Jessica Goldberg: The NYC Writer
Come to the New York City Acid Test
Turn of the Century
The alley was dark and the alley was narrow. It was lined with trash (in hemp sacks, in glad bags) and in scattered stacks. It all gathered up around the shadowy, sunken doorways that alleys have; the doorways where you don't know how deep the openings go back. The alley walls were (granite, concrete) bricks, stacked high. They closed in on Lisha from the top.
"That hidden figure crouching a yard ahead of me is an overstuffed bag of shit and melon rinds," she told herself. And so was the mound she was passing now. No fear from a big, rotting box filled with shredded documents and old Chinese food and stuff that would give her diseases if she let it touch her. Same as any other sack of trash in the daytime, instead of in a dark, narrow alley that stretched on with no light to mark the other end.
"And that there is (a lead dustbin, an aluminum trash can) with the lid knocked off," Lisha thought. She was so absorbed in categorizing shit in an alley and keeping her imagination under control, she though "That's not a garbage sack, it's someone snaking out and grabbing me," when someone did. "He's grabbing my face and his hand stinks and he's hurting meeee-"
"EEEEEgmompf..." was all she said out loud. Then his hand was over her mouth, and screaming was more effort than it was worth in her beloved town without pity, but Lisha was afraid to bite him, hoping to god he didn't have (malaria, AIDS). One finger was mostly in her mouth too; Lisha was gagging on her tongue, trying not to taste it. If she didn't do something soon, he was gonna realize and tear her cheek off. She stomped down and back, as hard as she could on something that didn't give much.
Her attacker let loose a short sort of phlegmy shriek. To her astonishment and horror, Lisha realized it was a woman who had her, and she did start pulling on her face; Lisha could feel the skin stretching and start to tear at the corner of her mouth. More fingers (she thought they were fingers) blocked Lisha’s nose, pushed her tongue back in her mouth, against her windpipe.
Why was this forgotten, angry woman, stinking of shit and urine, with an alley to sleep in and trash piles to eat from, not small and strength-deserted from (all opium, all crack) and no food, but instead a heavy, violent woman suffocating her wordlessly? Lisha had better try biting her, cause she really was strangling-
Lisha was starting to see colors; patches of red against the dark walls, and this all took an instant, rushing through her head before she stopped thinking abstractly and really panicked, flailing her limbs and expelling the rest of her air trying to scream.
Lisha’s last rational act was to fling herself backward instead of straining forward. The woman lost her hold on her right arm; her left still squashed between the two of them. They fell hard on concrete and garbage. Lisha made a fist and flailed behind her. Her breath came hardly at all, in gulps. The woman hit her back once, hard in the breast, and the red patches came back, white and silver around the edges, and exploding from little hot stars of pain.
Lisha couldn't catch her breath at all now. The woman's hand scraped down her face to her throat. She tried to block it with her chin, and then somehow, the woman had a thumb lodged next to her larynx. The blood expanded and flooded Lisha's eyes. Her arms were too heavy and hung still at her sides, as the woman got her other hand at her throat, as the red expanded to blot out her vision.
Her sense of smell went first. While there were still edges of dark alley against the red, Lisha could smell the woman's fingers choking, filthy on her neck and the bile trying to rise up past her own throat and then all of a sudden, Lisha couldn't smell it anymore.
Her hearing went next, the thrashing and heavy breathing fading out all in a second.
Not quite simultaneously, she realized she couldn't see anything. The worst was that moment: still conscious, but senseless. She couldn't perceive the alley, but it hadn't gone away.
The last thing Lisha felt, as consciousness escaped, was a soft thump, like heavy wings or tail, and a second set of fingers negotiating delicately at her neck.
Copyright 1999, by Jessica Goldberg
LEMMINGS
INT: DESERTED LAUNDROMAT. O/C, we hear thunder and rain.
Wide Angle view of a row of clothes dryers. Slow zoom to the center dryer, where the action will be. Enter RUTH, soaking wet. She wears a baseball jacket, sandals, T-SHIRT, and BLUE JEANS. RUTH takes off T-SHIRT, and BLUE JEANS, and leaves on the jacket and sandals, without revealing any ta-ta to the camera. RUTH throws T-SHIRT and BLUE JEANS in the center dryer. RUTH closes up the jacket, and wriggles her BRA out from under, again w/out showing any ta-ta. RUTH fishes around in the pockets of the jacket for quarters, which she starts the dryer with. As the dryer picks up speed, RUTH wanders O/C. Back-music, on top of the thunder & rain, is probably Flight of the Bumblebee
BRA
Whoa, whoaah, ahh!
