Speedy has hired John for the evening, but John first drags Speedy to the art gallery of an artist John has been with many times before. In the course of trying to decipher one of the artist’s works, John discovers how special the artist really is. And Speedy, despite his crass quest for dick, is the person to show him.
ACTORS: 2 Males any race/ethnicity, 20s and 20s/30s.
SETTING: A Manhattan art gallery.
At rise: Two men enter an art gallery. JOHN is handsome, dressed casually to the nines, and composed. SPEEDY is dressed expensively, well groomed, and perpetually business-like. Somewhat loud. He walks quickly from painting to painting. JOHN appears at first to be looking for something or someone, then meanders, uninterested in the exhibit. SPEEDY compulsively text messages and checks his mobile throughout the play.
SPEEDY: (pointing around gallery) I want that one, that one, and that one. I just told him, what’s-his-name.
JOHN: Devin Macleod, and that’s him, standing right there.
SPEEDY: (waving his mobile) Yeah, this was easier.
JOHN: Really? ‘Cause everyone can hear you.
SPEEDY: So, what?
JOHN: So, it’s gauche.
(JOHN notices a painting hanging on the “fourth wall” and breaks away from SPEEDY.)
SPEEDY: Well, this is no goddamn Met, that’s for sure.
JOHN: Did you see this one?
SPEEDY: Didn’t want it.
JOHN: (Completely taken by the work.) This is...
SPEEDY: Yeah don’t care. Not putting boobs on my wall.
JOHN: No doubt.
SPEEDY: Don’t get all high and mighty with me. You’re the one who dragged me here.
(Beat. JOHN is distracted and doesn’t respond.) I happen to like those because they got dick in them. And so does he.
JOHN: Who?
SPEEDY: The artist, what’s-his-name.
JOHN: Dev.
SPEEDY: (Somewhat put off.) Yeah. Look, I’m ready to go.
JOHN: We just got here.
SPEEDY: This is my nickel. You can see Dev some other night.
JOHN: I’m not looking at him, I’m looking at this. It’s good. Really, really good.
(SPEEDY goes up to the painting, not to look at it, but the price tag.)
SPEEDY: What’s NFS?
JOHN: Money is fast.
SPEEDY: If you say so.
JOHN: Look at it. At her. Still bathed in the afterglow. They’re barely finished and he’s already reaching for his wallet.
SPEEDY: MIF.
JOHN: What.
SPEEDY: Money is fast. That’s MIF, not NFS.
(SPEEDY sends another text.)
JOHN: He would have paid her already.
SPEEDY: He’s ordering out?
JOHN: See, there. On her nightstand. The wad of bills. He’s already paid.
SPEEDY: So what? He’s done. He’s grabbing his things to go.
JOHN: Could be.
SPEEDY: And so are we. Meeting up with Billy and James for a drink first.
JOHN: May be he’s giving her a tip...or...guilt money.
SPEEDY: Guilt money.
JOHN: For leaving so soon.
SPEEDY: Then she’s getting off easy. Hey! Pretty funny, huh?
JOHN: Brilliant.
SPEEDY: We’re going. Now.
JOHN: Or maybe he doesn’t love her, and that’s why he’s giving her more.
SPEEDY: If you think for one minute that I’m going to give you—
JOHN: Don’t be a boor.
SPEEDY: I own you! At least for another... (checks mobile)
JOHN: You know, we’re done here.
(JOHN gets up to leave.)
SPEEDY: That’s what it means! What the—
JOHN: I’ll make sure you get a full refund.
SPEEDY: NFS. He just told me. What’s the point of being here if I can’t—
JOHN: Not everything is for sale. Not everything has a price.
SPEEDY: Oh, yeah? (text messages) Let’s see if he wants to turn down an offer like that.
JOHN: Wait. Don’t!
(As JOHN says this line, SPEEDY completes his text, and shows it with a final closing of the cell phone or some other motion.)
SPEEDY: Whu’s the matter?
JOHN: (quietly, trying to maintain calm, and looking off-stage to where Devin is.) You don’t want this one. It’s got boobs.
SPEEDY: It’s got you. Mooning over it. Paying more attention to a wall hanging than to me.
JOHN: All right. You’re right. I’m sorry. (pause) They’re going to bring...dates, too?
SPEEDY: Who?
JOHN: What’s-their-names.
SPEEDY: Billy and James. Could be.
JOHN: And are they keeping their evening as short as ours?
SPEEDY: Not a word to them about you.
JOHN: They’ll know.
SPEEDY: I mean it.
JOHN: It’s my job.
SPEEDY: What’s the big deal, anyway?
JOHN: That’s what I was thinking.
SPEEDY: Exactly.
JOHN: You’re all doing the same thing.
SPEEDY: I mean we’re all guys.
JOHN: The quick and easy.
SPEEDY: Simple.
JOHN: And imaginative.
SPEEDY: Ha! Funny. It’s not like I fuck a guy’s brain.
JOHN: No kidding.
SPEEDY: That’s why I called.
JOHN: Right.
SPEEDY: So I wouldn’t have to.
JOHN: Except that you’re all pretending to have boyfriends.
