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Pleasant
restaurant somewhere in the heart of London. Sun shines outside,
but the spacious, meticulously clean room, almost empty in
this
early afternoon time, offers a welcome shade. Occassional waitress
floats here and there, quiet, unobtrusive music fills the air. One of
the tables near the wall is occupied by two people. The table is small,
discreetly placed in a distance from others, the sofa next to it
obviously intended for two. And it’s occupied by two
–
predictably, a man and a woman. In the midst of the table, a vase with
fresh exotic flowers stands, surrounded by several almost empty
glasses. Several fags and smears of ash mar the whiteness of the table
cloth. Next to the vase, in a safe distance from the fags, a tiny black
electronic object lies. A closer look reveals a dictaphone.
A temporary silence seems to have fallen over the table. Shane taps his
thick fingers on his glass, mechanically. Vicky plays with an exotic
flower, thoughtfully.
Suddenly, a third figure blocks the view. He stops, looks around, and
then determinedly heads towards the table. Several feet from it, he
stops again, then changes direction, walks over to the closest empty
table and gets hold of a chair. He pulls it to his original destination
and sits down.
V: Oh, Joey!!! Look, Shane. I was going to tell you... well.. I mean...
I should have said it years ago maybe but... OK. I think you should
know... maybe you guessed already... erm... I... I love Joey...
S: I am with you, Vicky!
(Joey half-rises,
discomposedly.)
J: Shane!! Do not listen to her!! What the fuck, Vicky?! I swear Shane!
I... never...!!! (He
falls back, despondently.)
Honestly, Shane! I would not dare... With best friend! I mean with
missus of best friend!! NO! I would not even dream about it! Shane!
Shane...
V: Shut up, please! And you listen to me, sweat pea, please,
don’t misunderstand me! Yes, there was Van, there was Ronnie,
there was Christy, there was... uhm, never mind, but with Joey it
always was purely platonic!
J: Nah! Shane!! I swear I didn't take part in it!! I do not know what
that platonic shite is about!
(Vicky begins to
sob.)
S: What you have done to her, Joey! Vicky calm down! What the fuck,
Joey!! Look! Vicky, please... don't pay attention to the fucker...
J: Erm... I... Shane... I... didn't mean it. I didn't mean anything.
But... honestly Shane! I do not know what she is talking about! What
love? I do not ...
S: You do not love her?!
(Vicky begins to cry.) She is not good enough for you (Vicky begins to howl.),
you bastard?!!!
J: No, Shane, no!! I mean... She is... She is OK...
(Vicky becomes a
bit quieter not to miss a word, but Shane's roar covers everything.)
S: "OK"?! OK for what?!
J: For everything!!!
(Shane's face
changes.)
J: Nothing!! I mean... She is great!! Yeah, really, she is so great and
beautiful and things! She is a queen! A real girlfriend for a real
star!! I mean... punk legend!! For a punk legend!!!
V: Yes, you are a punk legend, Joey! The man who introduced sax to
punk! Real innovator!
J: She is so gorgeous! It's not for me. Yes! That's what I meant! I
would never dare! I would never even dream about having something with
her... I mean doing... You know Shane...
S: YES! I know! It's not necessary to let us into your dirty fantasies,
bastard!!
J: Shane, I swear!...
S: Shut up! You drove a lady into tears!!
(Vicky begins to
sob again, enthusiastically.)
J: I would never... ever... do ... IT...
(Vicky bursts into
tears, desperately.)
V: Joey....
V: How you could...
S & J: What he/I could?
J: I DID NOTHING!!!
S: WHY?!
J (absolutely
disappointed and confused): I... I do not know...
S (with evil joy):
As always. What do you know at all. There was nobody around to teach
you? Should we help you, Joey boy?
(Joey has got lost
completely. He looks at Shane, at Vicky, at Shane
again. He'd like to disappear right now but does not know how to do it
imperceptibly. Vicky who started all this decides to help him.)
V: Shane, it's OK, leave him alone. He is a nice guy after all.
S: Aha, nice guy who hates you!
J: Shane, I don't...
V: He doesn't hate me!! WE...