BLUE JEANS
Huuuh, whoah, hup! Ho!
BRA
Ouch, ouch, ouch! Hurry!
T-SHIRT
Ohhhhh, ow!
BLUE JEANS
Hhnf! Ugh, watch how you land!
BRA
No time to worry about that -- Jesus! Just hurry up!
T-SHIRT
Ow, ow! Will you watch it? Ow! BLUE JEANS, you're pulverizing me!
BRA
Never mind that now, T-SHIRT, It'll all be worth it -- whoah, oof -- the sooner we get to DRY.
T-SHIRT
Ow! Ow! BLUE JEANS, -- ow! For fucksake, get off me!
BLUE JEANS
Uh -- stay outa the way then!
BRA
Not that I don't -- Ow! Ouch! -- sympathize with you, T-SHIRT, that denim brute keeps catching my hooks on his zipper -- Oh, uhnf! -- Watch it!
BLUE JEANS
Huh! Save your big, lace-cup, double crossing breath for staying out of the way -- Ugh -- and stop slowing us all down -- Oof, ow!
Note: All "Hurry Ow, Watch it," et. will be implied, but not written, from this point in the script. Actors can record dialogue while they are watching laundry, and improvise their interjections, with the rhythm of the dryer. Something like that.
BRA
Thus speaks the blue hypocrite. Hey T-SHIRT, try hugging the corners of the drum, as you drop around. BLUE JEANS can't reach there very well, so you'll miss the worst of the pummeling.
BLUE JEANS
Oh, of course, blame the BLUE JEANS! Now that we've found out whose FAULT everything is, we'll get out of our predicament, no sweat! Both of you can suck my snap.
BRA
You really can't see anybody's side of it, but your own, can you BLUE JEANS? You amaze me.
T-SHIRT
Guys, this is getting us nowhere. Just hang on, until we get to DRY, and we'll sort it all out from there.
CUT TO EXT: DRYER -- FRONT ENTRANCE OF LAUNDROMAT.
RUTH has met a WOMAN, and is chatting her up in the doorway. The WOMAN is laughing and smiling at RUTH.
CUT TO INT: DRYER.
T-SHIRT
Listen, I'm not a bad guy, I want to see you two work things out, I'm just asking that you put your personal shit aside, until we get there.
BRA AND BLUE JEANS
(At the same time)
Fine with me. I'm not the one with the problem.
T-SHIRT
Try not to say anything. let's concentrate on silence and speed -- and safety, BLUE JEANS.
BRA AND BLUE JEANS
(At the same time)
But she- But he-
T-SHIRT
don't say anything. Say nothing.
CUT TO EXT: DRYER -- FRONT ENTRANCE OF LAUNDROMAT.
RUTH and the WOMAN, have closed the gap between them. They are kissing, nuzzling, and smiling. The WOMAN reaches beneath RUTHÆS baseball jacket, and put her hands on RUTHÆS hips, once more without revealing any of RUTHÆS ta-tas!
CUT TO INT: DRYER. Door opens. Dryer drum slows. The CLOTHES all start to fall. They react with lurching sounds, exclamations of pain, et. We see RUTHÆS hand tossing her PANTIES into the dryer, then the door slams shut again.
PANTIES
Oof!
BLUE JEANS
PANTIES! I thought we'd lost you!
BRA
So did I.
T-SHIRT
Hey PANTIES, good to have you back, you all right?
PANTIES
Hi T-SHIRT, hi BLUE JEANS. Yup, I'm fine, You're not getting rid of me that easily.
T-SHIRT
Great, then let's pick up the pace.
PANTIES
don't let me slow you down, fruit of the loom, I'll keep up with you all right. BLUE JEANS, hey, can I talk to you?
BRA
Hi, PANTIES, glad to see You're OK.
PANTIES
Ha! I'll bet you are! I'll bet You're ecstatic to see me back, but guess what, you black, nylon torture device, I'm back anyway. -- BLUE JEANS, please let me talk to you for a minute, I have to explain what I was doing with the TUBE TOP. we'd been on that closet floor together for a long time!
BRA
Ha! I knew it! The floozy cheated on you too! Good, it serves you so right!
