Pillow Talk #37
It’s 3AM and a man and a woman are lying in bed together underneath the sheets.
Woman: Wow! That was unbelievable!
Man: Yes, that was great!
Woman: No, I meant it’s unbelievable that I did this with someone I just met tonight. I hope you don’t think I do this kind of thing all the time…
Man: No, of course not. I think it’s a beautiful thing that we hit it off so well and we just let passion take over. I hope you don’t think I do this all the time!
Woman: Hmmm, I don’t know. This is quite a bachelor pad…
Man: Well, maybe you say that because it’s so messy. I’m really sorry. I’ve been traveling on business a lot lately. I haven’t had time to clean up or buy groceries.
Woman: Speaking of groceries, I’m famished. Do you have anything to eat?
Man: Oh, like I said, I haven’t been around to buy any food.
Woman: I’m really starving. I’ll eat anything!
Man: OK. Let me go downstairs to see what I can find.
Woman: Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!
Man: I’m not promising you much so please don’t get your hopes up.
The man leaves the room for five minutes and returns with a mug and a plate. He hands them to the woman and then climbs in bed beside her.
Woman: What do you have there?
Man: Well, I warned you, I don’t have much. Most of the stuff in the fridge has become a science project. The only things that looked safe to eat are these cold cuts and orange juice.
Woman: You don’t have any bread?
Man: No, unless you don’t mind eating bread covered in blue mould.
Woman: OK, I guess this will do. Do you always drink OJ out of a mug?
Man: Oh, sorry about that. I forgot to run the dishwasher so all my clean glasses and plates are in there. I don’t usually eat off that plate but it’s the only thing that’s clean.
Woman: What’s special about the plate?
Man: It’s a commemorative plate from the Barcelona Olympics that was a gift from an ex-roommate. He was an athlete at the games.
Woman: Oh really? You know someone who went to the Olympics? Did he win any medals?
Man: No, in fact, he almost came dead last! But I think it’s cool that he got to go.
Woman: Yeah, totally! I’d give anything to be in the Olympics. But I’m totally unathletic.
Man: You must be athletic. You have a great body. You must work out…
Woman: No, I hate working out. All that sweat! And besides, I’m totally uncoordinated so I don’t do any sports. Do you like sports?
Man: Actually, I do. I play racquetball and basketball and go biking every week. That’s if I’m in town. If I’m on the road, I have to make do with the hotel gyms which are usually pathetic.
Woman: Oh wow, I should have known that tight sinewy body was from working out. Especially those tight buns!
Man (slightly embarrassed): Thanks. I try. You should come play racquetball with me sometime.
Woman: Who me? You’ve got to be kidding. No, I prefer to burn my calories on the couch watching Oprah or Jerry.
Man: You like talk shows?
Woman: Yeah, especially Jerry. The guests are totally hilarious!
Man: I can’t stand talk shows! It’s just a bunch of weirdoes seeking attention and getting exploited by the shows’ producers.
Woman: It’s still funny to watch.
Man: Yeah, I suppose to each his own. Or her own, in this case.
Woman: So what does your athlete friend do now?
Man: Unfortunately, he passed away a couple of years ago.
Woman: Oh, I’m sorry.
Man: Yeah, that’s why the plate is special to me. It’s the only thing I have to remind me of him.
Woman: OK, that was good. I’m done.
Man: What, you finished the food already?
Woman: Yes, I told you I was really hungry. You didn’t want any did you?
Man: No, that’s OK.
Woman: Oh, I’m sorry. I thought you brought the plate for me. Do you have any more food in the fridge?
Man: No, that was all I had. Don’t apologize. I’m sorry that I didn’t have something better to offer.
Woman (smiling, she waves the plate): Oh look, if you’re still hungry, you can lick the grease off the plate.
Man: Please be careful with the plate. I would be really bummed if you dropped it.
Woman: Oh silly, I’m not going to drop it. Do you think I’m a klutz or something?
Man: No, no. It’s just that the plate has a lot of sentimental value.
The woman pretends to drop the plate.
Woman: Oops, silly me! I almost broke your precious plate…
Man: Please let me have it…
Woman: Where’s your sense of humor? I’m just messing with you.
Man: Yeah, I know. But since you’re done, I’ll just take the dishes downstairs.
The man takes the mug and plate and leaves the room. He returns shortly and climbs back into the bed. The woman has picked up her handbag and is looking for something inside.
Man: What are you looking for?
Woman: I’m dying for a smoke. I know my cigarettes are in here somewhere. You don’t mind if I smoke, do you?
Man: Uh...actually, I’d prefer if you didn’t.
There’s an awkward silence.
Man: I’m really sorry. You know it’s just that the smell of the smoke will stick around forever and I’m really sensitive to it.
Woman: Oh, don’t worry about it. I guess it’s a bad habit I should give up.
Man: I didn’t realize you smoked.
Woman: I had a couple of cigarettes at the party. Oh, that’s right, I did go to the ladies room to smoke.