(Joey gets pale.)
S: He admitted it just seconds ago, here in front of both of us!!
V: NO! He does not. I know! We just...
(Joey gets even
paler.)
V: We just misunderstood him! You did, Shane! I’ve always
known he is a nice guy. He is just... shy and...
S: Aha, look at this nice guy - freaky junky...
J (coughs):
Do you mind, guys, that I am here...
S: Fuck off, nobody is fucking talking to you, bastard. Look at that
old nasty wreck, Vicky.
V: Shane! He is always so friendly and helpful!
J: Look at yourself, fucker! I can still light a fag at least.
S: You can't get your own girlfriend, just mess around and hook others'
up, you loser!!!
(Shane fumbles in
his pocket for a fag. Vicky blushes and bites her lower lip.)
J: I am not fucking hen-pecked!!
S: Where is the bloody lighter?!
J (lighting his fag):
I can have loads of them!
S (inhaling deeply):
Shut up, Joey, who cares, you've mounted you hobby-horse and nothing
will rid us of obtrusive details, huh?
J: I’ve just told you...
S: I know, I heard it shiteloads of time... ladies' man. Krshhhhhhhhhh.
"I can..." "I have..." And only fuck hookers in dark alleys.
J (with a wide smile):
Why do you call your sweet groupies "hookers", Shane? Do they ask you
for money?!
(Vicky gets
interested.)
S: You would not get a tiny piece of the skinniest arse, Joey, if you
weren't with me!
V: You fucking pimp!! <bang>
(Vicky’s
bag lands on Shane’s head.)
S (trying to cover
himself with arms): Joey! What the fuck! Why do you do it!
I've fucking asked you thousand times!!!
J: Stop, Vicky! Please! Stop!! We were just kidding!! You know... it's
kinda jokes... we always do it this way! I mean we were just pecking!!!
Stop it!!
(Joey has to hug
her firmly to pull her off Shane, carefully. Vicky lets him sit her
back on the soft sofa, respectfully.)
S: Give me another fag, Joey! (after
trying to pick up the old one from the floor where it dropped after
first Vicky's blow)
(Vicky dusts off
her bag, meticulously, and sips her drink, neatly. Joey lights the fag,
obediently.)
S (inhaling, with his
eyes closed, tiredly): Helpful, you said... (letting smoke out and watching
crooked quasi rings) So what did he
help you with?
(Shane stares at
Vicky, unexpectedly.)
(Joey begins to
fidget, jitterily.)
Vicky (sipping her
drink): Well, he is a nice guy...
S: We've heard it, right, Joey?
(Joey swallows and
nods.)
J: I'll go and buy me a drink. Anybody wants anything?
S: Do not bother , Joey, here's a waitress. Nice looking one, by the
way...
(Joey smiles
nervously and lookes at Vicky instead of the
approaching waitress. For
some reason...)
S: Sit fucking down, Joey! Do not tower over me!!
(Joey sits down
and the displeasure on his face slowly turns into the
usual charming smile as soon as the waitress’s decolletage
freezes over him in expectation of orders...)
J: Anybody wants anything? (Repeats
the question, looking at the nice
– Shane was right – young girl. As nobody says
anything
– the nice young girl included – Joey announces
with
pathos:) Tripple vodka and grapefruit juice, please!
(As the waitress
writes the order down, Joey looks with hesitation
either at her moving hand or at her waving breasts, but adds nothing
and the girl peacefully fucks off to the bar. He follows her with his
eyes and then sighs; it is obvious that he'd rather have left with her
than stayed at the table with his long term friend and the most
beautiful lady in the room.)
S: So what did you help Vicky with, you nice guy Joey?
J: Come on , Shane! I did nothing! I told you!
V: He can listen, Shane! And understand!
S: Your specialty, Joey?
J: What's wrong, Shane? Isn't it normal...
S: To charm your hostess, woman of your friend?
J: I did nothing!
S: So Vicky lies?
J: No, but I did nothing special, is being friendly to an aggrieved and
depressed friend's girl a crime?!
S: So he was caring, solicitous, clasped you to his bosom and dried
your tears with his kisses?
