Prologue

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Allen

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(Setting: A midtown high-rise New York City hotel room of immense size decorated in bright colors with modern furniture and abstract paintings on the wall. A foyer leading in to the room is in the far right corner. An unseen bathroom is off the foyer next to the front door.

A king-size bed extends from the right wall. Next to it on either side are end tables with lamps. The foot of the bed points towards the middle of the room. Before the bed is a comfortable padded wing chair also pointed towards the middle of the room. Numerous metal folding chairs, some turned over, are arranged in different rows around the wing chair in a large haphazard semi-circle. The rows extend all the way into the back of the room. An open window with curtains blowing in the breeze is in the corner where the left wall and back wall meet. Next to the window on the back wall is a writing desk on which a telephone sits. An in-room bar and refrigerator is to the right of the writing desk. Rows of modern raised floor large closets extend along the remainder of the back wall to the foyer opening.

Empty liquor bottles, empty bottles and cans of beer, soda, juice, tea and water, dirty glasses, an over-turned champagne bucket stand, half eaten plates of food, empty pizza boxes, white cartons of Chinese food, cigarettes, cigar butts, spilled ashtrays, piles of animal manure, straw, large animal bones with bits of meat still on them, used condoms, etc. are scattered about the room together with the coverlet, sheets and pillows from the bed. Mysterious viscous substances, blood and semen stain the carpet.)

(A tall, thin man with close-cropped hair comes into the room wearing a hotel maid's outfit and pushing a room-cleaning cart filled with fresh sheets and towels.)


Judge Crater (in a tired, worn exasperated tone): The moment I slid my pass card in the door I could tell this room had been rented for use as an incall location. It will take me hours to make this place presentable for that nice elderly couple from Indiana. They're due in at noon to see a few Broadway plays and do a little shopping.

Judge Crater (stooping to pick up a used condom): This man is obviously not drinking the recommended eight glasses of water a day.

Judge Crater (walks over to the writing desk, opens the maid's tip envelope, and puts the folded currency into the front pocket of his maid's uniform): Judge Crater here welcoming you to BareBack Theatre on the BareBack Television Channel. Our story tonight asks the question of whether we are ever really alone as we think we are when engaged in our (clears his throat with an "Ahem") discreet encounters.

(Fade to black)

Mrs. Chong's Debut - Act One

(Setting: Same hotel room as in Prologue, but somewhat cleaner.)

(Spotlights slowly illuminate a balding naked white man in his late 40s sitting in the padded wing chair with his head back and his eyes closed. His name is Bob. Before him kneels a white woman in her early 30s who is wearing black high heels, black thigh highs, garter belts and a bustier. Bob knows her as Vanessa. Her name is Ruth.

Except where specifically noted, Bob and Ruth do not speak directly to each other and cannot hear each other speak. Neither can Bob and Ruth hear or speak to any other character. The other characters, however, can hear and speak to each other and address Bob and Ruth.

Unless noted otherwise, Ruth is engaged in holding and stroking Bob's dick whenever she is speaking. Whenever Ruth stops speaking, she resumes blowing Bob with her eyes closed. Bob looks up with his eyes open whenever he is speaking. Whenever Bob stops speaking, he closes his eyes and leans back. The spotlights illuminating Bob and Ruth dim whenever they are not speaking and slowly come on again before they speak. When their spotlights are not lit, they are only seen in the light from other spotlights.

To the front and left of where Ruth kneels, there is a champagne bucket stand on ice with a full, unopened bottle of champagne. The rest of the room is pitch black until lit by successive spotlights. These spotlights always remain lit.)


Ruth: You've barely said anything to me since you arrived. After your shower, you just sat down like you were at a barbershop and said you wanted a blowjob. ---- So what kind of blowjob would you like? My Truck Stop Waitress? With this one, my mouth goes up and down on you non-stop gradually going faster and faster. I keep my hands completely to myself. No? How about the Half-Jerk/Half-Suck? They teach it in HO-101 for those who never figured it out in high school. It's the American classic. I hold on to the base of your dick to make sure you don't try to suddenly ram it down my throat. Then my mouth and hand goes up and down on you in one continuous combined smooth milking motion. Lips carefully placed over teeth. Not too fast, but not too slow either. I pause every so often to sense whether you are starting to come. When you do, I go all the way down on you as far as I can without choking and hold my mouth there until you stop twitching and announce your complete satisfaction with a happy little grunt or a sigh or a "Thank you," or an "Oh, my God" if you are religiously inclined. Doesn't interest you? Perhaps something a little more elegant: my Courtesan Special. Those who are true connoisseurs of getting sucked off are very fond of this one. I apply ever-varying circular light, delicate strokes with my right hand while I bob up and down on you with my mouth ever so gently, carefully alternating hard sucks with soft sucks. Sometimes going all the way down. Sometimes just teasing the head with a little side suck and lick. Sometimes taking your balls in my mouth one by one while the fingers of my left hand gently trace the spot between your balls and asshole. Other times holding your balls gently and lightly squeezing them just so. I'm very, very good at this one. My professional reputation, in fact, was built on my Courtesan Special. You must try it. You'll never know where the next sensation will strike. Comes complete with prostate massage. No? How about the Ghost? This one starts off as a blowjob but ends up being a premium sort of hand job where you can't even tell whether it's my mouth or hand going up and down on you. It's very popular with men who like to remember the hand jobs they received in high school. Something a little rougher maybe? My Porn Star Wank is quite excellent. With this one, I blow you a little bit first to get you going and then jerk you off using my patented over-handed maneuver until you come on my tits. Depending on your mood, I give you either a nasty half-demented leer straight in your face or look to the side with downcast eyes pretending to be abandoned, sultry and demure all at the same time. Also very popular. No? Something else? Hmm. You are going to be difficult to reach. Oh, now I know what you want! You want the Sampler Platter with the SchoolGirl Finish. With this one, you get every kind of blowjob that I know how to give. Then, when you're finally ready to come, I have you hold on to the back of my head with both hands and ram your dick as far back into my throat as you can get it. With this one, you get a bruised lipped earnest vulnerability from me at the end with my eyes completely closed shut when you come. An extremely popular request from silent men like you who need to feel like they're in charge. Men who want to remember everything and then be young again. I should have known it the moment you walked in the room. I must be tired. The Chinese man this afternoon was like that. I bet your wife bosses you around a lot just like his wife does him. Men like you need the Sampler Platter with the SchoolGirl Finish. Without it, you might go to K-Mart, buy a shotgun and start shooting strangers on the street.