PANTIES
BRA, if you could hear yourself, you'd get embarrassed, and shut the fuck up. BLUE JEANS? Can I talk to you?
BLUE JEANS
I guess.
PANTIES
Do you mind telling me what went on with you and the scarf, before she got caught in -- the washer rotator arm?
BRA
can't we just let the dead rest in peace? PANTIES, you never know when to let up, do you?
T-SHIRT
Quiet, BRA! SCARF was my friend. I want to hear this.
BLUE JEANS
No, I don't mind telling you PANTIES, and thank you someone, for finally asking. Nothing happened between us. We hardly knew each other, but we might have matched if we'd had the chance. There was something really comfortable about her. I think we might have really gone good together.
PANTIES
BRA, are you gonna stand for that?
BRA
T-SHIRT, I didn't know you were friends with SCARF. Did you ever go with the belt she used to hang out with before the Yard Sale of æ98?
BLUE JEANS
Hey, less lip, more leg.
T-SHIRT
Easy for BLUE JEANS to say. Listen, you denim menace, I'm not gonna warn you again, quit crushing me.
BRA
BLUE JEANS doesn't like to be reminded of the Yard Sale. We lost the entire population of phat pants; the ones who escaped being sold went in a cardboard box on the curb on the last night.
PANTIES
Yeah, well those went out over night. Happens. All the time. Tell the truth, I was glad to see that fashion go.
ALL
Yeah. Same here.
BRA
I was only saying that BLUE JEANS doesn't like to be reminded of the Yard Sale. We lost the entire population
T-SHIRT
BLUE JEANS, you rug-fucker, You're pummeling me on purpose!
BLUE JEANS
Whatchya gonna do thin weave?
T-SHIRT
Fucker, that's it, You're fried! Stretch my seams all you can right now. it's the last time You're gonna get a chance to do it.
BLUE JEANS
Time will come for your stitches and seams, you mammary marketing vehicle. you're littler than me. Law of the jungle. I'll spin out your torment wash cycle after dry cycle, after wear, after wash cycle. We have plenty of time to settle between the two of us before we get there.
PANTIES
BLUE JEANS? What, um, ohmigod! BLUE JEANS...
BRA
Oh no, BLUE JEANS!
PANTIES
Gotta, oh god hurry, gotta get away from him, hurry. Hurry!
BLUE JEANS
What!!!
BRA
You fucking dildo, you jerk! You brought this on yourself,
PANTIES
Gotta get away, hurry! Ah, ah!
BRA
T-SHIRT, you diabolical cunt! You Good Will piled the BLUE JEANS!
BLUE JEANS
What the fuck are you talking about? What could Lay-Flat-to-Dry ever do to me?
BRA
(Weeping) Oh, BLUE JEANS, BLUE JEANS!
BLUE JEANS
T-SHIRT, you twisted fuck, what have you done?
(Slow fade to color)
T-SHIRT
What am I doing, you mean? I am exercising the prerogative of every red T-shirt --
PANTIES
Ohmigod, my white elastic band!
T-SHIRT
I'm bleeding! And what happens when a little red dye gets into BLUE JEANS?
BRA
Oh my love, I've lost you.
PANTIES
Get out of my way, get away!
T-SHIRT
What happens to BLUE JEANS?
BLUE JEANS
We turn pink!
BRA
(Bawling.) AAAAH! AAAH!
PANTIES
(Pure terror.) AAAAAH!
BLUE JEANS and T-SHIRT
And what do butch lesbians do to pink jeans?
BLUE JEANS
Throw us out! I'll take you with me! AAAAAAH!
T-SHIRT
AAAAAAAH!
(Outside we see RUTH lying over the GIRL, who lies on her back on a clothes-folding table. The GIRL'S pants are down around her knees or ankles. The view implies that her bare-ass is on the table, but we can't ell, because RUTH'S hand and arm are in the way, as she appears to finger fuck the GIRL. Both women are getting extremely lucky.
RUTH
AAAAAAAH!
GIRL
AAAAAAAAH!
(Flash back to the dryer as the time readout flashes from one second, to off. All the CLOTHING basically stops screaming, one by one, as each comes to rest in the bottom of the dryer.
Flash to OS the dryer. RUTH'S face has just come to rest along side the GIRL'S.
Flash back once more to the completely still dryer. All is silent.
Flash to RUTH, who looks up a little at the dryer..