Man: Aha, and I was wondering what you ladies do in the ladies room.
Woman: Ha ha, that among other things!
Man: But I didn’t even smell it on your breath…
Woman: I guess my breath mints work!
Man: Yeah, they do!
Woman: What? Are you saying you wouldn’t have been so friendly if you’d known I was a smoker?
Man: No, I’m not saying that…
Woman: So... what do you want to do now?
Man: I was thinking of putting on some romantic music to get us in the mood to continue the good thing we had going earlier.
Woman: Oooh, that sounds interesting. What are you going to play?
Man: Let me surprise you…
The man picks up a remote control and presses some buttons. A ballad starts to play.
Woman: Oh, who is this? Wait a minute…Oh my God! This isn’t Luther, is it?
Man: Yes, the Minister of Romance himself.
Woman: Oh, I can’t stand him!
Man: You’re joking! Everybody loves Luther!
Woman: You mean everyone over fifty! My mother likes Luther. My grandmother likes Luther! But give me a break, Luther is so tired!
Man: Luther is a classic! Lot’s of young people love Luther. I love Luther…
Woman: And how old did you say you were?
Man: I’m not over fifty! Besides, this song here is one of the best songs ever recorded!
Woman: Oh please! I had to listen to my Mom play it when I was a kid. It’s tired! Besides, Luther is so gay anyway.
Man: Hold on a second. You don’t know that he’s gay!
Woman: Hello! What planet have you been living on? Luther is so gay!
Man: Luther has never said he is gay. It’s just a stupid rumor as far as I’m concerned.
Woman: It’s more than a rumor. Have you ever seen Luther speak?
Man: You mean like on TV? Yeah, I’ve seen him talking.
Woman: Then you must be blind. Haven’t you seen how effeminate he is? He’s got to be the gayest man in America!
Man: No he’s not. He’s just a regular guy.
Woman: You must be on drugs! Why do you think he’s never been married?
Man: What? Just because a man has never been married, that makes him gay?
Woman: You have to admit it’s suspicious that this so called “Minister of Romance” has never gotten hitched all these years.
Man: I don’t know. Maybe he’s been playing the field. Besides, why does it matter if he’s gay? He still makes great music. Do you know how many people were conceived to his music?
Woman: Yes, but if people only knew all these years, Luther would be the last thing they would play…
Man: That’s not true. Just because you’re homophobic doesn’t mean everybody else is.
Woman (angrily): Excuse me! I’m not homophobic! That’s very insulting!
Man: Look, I’m sorry. I don’t know why we’re arguing about whether or not the man is gay. Who cares? He still makes great music!
Woman: Well I don’t like him and he’s certainly not going to get me in any romantic mood. I’d appreciate it if you put something else on.
Man: OK, OK. Let me see what else I have in here…Oh, what about some Jarreau?
Woman (rolls her eyes): I can’t believe it! Do you only listen to tired gay singers?
Man: What? Not Al too! How can you say that? He’s married!
Woman: Give me a break! You must have no gaydar!
Man: I really think you’re homophobic now!
Woman: You jerk! Just because I’m telling you these guys are gay doesn’t make me homophobic. I’m not going to stay here and be insulted anymore. I’m going home! Please call me a cab.
The woman gets up, gathers her clothes from the floor and leaves the bedroom for the bathroom. The man picks up the phone and calls for a taxi. She emerges from the bathroom much later after hearing the taxi honk outside.
Woman: Before I go, you should know: You’re a typical male pig!
Man: What did I do?
Woman: I tell you I’m leaving and you don’t even try to stop me!
Man: I didn’t realize you could be stopped. You looked pretty upset.
Woman: You didn’t even try! I guess you got what you wanted tonight.
Man: No, I wanted some more.
Woman: You arrogant jerk!
Man: No, sorry, I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. Please stay. Let’s just forget the music and come back to bed…
Woman: Why, so you can slobber all over me again?
Man: What?! I didn’t hear you complaining before!
Woman: When would I have had the opportunity to complain? It was over in like thirty seconds!
Man: Oh yeah? I’m sure the neighbors will agree it was long enough for you to get yours!
Woman: Puh-leez! Don’t you know when a girl is faking it? Oh silly me, how would you be able to know the difference when every woman you’ve been with has had to fake it.
Man: No woman has ever faked it with me!
Woman: Yep, like I said, you’re just another typical pig-headed man. Go on living in your dream world. I’m out of here!
Man: Oh, before you go, there’s one thing you should know.
Man: If you made time to go to the gym, maybe your butt wouldn’t jiggle so much!
Woman: Oh God! That is so mean! I’m leaving and please don’t bother getting up. I can see myself out.
Man: Fine! Just remember to turn off the hallway light when you go out.
The woman storms out of the room. A few seconds later, a loud sound of crashing china from downstairs is heard. Then the sound of the front door opening and slamming shut. The scene ends with the man bolting upright in the bed with a look of horrified realization.
©2002 Hugh Molotsi