JOE: Look, I know this is scary for you. But try to understand what it means to me. Will you try?
HARPER: Yes.
JOE: Good. Really try.
I think things are starting to change in the world.
HARPER: But I don’t want—
JOE: Wait. For the good. Change for the good. America has rediscovered itself. Its sacred position among nations. And people aren’t ashamed of that like they used to be. This is a great thing. The truth restored. Law restored. That’s what President Reagan’s done, Harper. He says: “Truth exists and can be spoken proudly.” And the country responds to him. We become better. More good. I need to be a part of that, I need something big to lift me up. I mean, six years ago the world seemed in decline, horrible, hopeless, full of unsolvable problems and crime and confusion and hunger and—
HARPER: But it still seems that way. More now than before. They say the ozone layer is—
JOE: Harper . . .
HARPER: And today out the window on Atlantic Avenue there was a schizophrenic traffic cop who was making these—
JOE: Stop it! I’m trying to make a point.
HARPER: So am I.
JOE: You aren’t even making sense, you—
HARPER: My point is the world seems just as—
JOE: It only seems that way to you because you never go out in the world, Harper, and you have emotional problems.
HARPER: I do so get out in the world.
JOE: You don’t. You stay in all day, fretting about imaginary—
HARPER: I get out. I do. You don’t know what I do.
JOE: You don’t stay in all day.
HARPER: No.
JOE: Well . . . Yes you do.
HARPER: That’s what you think.
JOE: Where do you go?
HARPER: Where do you go? When you walk.
(Pause, then very angry) And I DO NOT have emotional problems.
JOE: I’m sorry.
HARPER: And if I do have emotional problems it’s from living with you. Or—
JOE: I’m sorry, buddy, I didn’t mean to—
HARPER: Or if you do think I do then you should never have married me. You have all these secrets and lies.
JOE: I want to be married to you, Harper.
HARPER: You shouldn’t. You never should.
(Pause)
Hey, buddy. Hey, buddy.
JOE: Buddy kiss.
(They kiss.)
HARPER: I heard on the radio how to give a blowjob.
JOE: What?
HARPER: You want to try?
JOE: You really shouldn’t listen to stuff like that.
HARPER: Mormons can give blowjobs.
JOE: Harper.
HARPER (Imitating his tone): Joe.
It was a little Jewish lady with a German accent. This is a good time. For me to make a baby.
(Little pause. Joe turns away from her, then leaves the living room.)
HARPER: Then they went on to a program about holes in the ozone layer. Over Antarctica. Skin burns, birds go blind, icebergs melt. The world’s coming to an end.
Scene 6
First week of November. In the men’s room of the offices of the Brooklyn Federal Court of Appeals. Louis is crying over the sink; Joe enters.
JOE: Oh, um . . . Morning.
LOUIS: Good morning, Counselor.
JOE (He watches Louis cry): Sorry, I . . . I don’t know your name.
LOUIS: Don’t bother. Word processor. The lowest of the low.
JOE (Holding out his hand): Joe Pitt. I’m with Justice Wilson.
LOUIS: Oh, I know that. Counselor Pitt. Chief Clerk.
JOE: Were you . . . Are you OK?
LOUIS: Oh, yeah. Thanks. What a nice man.
JOE: Not so nice.
LOUIS: What?
JOE: Not so nice. Nothing. You sure you’re—
LOUIS: Life sucks shit. Life . . . just sucks shit.
JOE: What’s wrong?
LOUIS: Run in my nylons.
JOE: Sorry . . .?
LOUIS: Forget it. Look, thanks for asking.
JOE: Well . . .
LOUIS: I mean it really is nice of you.
(He starts crying again)
Sorry, sorry. Sick friend . . .
JOE: Oh, I’m sorry.
LOUIS: Yeah, yeah, well, that’s sweet.
Three of your colleagues have preceded you to this baleful sight and you’re the first one to ask. The others just opened the door, saw me, and fled. I hope they had to pee real bad.
JOE (Handing him a wad of toilet paper): They just didn’t want to intrude.
LOUIS: Hah. Reaganite heartless macho asshole lawyers.
JOE: Oh, that’s unfair.
LOUIS: What is? Heartless? Macho? Reaganite? Lawyer?
JOE: I voted for Reagan.
LOUIS: You did?
JOE: Twice.
LOUIS: Twice? Well, oh boy. A Gay Republican.
JOE: Excuse me?
LOUIS: Nothing.
JOE: I’m not—
Forget it.
LOUIS: Republican? Not Republican? Or . . .
JOE: What?
LOUIS: What?
JOE: Not gay. I’m not gay.
LOUIS: Oh. Sorry.
(Blows his nose loudly) It’s just—
JOE: Yes?
LOUIS: Well, sometimes you can tell from the way a person sounds, that—I mean you sound like a—
JOE: No I don’t.
Like what?
LOUIS: Like a Republican.
(Little pause. Joe knows he’s being teased; Louis knows he knows. Joe decides to be a little brave.)
JOE: Do I? Sound like a . . .?
LOUIS: What? Like a . . .? Republican, or . . .?
Do I?
JOE: Do you what?
LOUIS: Sound like a . . .?
JOE: Like a . . .?
I’m . . . confused.
LOUIS: Yes.
My name is Louis. But all my friends call me Louise. I work in Word Processing. Thanks for the toilet paper.