by J. J. Murray
“I’m sure we’ll bring him back occasionally for crowd scenes,” Randy said, “but you’re missing the point. Mike is white, and he is handsome for a white man, right?”
“He’s handsome no matter what his color is,” Lauren said.
“Mmm-mm,” Barbie said.
Randy sighed. “But the point of the show—”
“Let it go, Randy,” Lauren interrupted. “I lowered myself to stare at his butt, but that’s as low as I’m willing to go today, okay? Why don’t you simply let the viewer see that he’s white? Why tell the viewer what the viewer can obviously see? ABC didn’t go out of its way to say that Olivia on Scandal was black, did they? They didn’t overplay the fact that she was black and the president was white, did they?”
“Okay, we’ll . . .” Randy sighed. “We’ll go on. Pick up from where you left off.” He stepped back. “And . . . action!”
I will not say, “He ain’t got no booty.” Lauren smiled at Barbie. “He had a nice ass, didn’t he?”
“Cut!” Randy moved to the table, resting his palms on the back of Barbie’s chair. “Lauren, it’s a booty, not an ass.”
“I use the word ass,” Lauren said. “Women have booties. Men have asses.”
Barbie nodded. “She’s right, you know. And I should know. I have booty for days. What Mike has—that is an ass.” She waved at Mike again.
Mike smiled.
Randy nodded. “Okay, okay. It’s an ass, not a booty.” He waved his hands in the air to the camera crew behind him. “Don’t, um, don’t do anything until I tell you to. We’ll run the entire scene first.” He turned to Lauren. “Go ahead.”
Lauren repeated her line. “He had a nice ass, didn’t he?”
“Nope,” Barbie said. “Looks like a straight shovel back there. He probably has divots in his hairy cheeks.”
“What’s wrong with that?” Lauren said. “As long as he knows how to work his shovel, it doesn’t matter what it looks like.”
Barbie blinked.
Lauren smiled. “And I don’t mind a hairy man at all. I wouldn’t mind if we built up a little static cling. Wouldn’t it be wonderful to have a man shock you every time he touched you?”
“He, um, he had blue eyes, though,” Barbie said. “Gotta like them.” She shot a glance at Randy, widening her eyes.
“Blue eyes are overrated,” Lauren said. “I’ll take any man who only has eyes for me.”
“Cut!” Randy yelled.
That was actually pretty good! Lauren thought. I could write this show.
Randy’s face began to sweat. “Lauren, please, I’m begging you—”
“But we’re not even filming, Randy,” Lauren interrupted. Randy’s so young for a director, and that tan looks sprayed on. Where do they get these guys? The Film School for the Overly Sensitive, Close-Minded, and Tan?
“I know we’re not filming, Lauren,” Randy said. “Why can’t you just say the line?”
“I’m getting into character,” Lauren said. “My character wants to say better lines. I’m even beginning to like my character because I’m changing the lines to something better. Don’t you want me to feel comfortable in my role?”
“Of course, but . . .” Randy knelt beside Lauren. “You’re changing the entire vibe of the scene.”
“Right,” Lauren said. “I’m making the entire vibe of the scene realistic and interesting.”
“It’s a comedy,” Randy said. “It doesn’t have to be realistic or interesting.”
What a ridiculous thing to say! “It should be,” Lauren said. “And it has to be if I am to remain on this show. I will not play a caricature, and neither should Barbie. I have never played a stereotypical black woman, and I never will.” She turned to Barbie. “Why don’t you say something like, ‘Would you look at that?’ instead of calling him a cracker?”
“I can do that,” Barbie said.
“No, you can’t,” Randy said, standing and shaking his head. “If you both go off script at the same time—”
“We’ll have a watchable show,” Lauren interrupted. “You know, we might even have a good show. Isn’t that what everybody wants? Don’t you want to direct a show that may actually last longer than a pilot? Let’s keep going. Say your next line, Barbie.”
