OTTO (Offering): Oreo?
SERGE: NO!!
OTTO (Coy): They’re double stuff. (He drinks a Yoohoo)
SERGE: WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU!!? I thought this was over! I’ve held my breath! I’ve prayed! I’ve done good deeds! BUT NOTHING WORKED! YOU’RE BACK! I don’t want to hurt you, but I need my peace! YOU HAVE GOT TO GET OVER ME! I’m no great catch to begin with, as you constantly remind me, while groveling, sniveling and begging me to take you back! TAKE YOU BACK!!? WE DATED BRIEFLY!!
OTTO: Finished? (He drinks a second Yoohoo)
SERGE: NO I AM NOT FINISHED!!! I don’t know what to do—tell me what to do. I know you have needs. I know you have problems, you have obvious problems! But this is not fair! I HAVE NEEDS AND PROBLEMS TOO! THIS ISN’T FAIR! DO YOU HEAR ME? THIS JUST IS NOT FAIR!!
(A long pause.)
OTTO (Very small): I don’t see what you’re so worked up about. I just dropped by. I brought some doughnuts. That’s all.
(The phone rings.)
SERGE: ANSWER IT!
OTTO: Excuse me. (Into the phone) Hello?. . . Oh, hello. . . . No, we are NOT back together yet!! . . . Yes, I understand that I’m a heap of human debris, that I’m not getting any younger and that everything I touch turns to shit! . . . Well, if that’s what you want, I can’t stop you from killing yourself. . . . No, I don’t care that you’ve taken forty-five sleeping pills!! . . . If you want to die, it’s your prerogative! . . . No, I’m not calling 911 for you!! . . . I DON’T CARE! . . . THEN JUST DIE! DIE! DIE AND LEAVE ME ALONE! I CAN’T GO ON LIKE THIS! (He slams the phone down) It was my analyst.
SERGE: What?
OTTO: I’m sorry if I intruded. You keep telling me to get on with my life. For years now, you’ve been telling me that. “Get on with your life.” . . . But you are my life.
SERGE: Don’t be pathetic.
OTTO: If it’s pathetic, it’s pathetic. If it’s sick or sad or whatever it is—it is the way it is. I love you. And you will love me again. Someday . . . or you won’t. But I don’t intend to give up trying. I see no advantage in surrender.
SERGE (After a moment): You keep telling me, I’ll love you again. But I never loved you.
OTTO: What?
SERGE: But I am in love. Now. For the first time. Do you understand me? He’s on his way over here right now. He went to get his things and he’s coming here, to live. So you simply have to go.
(Sadly, Otto rises. The phone rings. Otto looks at Serge, who gestures that Otto should answer it.)
OTTO (Into the phone): Hello? . . . It’s for you.
SERGE (Taking the phone): Hello? . . . Oh. . . . I see . . . well, but . . . but . . . (He hangs up the phone) He’s not coming.
OTTO (Simply): Oh. (Pause, then with great cheer) So? Can I stay?
(Blackout.)
SCENE 3
FATTY & SKINNY LAY IN BED . . .
The lights come up on the Dolor living room. It is morning, perhaps we hear the sounds of birds. The doorbell rings. After a moment, the person on the other side begins pounding on the door, rather violently. Finally, Amanda enters, wearing a shorty nightgown.
AMANDA: Coming!
(She goes to the door and opens it, revealing Serge.)
Can I help you?
SERGE: Is this Ford Dolor’s apartment?
AMANDA: Why do you ask?
SERGE: It is, isn’t it?
AMANDA: It’s nine in the morning.
SERGE: May I come in?
AMANDA: No!
(Serge pushes past her. She follows.)
SERGE: Where is he?
AMANDA: Ford’s asleep. What is this about?
SERGE: I’d like to speak to Ford, please.
AMANDA: Well, I’m not going to wake him. Who are you?!
SERGE: My name is Serge. Who are you?
AMANDA: I’m Amanda. I’m Ford’s wife. Now, please leave.
SERGE: Not until I speak to Ford.
AMANDA: I’ve asked you to leave. I’d appreciate it if you’d just—
SERGE: I’m in love with your husband.
AMANDA (Stunned): What?
SERGE: I think. If he’s in love with me, that is. If not then I’m not. I’m not putting myself in that position.
AMANDA: You’re . . .?
SERGE: I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to blurt it out like that. I have no intention of hurting you. I have no interest in you. I didn’t even make a mental note of your name.
AMANDA: It’s Amanda.
SERGE: Would you do me a favor and get Ford? Tell him I’m here.
AMANDA: You’re a man.
SERGE: Yes, I know that. I’m aware of that.
AMANDA: You’re saying Ford is—
SERGE: My lover. Ford is my lover.
AMANDA (Stricken): I see.
SERGE: He never mentioned he was married.
AMANDA: He didn’t?
SERGE: How long have you been together?
AMANDA: Oh a long time. Several years.
SERGE: Well, he doesn’t talk much.
AMANDA: Yes, I know.
SERGE: He’s pretty quiet.
AMANDA: He never mentioned you, either.
SERGE: I really didn’t come here to upset you. I came to see Ford. I want to find out where we stand. I have plans to make, things to do. I have an appointment at the tanning salon at ten and I intend to know what’s going—
AMANDA: How long have you known my husband, Mr.—?
SERGE: Serge, please.
AMANDA: How long, Serge?
SERGE: We met two weeks ago.
AMANDA: I see. And at what sordid, little social club was this?
SERGE: Bloomingdale’s.
AMANDA: Typical.
SERGE: I’m a model. Maybe you recognize me?
AMANDA: I’m afraid not.
SERGE: Well, I don’t do much print work.
AMANDA: That is too bad.
SERGE: I was at Bloomingdale’s for the fall promotions of the new Calvin Klein underwear. Ford was shopping. He remarked on the cut of my briefs and one thing led to another. We went back to my place, and I found that I could open up to him. I could really talk to him in a way I can’t talk to a lot of people. You know most people look at me and they just see someone who’s unusually attractive. Then
