Etiquette and Vitriol by Nicky Silver (classic fiction .txt) 📗

they find out that I’m a model, and they assume that I’m an idiot! You know, I think that’s a form of prejudice! Wouldn’t you say so?

AMANDA: I don’t know. I don’t know and I don’t care.

SERGE: Well, we went back to my place. We were talking and listening to some old Donna Summer tapes. And then, we didn’t even discuss it—before we knew what was happening we were fucking and sucking and going like rabid dogs in the summer sun, right there in the window!

AMANDA: Oh my God.

SERGE: I know. It’s pretty undignified, huh?

AMANDA: Oh my God.

SERGE: But when you connect, you connect.

AMANDA: I feel sick.

SERGE: Oh, we were safe. Not to worry. I consider myself extremely responsible.

AMANDA (Weakly): Good.

SERGE: And that was it. We spent the next fourteen days together.

AMANDA: Did you?

SERGE: In bed, on the floor, in the tub, on the roof—

AMANDA: The roof?

SERGE: We only stopped for salt tablets! I was seeing someone else, this guy, Roger—and he had heart surgery last week, but I’ll be honest with you. Ford made me forget all about Roger. I mean, I forgot to send flowers or call the hospital or anything. I wonder if he lived. Can I use your phone?

AMANDA: No.

SERGE: Oh well. It doesn’t matter. I never really cared for Roger. He was wild about me but he talked nonstop! I couldn’t get a word in edgewise. With Ford, it was different. We have something very, very unique—

AMANDA: You can’t qualify unique. It either is, or it isn’t.

SERGE: What?

AMANDA: Skip it.

SERGE: That’s why I don’t understand! This might come as a surprise, but Ford was planning on moving in with me. He left my place last night at about twelve and said he’d be back in a couple of hours with his stuff.

AMANDA: He was going to—

SERGE: Then he calls at two in the morning, and no explanation! No excuse! No nothing! Just “I’m not coming.” Well I’m not used to this! I’m not used to being treated like a piece of gum stuck under a chair! I want to see him. Now!

(Amanda blocks the hallway.)

AMANDA: Too bad.

SERGE: I’ll wait.

AMANDA: Just go!

SERGE: Tell me, did he say anything? Did he talk about me? Did you discuss it? Was it me? Was I suffocating? Is that it? I thought he liked being suffocated! He liked the paddle! He liked the whip! He liked the cat-o’-nine-tails! He even liked the candle wax!

AMANDA: STOP IT! STOP IT! STOP IT!

SERGE: He told me we had something special! He told me that he loved me!!

AMANDA (Bitter): When was that?

SERGE: Over and over!

AMANDA: Oh?

SERGE: If not in so many words—

AMANDA: Well, Mr.—Serge, he told me he loved me over and over, last night, IN so many words!

SERGE (Mock casual): Really?

AMANDA: YES! Because Ford and I are MARRIED and we DO love each other! So whatever sick, twisted hold you’ve had on my husband is broken! He clearly regrets having met you and has decided to stay HERE, with ME, his WIFE!

SERGE: You think so?

AMANDA: Did he return to you last night? No. He was in bed with me last night! And that’s exactly where he intends to stay!

SERGE: I’d like him to tell me that.

AMANDA: It’s over! Why don’t you simply leave? Go. Go and get yourself a tan. If you leave now, there’ll be no ugly scenes of recrimination.

SERGE (Feigning shock): Maybe I—do you have a glass of water?

AMANDA: No.

SERGE: Please. I’m not used to this. I’m strikingly attractive and this comes as quite a blow.

AMANDA: Drink it. Then leave.

(Exasperated, Amanda fetches Serge a drink. He takes the moment to head toward the bedroom. Just as he gets there, Otto appears at the door, which had been left ajar, carrying a bag of groceries and pointing a gun at his temple.)

OTTO: THE WORLD IS A RANCID CESSPOOL AND I CAN TAKE IT NO LONGER!!

SERGE (Turning): Otto!?

OTTO: LET MY DEATH BE ON YOUR HEAD, SERGE STUBIN! LET YOUR DREAMS BE FILLED WITH VISIONS OF MY BLOODY SKULL!

SERGE: What are you doing here!?

OTTO (Entering): I followed you.

(Amanda enters and hands Serge a glass of water.)

SERGE: Oh dear God.

OTTO: When you threw me out last night, I slept in the garbage can outside your building. I ate orange rinds and an old shoe for breakfast—all right, all right I went home and had bacon and a dozen eggs—but I was up at seven a.m. and perched outside your house! I followed you! I’d’ve been here sooner, but that pig at the gun store refused to cash my check! A clear case of anti-Semitism! I haven’t been to sleep, but then I never sleep. I haven’t slept in years!

(He falls to his knees) Do you think you could love me again if I got a good night’s sleep? Do you?—Don’t answer! I know what you’re going to say. You’re going to say “No.” That’s all you ever say: No, no, no, no, no. You are positively monosyllabic! You should buy a word-a-day calendar to build your vocabulary—I tossed and turned all night long and I have decided that life is simply not worth living WHILE YOU LOVE SOMEONE ELSE!—It’s unbelievably hot in here! Is anyone else hot? It’s like a sauna. I’m waiting for the boy to come around with the cold-water hose for my wrists and temples, for God’s sake!

AMANDA: Do you know this person?

SERGE: No. No, I don’t. We’ve never met. Call the police.

OTTO: I am Otto Woodnick!

AMANDA: You’re not!?

SERGE: He is.

OTTO: I am!

AMANDA: Otto! It’s me! Betty Pemberton! I was in your homeroom class in New Rochelle High!

OTTO: Betty?!

AMANDA: Amanda now. Amanda Dolor!

OTTO: You were so fat!

AMANDA: You were so thin!

OTTO and AMANDA: What happened to you!!?

(Otto and Amanda embrace. Serge watches this. As they are embraced, Ford staggers groggily into the room. He sees the scene, has no apparent reaction, turns and exits, unnoticed.)

OTTO: You look fantastic!

AMANDA: I’ve lost some weight. That’s all.

OTTO: I heard about your mother.

AMANDA: Oh yes.

OTTO: I’m so sorry.

AMANDA: Oh don’t be, please. My mother was a