Barbie read through the line on the cue card, closed her eyes, and puffed out her cheeks. “You ain’t . . . I mean, are you thinking about getting a little cream in your coffee, Lauren? No. That’s nasty. How about this? Are you thinking of hooking up with a guy like him? What would Marcus think?”
“Much better,” Lauren said. She touched Barbie’s hand. “Relax. This isn’t rocket science. You are not a hoochie.”
Barbie smiled. “Thank you.”
Randy cleared his throat.
“Oh, right, my line,” Lauren said. “Marcus and I are through.”
“Finally,” Randy said. “You stayed on script.”
“Because it’s a line that doesn’t demean black women or stereotype white men,” Lauren said. “A lot of people say that.” I said it just last week in between the curses and the glass breaking and while two other men were putting their pants on backward. Now that was a dramatic scene. “Let’s keep going, Barbie, and maybe Randy will catch on. Marcus and I are through.”
“Since when?” Barbie asked.
“Since I caught him doing two men on my couch,” Lauren said.
“You did?” Barbie asked. “Oh, Lauren, that’s terrible! That’s . . . that’s nasty! Who were they?”
“No, no, no!” Randy yelled. “Where did the two dudes come from?”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you, Randy,” Lauren said. “Known people. Men with wives and kids. Big names with beach houses and spotless reputations. Hallmark Hall of Fame people. I’ll bet they were even closet Republicans.”
“Really?” Barbie said. “That is so sick! What is up with men these days?”
“They say that we don’t know what we want,” Lauren said. “They don’t know what they want, either.”
“So you were Chazz’s beard all these years?” Barbie asked.
What a nasty way to put it, but it’s true. I was Chazz’s cover. “I guess I was. He only needed me around so he could appear heterosexual.”
“I always wondered why his eyebrows were so much nicer than yours,” Barbie said. “Now I know. Did he use bronzer, too?”
“You know,” Lauren said. “He did. He used it like I used blush.”
“Time out!” Randy shouted, making a T with his hands.
I may have to buy Randy a whistle, Lauren thought. He thinks he runs this show. The man is sadly mistaken.
“This show isn’t about you and Chazz Jackson, Lauren,” Randy said.
Geez! Even Randy, a no-name director, knows about Chazz’s other life. “I know that, Randy,” Lauren said. “But you have to admit, two dudes is a lot more interesting than the old ‘man banging his secretary’ cliché. That is so played out.”
“The network won’t allow that,” Randy said.
Lauren smiled. “They won’t allow two dudes? They’ll let bee-otch, cracker, orgasm, girth, and ‘going down there’ go, but they won’t let a little realism go?”
“You said doing,” Randy said.
“The original line used the word banging,” Lauren said. “Should I have said, ‘I caught him banging two dudes on my couch’?”
“No.” Randy shook his head and sighed heavily. “Look. This is a heterosexual show.”
“But the actor playing my love interest is gay in real life,” Lauren said.
“In reality, yes,” Randy said, gritting his teeth. “But not on this show. He promises to be heterosexual the entire time he’s in front of the camera. He used to be bisexual, you know.”
“The world knows he’s gay now, Randy,” Lauren said. “People will only watch this show to see how a gay white man and a heterosexual black woman fall in love and have a relationship. If that isn’t sick and twisted, I don’t know what is.”
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“You’re telling me,” Barbie said.
“Look,” Randy said. “This is a sitcom, not high Broadway drama.”
“I know that,” Lauren said. “But it doesn’t have to lower itself to the least common denominator, does it? Barbie and I are real folks talking, that’s all. This is how real folks talk to each other. Let us finish the scene, okay? I guarantee you’ll like it.”
“I already don’t,” Randy said.
“Because you haven’t heard the entire scene yet,” Lauren said. “What’s my next line?”
“Something about breaking teeth and cutting,” Barbie said.
“We’re cutting the parts about breaking and cutting,” Lauren said. “I don’t break teeth. Say your next line.”
Barbie glanced at the cue cards. “I can’t say that line. White men are good in bed, at least the ones I’ve been with. They do have rhythm, and they knew how to make my booty happy.”
Lauren smiled. “You rearranged those lines well.”