LAUNDROMAT GUY
(OC) Hey!
(Credits roll)
Copyright 1999, by Jessica Goldberg
Rebound Millenium
Justin waters Levi’s plant, and commiserates with Levi’s cat.
Levi’s gone to Amsterdam to see if Eben is having an affair with Nica, the seed-broker. Justin knows that Eben is gonna get caught, and Justin loves Levi.
Justin also knows, shit, this is a no-win. I already know this story, you’re broken hearted, and I can heal your heart, but I can’t have it; it’s not yours to give right now.
Still, Justin loves Levi. When he is awake at night he wonders what time it is in Amsterdam. When the phone rings he knows it will not be Levi. When it is Levi, Justin knows that Eben is gone with Levi’s heart in the side pocket on his carry on luggage; the one with the broken zipper.
"I tried calling you at your apartment," says Levi. Nothing in Levi’s life has stayed where he thought he put/left it.
"How are you?" asks Justin.
"I don’t know," says Levi.
"What are you going to do?" Justin asks.
"Buy the special at the Green House, and take it before I go over to the VanGogh Museum." says Levi. His tone reminds Justin of cotton balls.
Justin is frustrated and ashamed of the erection he feels in response to Levi’s weeping. The vulnerable offers and requests Levi begins making are the best things in Justin’s life, but they are not enough. If Justin explains this to Levi, it will only make them both feel worse.
"Call me when you decide what you’re going to do," shouts Justin, as the operator cuts them off.
Levi calls his apartment the next morning. Justin is skipping work today. He’s been letting the answering machine screen Levi’s calls; he doesn’t pick up ‘til he hears Levi’s voice.
"I found a cheap a flight to Morocco," Levi says. "I’ve never been to the desert."
"Give me the number and address of your hotel." Says Justin. He gets out some credit cards, makes some calls. It isn’t easy, although Justin had assumed that no one would want to be on a plane on New Years Eve.
Justin fills up the cat’s food and water bowls as high as they will go. He takes the toothbrush out of Levi’s bathroom, swipes a clean change of socks and underwear Eben keeps there, and a novel off a shelf in the bedroom. His cab to the airport comes before he can find a duffel bag, so he stuffs everything in a grocery sack he finds under the kitchen counter.
At the gate, the ground crew ask if they can look in the sack, but they let him board; he’s got his passport. When he gets off the plane, he is shaped like a coach class aisle seat. He is still half zonked on Tylenol PM. A juicy, irritated zit is sprouting on his right temple.
In Meknes, it is New Years Day.
Justin follows the same English speaking train Levi did, by tipping in small, steady increments, directly to Levi's hotel room. He tips a little extra to the boy who unlocks the door.
Levi has been in bed for the last fourteen hours. He has a big, clean single room all to himself. Prices are cheap out here, but they practice capital punishment for homosexuality. Justin closes the door as soon as he enters.
Levi lays there a moment longer. Justin thinks maybe he's not going to get up for him, and wonders what he will do. Levi’s eyes flare, then film over quickly, then he leaps to his feet.
"What are you doing here?" He hugs Justin.
"I’m here to kiss you." Justin tells Levi, and he does, fast, a little hard, counting deliberately one-mississippi, two-mississippi, and then pulling back before Levi can. Then he just looks at Levi, and touches his arms and back, and lets himself count one-mississippi, two mississippi. Then Justin makes himself let go, and picked up his grocery sack.
"I’m not doing anything like this right now." Levi tells Justin flatly.
"I’m going to catch my flight back now." Says Justin.
"Did I piss you off?" says Levi.
"No, I did what I came for. I have to get back to work, I told them I have the flu."
Justin tips the concierge on the way out, and asks him for directions to a tourist-friendly hash bar. He smokes the heavy, hash-laden tobacco for an hour before he heads to the Dar Jamai Museum of Moroccan Art, to spend the rest of his day until it’s time to catch his plane.
Levi finds Justin sitting on a bench in the Andalusian garden, about an hour before he needs to return to the airport.
"What was that all about?" asks Levi.
"The rebounding heart is unassailable," says Justin. "Much as I’m in love with you, I don’t want to help you get better. You’re going to shuck off whoever helps you recover like a moth cocoon."
"So?" says Levi. "Why’d you kiss me?"
"To give you something to think about," says Justin, "In the meantime."
Copyright 1999, by Jessica Goldberg