V: With clean handkerchiefs!
(Joey chuckles.)
(Shane casts a
severe glance at him but joins chuckling.)
V: No! He was sitting there, polishing his whistle...
S: Krshhhhhhh.
V: He listened to me!!
(Another
„krshhhhhhh“ from Shane.)
V: And then he brought a bottle and a glass.
S: One glass?
J: When she took it, I didn't mind, I can drink from the bottle, you
know...
V: You washed it for me!
J: No-one would drink from a glass full of fags...
V: He listened...
S: And?
V: ... and never ever fucking interrupted me!!! (a fierce glance at Shane)
He stayed up with me till morning!
J: Shane! The TV in my room was been broken!!
(Shane nods
because he knows about the TV – it was him who
broke it. He dropped a pack of stuff inside and tried to extract it
out.)
V: And when I fell asleep, he covered me with your coat!
J: I was looking for another fag pack, the coat lied on the floor so I
just threw it on the sofa!
V: And then he gently kissed me on my forehead...
J: I stumbled over a pile of books and CDs on the floor!
V (turning to Joey):
And you helped me to get out of the bathroom when the lock got jammed!
J: I didn't know it was jammed and somebody in... I just pulled the
fucking door! And when you fell into my fucking arms, should have I
dropped you on the floor?
Waitress: Your vodka, sir!!
J: Thanks! You see, Shane! I did nothing!!
(Joey gulps down
half of the drink. Shane takes the glass and spills
half of the the remaining contents on his shirt while gulping.)
V: Once he switched the TV when there was a horror and I froze and
could not move...
J: Sorry it was time for my favourite show.
V: And Joey, I saw you when you leafed through my yoga books!
J: I had put some money in one of them.
V: Oh, so it was your money?! I thought it was a present from Shane...
S: Krshhhhhhhhh.
V: You also asked me about the currently fashionable colour of
stockings!
J: Shane asked me to buy a present...
(Shane makes
really dreadful eyes.)
J: ... for you!!
(Shane steps on
Joey’s foot.)
J (screaming):
... but I failed...
(V. grabs the
whiskey glass and finishes the last drops at the bottom.)
S: You got that lovely dress instead!
(Shane and Joey
reach for the empty glass simultaneously.)
V (turning to Joey
again): And you idled around, sighing and looking at me!
J: Shane expropriated my collection of magazines!
V: What fucking magazines?!
S & J (exchanging
a looks, together): Saxophone Journal!
V: Shane?
S: I needed it when bed's leg got broken! I gave it back later!
J: Where is N. 2 from 1998 and N.8 from 2001?
S: Again? Not now OK?
V: And he invited me to have a drink at backstage bar...
J: Shane, it's...
S: I know! Passed.
V: What?
J: Shane was tired and he wanted to rest... on his own...
S: I didn't want to worry you...
V: And you held my hand...
J: How else could I be sure she wouldn't leave unexpectedly?!
V: And...
S: OK, enough! I got it... So you didn't help Vicky, Joey?
J: No! I
tell, you, Shane!!
S: But if she had asked you?
J: For what, Shane?
S: Shite, Joey! Do not play a stupid fool, would you help her if she
asked you?
J: Erm... It depends, Shane... If I was not tired, or busy or...
S: It would stop you from helping my missus?!
J: I'd think, Shane... If it was really urgent and if you didn't
mind... I would!!
(A short pause.)
J: ... a bit...
S: You see, Vicky! What a nice guy Joey!!
Silence
falls over the table again, but a relaxed kind of silence, not an
oppresive one. Looks like peace was given a chance. Vicky, pretending
that she wants to smell the flowers, bends over the table and checks
the dictaphone. A hint of paleness creeps into her rosy cheeks. Oh, no.
The tiny red light is not blinking. The thing hasn’t been
switched on at all. She sighs, heavily. Looks around the table,
disconsolately, but sees that neither Shane, nor Joey are paying
attention. She picks up the dictapnone and slips it into her bag,
stealthily. And she makes a mental note about trying to arrange an
evening in two with Joey, shortly.
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