“Thank you,” Barbie said.
“Stop! Just stop!” Randy shouted. “You two are missing the point of the show. Lauren’s character is supposed to discover all this about white men during this show. That’s what makes it funny. She has to be clueless about white men in the beginning. She learns more and more about white men as the show progresses.”
“And while the show regresses race relations in America,” Lauren said. “I will not play an idiot, Randy, and that’s what this script makes me into. This script is pathetic. Barbie is ‘a regular Starbucks’? My ex’s secretary is a ‘milky white heifer’? ‘Joe Bob’s hair smelled like mildew and Grandma’s draws’? ‘At least they can always get you a cab in this city’? ‘Light-skinned chocolate baby with good hair and a trust fund’?”
“ ‘Who can dance real good about half the time,’ ” Barbie added.
“How are any of those lines funny, Randy?” Lauren asked.
“You’re taking those lines out of context,” Randy said. “In context, they are all funny.”
“In context,” Lauren said, “they are all offensive.”
“Our test audience thought they were hilarious,” Randy said. “They fell on the floor, laughing.”
“Was there an earthquake at the time?” Lauren asked.
“No,” Randy said. “They thought it was funny.”
“You subjected a test audience to this?” Lauren asked. “Really? Are they currently in therapy?”
“No,” Randy said. “I read all the parts to them, and they left laughing.”
“Who was in your test audience?” Lauren asked. “Drunk and high people who will laugh at anything?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Randy said. “They loved this scene. They were dying laughing.”
“Are you sure they weren’t crying out in pain?” Lauren asked. “Sometimes people in severe pain sound as if they’re laughing.”
“There is nothing wrong with this script,” Randy said. “Nothing.”
“There is nothing right with this script,” Lauren said. “Overall, it’s racist, Randy, and saying that white men hang out in grocery stores, bowling alleys, and golf courses is simply wrong. Men of all races hang out everywhere, yet you want my character to go to a flea market in Hell’s Kitchen to find a man. A friend of mine tells me Hell’s Kitchen isn’t a pleasant place to be, much less to shop.” I’m glad that Patrick is my friend. “To be perfectly black about it, Randy, that scene ain’t happenin.’ Where’s the writer? I know I could talk some sense into the writer.”
“The writer wishes to remain anonymous,” Randy said.
“I can see why,” Barbie said.
“You beat me to it,” Lauren said. I am beginning to like Barbie very much. “Well, who is she—or he?”
“She is from LA,” Randy said, “and she has been in many interracial relationships.”
“I can see why,” Barbie said again.
“You beat me to it again,” Lauren said.
“The script is based on her experiences right here in LA,” Randy said.
“LA?” Lauren said. “But the show takes place in New York City.”
“Her experiences are universal,” Randy said.
“In which universe?” Lauren asked. “Her experiences are not the norm. I ought to know, right? I have dated interracially for half of my life.”
“The writer is an expert,” Randy said. “She knows what she’s talking about. I’ve heard her speak.”
“So she speaks in stereotypes, does she?” Lauren said. “I don’t think I want to meet her now.”
“What stereotypes?” Randy asked.
“Where aren’t there stereotypes?” Lauren asked. “Let’s examine this scene right here. Two sisters sitting at an outdoor café see a white man and immediately begin talking about his ‘hairy shovel with no meat’ ass. Plenty of white men have some serious back.”
“Amen,” Barbie whispered. She waved at Mike.
Mike waved back.
“Then this hoochie,” Lauren said. “No offense, Barbie.”
“None taken, Lauren,” Barbie said. “I know I’m not a hoochie.”
“Then this hoochie says that all white men have wet skin that smells like onions,” Lauren said. “They all eat food that falls on the floor, they all wear condoms, they all like to go down on a woman, and they often like to hang out in the meat section of the grocery store. Stop me if you don’t hear a stereotype.”
“I’m not going to argue about this with you, all right?” Randy said. “Sometimes there are stereotypes in comedy. In fact, stereotypes form the basis of most comedy. So what if there are a few stereotypes in this scene?”
