adequate…
LILLIAN: Barely.
MAE: Well, we have no expenses right now. No carfare. We can walk down the seven blocks it takes…Remember, President Reagan has called on all Americans to reduce the deficit, and to balance the budget. We can start here. We can tighten our belts. No more two-hour lunches.
(There is a united groan from the women.)
VERA: I get gas when I don’t digest properly, Mae. And there’s nothing more embarrassing…
MAE: Well, then, moan or something. Cover it over. Mr. Francis doesn’t hear too well, anyway.
To continue. All of our customers should be encouraged to increase the number of our visits. Mr. Benjamin. Mr. Franklin. Mr. Samuel. If it’s not hazardous to their health. And Ursula. I want you to give a little extra to Mr. Ezra. If you give extra, he’ll give extra. No more flat fees.
URSULA: It’s squeezing water from a stone.
MAE: Then squeeze... All of you are hard workers; there’s not a shirker in the bunch. We can’t rely on legacies from our gentlemen. We have to pull our own weight. All of our gentlemen are very pleased; and I’m very proud when I stroll in the evening and meet our friends down the block—they all have lovely things to say. I’m very proud. But I’d appreciate it if you would all try especially hard in the next few weeks. Say nice things about how they look, and don’t talk politics or money or about anything in the newspaper—it puts them off their feed. And it raises their blood pressure, too. Make them feel romantic and strong, and those tips will keep rolling in. Any questions, Edna?
EDNA: No.
MAE: Vera?
VERA: No, Mae.
MAE: We need to straighten up and fly right. We’ve got to be prepared.
URSULA: Just what are we preparing for?
MAE: Change. I think now would be a good time to tell them, Vera.
VERA: Oh, Mae, I don’t know.
(The women look at Vera with expectation.)
MAE: I think we’d all like to share in your good news.
VERA: Well…Mr. Simon has asked for my hand in marriage.
(There is a considerable stir on the bench.)
EDNA: Mr. Simon!
(Ursula begins to laugh. She laughs for a long time, which makes Edna and Vera laugh. Ursula tries to stop, but can’t—the effort makes her cry. Pause.)
URSULA: I don’t know when I’ve had such a laugh.
LILLIAN: I don’t know that it’s that funny.
VERA: I don’t mind, Lillian. It is funny, come to think of it.
URSULA: It’s just that…Mr. Simon’s going to make an honest woman of her.
(Ursula starts laughing again.)
EDNA: Isn’t he Mr. Jonathan’s former golf partner?
VERA: Yes. The three of us used to…have a good time together.
EDNA: Are you going to accept?
VERA: I haven’t made up my mind yet. I don’t know.
URSULA: If he’s fool enough to ask, you should be fool enough to accept.
LILLIAN: I don’t know, Vera.
MAE: And why not, Lillian?
LILLIAN: Hasn’t he already had three wives?
MAE: Yes. So?
LILLIAN: Well, doesn’t it make you wonder? Why they all died before him?
VERA: They didn’t all die. Two of them left him first. Then they died.
EDNA: But we do know why they left. Boredom.
MAE: Mr. Simon has a pension. And money in the bank. It’s security.
VERA: I don’t know that I will.
MAE: Be sensible, Vera. He’s much older than you are. He’s eighty-six.
URSULA (Bristling): That’s not so old.
LILLIAN: I think he’s a dull, stodgy old fart. Don’t do it, Vera.
VERA: I haven’t made up my mind yet.
URSULA: Well, Vera, I don’t suppose you’ll marry in white.
(Ursula laughs.)
MAE: Look, Ursula, this kind o
f thing happens all the time. Remember Jeannette? Pretty little girl. Left the Life, got married to an accountant.
URSULA: Of course he was an accountant. Knew a bargain when he saw one. Used goods go cheap.
MAE: Well, as far as we know, she made a good match.
URSULA: That was different.
EDNA: Why?
URSULA: Jeannette was all of eighteen. Vera’s not just a Woman with a Past; she’s a Woman with an Epic.
EDNA: Does Mr. Simon love you?
VERA: Well, I make him feel clever. He talks and I listen.
LILLIAN: Well, I wouldn’t care if he was the King of Siam. I wouldn’t do it.
MAE: There won’t be many more offers down the pike. And when Mr. Simon’s time is up, all of his benefits will go to Vera.
URSULA: Mr. Simon’s better off marrying Vera than one of those grandmother floozies in Jefferson Square.
EDNA: Have you told Mr. Francis yet?
VERA (Desperate): I haven’t made up my mind yet!
EDNA: He’s going to be very upset.
VERA: Edna, if I do decide to marry Mr. Simon, you’d look after Mr. Francis, wouldn’t you?
EDNA: Of course I would.
VERA: So I wouldn’t have to worry.
EDNA: But even if you did marry Mr. Simon, couldn’t you visit Mr. Francis now and then?
MAE: Vera will do nothing of the kind. Once a girl leaves the Life, she has to go straight all the way.
URSULA: That’s right, Vera. It’s “Till Death do you part.”
EDNA: I don’t know. I think Mr. Simon would look cute with horns.
LILLIAN: Oh, God. Marital sex is so dull.
URSULA: Wait a moment. What about Vera’s customers?
VERA: Yes, that’s right. I can’t do this to you. I’ll just thank Mr. Simon for the honor but—
MAE: We can figure it out. Make up new schedules.
URSULA: That’s a lot of lost income, Mae, to just let whistle down the drain—
MAE: Vera should do what makes her happy.
URSULA: Of course, there will be less expenses this way, too.
VERA: Stop it! All of you! I’m not ready for this! I need to make up my own mind.
URSULA: If we’re going to be so hard-pressed, Mae, why don’t you take on some trade as well?
MAE: I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that suggestion, Ursula.
LILLIAN: What’s wrong with you today, Ursula? You’ve been riding Mae all day…It’s because of Mae in the first place that you even have one five-minute fuck—