SPEEDY: What’s your point?
JOHN: (referring to the couple in the painting). Because they’re like us, right? Only not.
SPEEDY: Yeah. She’s got boobs. (Beat.) Sorry. Sorry. You know, I only agreed to come here first ‘cause you said there’d be dick.
JOHN: There is, everywhere. This is different. Worth paying attention to.
SPEEDY: I’ll give you a minute.
JOHN: Ooh a whole minute.
SPEEDY: (checks his mobile) Nice. Nice guy, this Dev. He says: Not for sale to you. To me he says that.
JOHN: He’s just sore.
SPEEDY: So it is you.
JOHN: It’s nobody. NFS means nobody gets it.
(SPEEDY finally sits next to JOHN, but has to get up again to walk around while he really looks the painting over.)
SPEEDY: This guy’s really not half bad.
JOHN: I told you.
SPEEDY: Except for the boob thing. Not putting me in the mood, you know?
JOHN: Does one need to be in the mood for a quickie?
SPEEDY: One does. She does anyway. It’s her job.
JOHN: What?
SPEEDY: I said it’s her job.
JOHN: No, it’s not. It’s her job to act like she’s in the mood.
SPEEDY: But she is. In the mood.
JOHN: (a revelation) She’s not pretending. (suddenly anxious.) Kiss me.
SPEEDY: What?
JOHN: Put me in the mood.
SPEEDY: Oh, no. I don’t do that.
JOHN: What?
SPEEDY: I spend 60 hours a week dealing with assholes and emergencies all more urgent than the rest. And all I wanted was an easy evening. Predictable. It’s what I paid for!
JOHN: It’s her job to put him in the mood.
(SPEEDY nods.)
JOHN (CONT’D)
So she’s getting the better end of the deal.
SPEEDY: Bingo. (checks his mobile) Hey! Wha’dya know? I got that one there. “Dick Number One.” Musta bid the highest.
JOHN: Good for you.
SPEEDY: (text messages) Smart man. Knows a dick connoisseur when he sees one.
JOHN: (looking off-stage to where Devin is) If you say so. Look. We can go see your friends now.
SPEEDY: (referring to the painting) What about them?
JOHN: No, it’s OK. It’s getting stuffy in here.
SPEEDY: C’mon. I told you I’d help out.
(They stare at the painting a while longer.)
SPEEDY: So. What did you do?
JOHN: What.
SPEEDY: To make him sore at you.
JOHN: Nothing.
SPEEDY: You musta done something. You don’t exactly endear yourself, you know.
JOHN: I said I’d give your money back.
SPEEDY: OK. Just asking. You know, you’re the one should keep his voice down.
JOHN: Yeah. Sorry.
SPEEDY: That’s all right. I don’t mind it. You’re kinda sexier this way.
JOHN: We should go. We’re running out of time.
SPEEDY: Don’t worry about it.
JOHN: But you said—
SPEEDY: Just ‘cause I’m quick doesn’t mean I like to be rushed.
JOHN: All right.
SPEEDY: You don’t have an egg timer, do ya?
JOHN: An egg timer? What for?
SPEEDY: Like her. I don’t want no timer clicking down the minutes.
JOHN: Huh.
SPEEDY: Yeah, well. He’s reaching for the wallet, but she’s the one got her rocks off. Or...you know...whatever...she gets...off. He’s paying for her afterglow! (checks his mobile.) Hey! I got “Dick Number Two!” Half off!
JOHN: (uncomfortable) Can we go have this conversation in private?
SPEEDY: The painting’s here.
JOHN: You’ve figured it out. They’re out of time.
SPEEDY: He’s buying more.
JOHN: She doesn’t need it.
SPEEDY: If you say so. Either way, the egg timer went ‘ding!’
JOHN: Stupid.
SPEEDY: Time is money.
JOHN: Right.
SPEEDY: And money is fast.
JOHN: But an egg timer?
SPEEDY: Where’s your clock?
JOHN: What?
SPEEDY: C’mon c’mon. My life is time and money. How do you keep track of time?
JOHN: I have small clocks tastefully placed around the room. Not too noticeable.
SPEEDY: But you’re aware of them.
JOHN: I guess.
SPEEDY: She doesn’t have that. She has the egg timer.
JOHN: No one would do that.
SPEEDY: Unless they’re blind or something.
JOHN: Or something.
SPEEDY: And she’s got the cane.
JOHN: You’re joking.
SPEEDY: There. Next to her things.
JOHN: But that— that’s cliché. What? She can’t see his love, so he paints her as blind?
SPEEDY: You know, she don’t look so much like she hates being with him either.
JOHN: He would never do that.
SPEEDY: Subtle don’t work for some people.
JOHN: Well some people aren’t obvious enough.
SPEEDY: Or gauche?
JOHN: C’mon. Billy and James are waiting.
(SPEEDY leads the way, checking his mobile. JOHN follows but turns back and looks off stage where Dev would be. SPEEDY stops.)
SPEEDY: Look at that! He’s giving me “Dick Number Three.” Free! Wha’dya think of that!
(SPEEDY looks back at JOHN. Lights fade to black.)
(END OF PLAY)