“The entire scene is based on two ridiculous stereotypes, Randy,” Lauren said. “The first is, ‘Once you’ve had black, you’ll never go back.’ It’s as dumb as ‘Once you’ve had white, you’ll never be right.’ These sayings are foolish rhymes made up by foolish people who think they can fool the world into believing their foolishness. These are false statements. Folks are folks, man. There are no gray areas about this. We’re not airing this show in the fifties. The world has moved on, and the writer needs to move on with it. How old is she?”
“That’s irrelevant,” Randy said.
“She’s old,” Lauren said.
“Yep,” Barbie said. “She probably marched with Dr. King.”
“Or Marcus Garvey,” Lauren said.
“Or Frederick Douglass,” Barbie added with a giggle.
“I still don’t see what’s so stereotypical,” Randy said. “Isn’t there some truth to it?”
“No,” Lauren said. “And there’s nothing true about ‘The blacker the berry, the sweeter the juice,’ either.”
“Well, in my case,” Barbie said, “that is true. I am very sweet.”
“I’m sure you are, Barbie, but that’s only in her case, Randy,” Lauren said. “I can name black women out there whose juices are not and may never have been sweet.” Including my mama.
“If they’re even juicy anymore,” Barbie said.
“The writer is black, Lauren,” Randy said.
“That doesn’t absolve her from being a fool,” Lauren said.
“Or from being ignorant,” Barbie added.
“That, too,” Lauren said.
“She’s not a fool,” Randy said. “This is a good script.”
I’m tired of arguing with him. “May I make a suggestion?”
“That’s all you’re making today, Lauren,” Randy said.
“Film us going through the first scene the way we’ve been doing it,” Lauren said, “and not only show the execs what we end up with, but show the writer as well. Maybe she’ll wise up and start writing a show for the twenty-first century for a change.”
Randy walked away, shaking his head and parting several sound technicians, until he disappeared from view.
“He’s pissed,” Barbie whispered.
“Yep,” Lauren said. “But so what? He has to know he has a lame script on
his hands, and no amount of camping it up is going to save it.”
“What do we do?” Barbie asked.
“We wait,” Lauren said. “We’re still on the clock, right?”
“Right,” Barbie said. She pulled out a cell phone and began playing a game. “This is so addictive.”
Lauren took out her own phone to get online to check her e-mail. No signal! She tried to find a Wi-Fi hotspot and couldn’t. Tumbleweed is so cheap. This will, however, keep actors from doing exactly what I’m trying to do when they should be working.
A few minutes later Randy returned with an elderly light-skinned black woman who wore a frumpy yellow fisherman’s hat, blue rayon slacks, and a bright orange sweater.
What shipwreck did they pull her from? Lauren wondered. She could have been on Gilligan’s Island! Does she own a mirror? Did wardrobe do this to her?
“This is Annie Smith,” Randy said, “And she is the writer. Lauren, go ahead. Tell her what you told me.”
Lauren shrugged, and for the next fifteen minutes, she raked the woman’s script over the coals, reiterating the falseness of her stereotypes and giving examples of “rearranged” lines.
“If we tone down everything that’s currently way over the top,” Lauren concluded, “we can make this into a decent show we can all be proud of.”
The woman turned to Randy. “You told me it was a good script.”
“It is a good script,” Randy said. “It only needs a few minor adjustments.”
“But she just said it needed major adjustments,” Miss Smith said. “I didn’t think the truth needed to be adjusted.”
“Miss Smith,” Lauren said, “please don’t tell me you based this script on actual events in your life.”
Miss Smith straightened. “I did. It’s all true.”
“When?” Barbie asked.
She beat me to it again! Lauren thought. I am getting old.
“I was much younger then, of course,” Miss Smith said, “but every bit of this script is true.”
She seems sincere, Lauren thought. Maybe it’s all true—just not in this century. “Well, I suppose I could dress up like Thelma from Good Times and we could have a funk soundtrack.”
“I get to play Penny, then,” Barbie said.
“This is not going to be another seventies show,” Randy said.