(Spotlights slowly illuminate a first row of chairs to the left of Ruth in which four naked middle aged men of various shapes and sizes are sitting. These are the johns that Ruth has previously seen today. Three of the four johns (one white, one black and one Chinese man) are catatonic and sit on their chairs looking straight ahead. The black and Chinese catatonic johns wear tri-corner pirate hats made from newspaper. The black catatonic john also wears a paper red heart on a paper necklace around his neck. The fourth john, who is white and does not wear a pirate hat, is putting the finishing touches on a new pirate hat and a new paper necklace with a paper blue star. His name is Morgan. When Morgan is finished, he places the paper hat on the white bareheaded catatonic john and places the paper necklace with a paper blue star on a chair next to him.)

Morgan (rising and then standing): On your feet, men. Rightly or wrongly, Ruth has chosen Chang as the model for the blowjob she's going to give Bob. We must now all say goodbye to him.

(Catatonic johns stand up in a line and look straight ahead.)

Morgan (walking down the line and standing in front of Chang): Try to be a man about it, Chang. You're only being recycled so that Ruth can use her memory of you to deal with Bob here. It happens to you hundreds of times each day when you walk down the street and your face is recycled into new faces by the people you walk past on their way to seeing other similar faces. You'll feel just a slight twinge of depression while your wife passes you the fruit salad. It'll be over by the time you start to do the dishes. Any last words?

(Chang vanishes in a puff of smoke.)

Morgan: I didn't think so. All right men, in memory of Chang who has now gone to his eternal resting-place at his wife's kitchen sink, you shall now practice the dance that I have taught you.

(The traditional Gaelic tune, "Job of Journeywork," begins to play at medium tempo. Catatonic johns perform a step dance.)

Morgan (picking up Chang's pirate hat): Now kick once! Now kick twice!

(Catatonic johns kick out three times with their right feet.)

Morgan: At your ease. You may sit.

(Music stops. Morgan and the two remaining catatonic johns sit down. Whenever he is not speaking, Morgan reads a book.)

(Bob opens up his eyes and looks down at Ruth to inspect her while she blows him with her eyes closed.)


Bob (lifting a small Dictaphone to his mouth with his right hand to dictate his review notes): No stomach pouch. Stretch marks where her legs meet her ass. Probably went through a fat girl period once when she was depressed. I've seen lots of prostitutes with stretch marks like that. They're different than pregnancy stretch marks. I can always tell the difference. Breasts are funny shaped B-Cups. Like two drunks with broken, pointy brown red noses trying to push their way out of the front door of a bar at the same time. Pretty decent ass with smallish ass cheeks. The ass cheeks sag just the smallest bit at the bottom. Neither waist nor hips much narrower or wider than her ass. All flowing into each other. Nice skin. Soft and tan. Pubic hair shaved. Nose and lips too big and thick. She's certainly not launching any ships with that face. Long dark wavy brown hair. I'm feeling generous tonight. For looks, I'll give Vanessa 5 out of a possible 10. Acceptable on the spur of the moment when your first two choices don't pan out and you have to take what you can get. I'm her first of the day, she said on the telephone. I suppose I should consider myself lucky. I wonder if she'd mind terribly much if I reached over (Bob reaches over) and dipped a finger in her like so (Bob inserts his finger in Ruth's vagina) to have a sniff. (Bob sniffs his finger). Hmm. Kind of flat. Not yeast infection stinky or unwashed. Nothing special. I won't bother to eat her. (Lowers Dictaphone) Oh, shit! I just remembered. I have to call Mom about dinner on Saturday night with her and Dad. Then Jean to let her know. They both get angry when I don't call to confirm these things well in advance. I'll call as soon as I get out of here. (Sighing) Maybe I should learn to smile a little more and be more talkative. Show a little more human warmth. I might get more of a girlfriend type experience then. The kind that other men have that I read about on Internet prostitution message boards. That's the ticket! I'll learn to smile.

(Bob looks down at Ruth with a big smile then leans back smiling to himself while closing his eyes.)

(Spotlights slowly illuminate first row of chairs to the right of Bob. In this first row of chairs sit Bob's Mom and Dad with Bob's wife, Jean. On the left, Bob's Dad sits reading a newspaper with his face unseen. His name is Herb. He is in his early 80s and wears gray flannel slacks, loafers, regimental tie and blue blazer. Sitting next to him is Bob's Mom. Her name is Catherine. She is a tall, elegant looking woman also in her early 80s. She wears a black dress, low sensible heels and a pearl necklace. Bob's wife, Jean, sits next to Bob's Mom. She wears a blouse, skirt and comfortable shoes. Jean is an attractive woman her late 30s. When they are not speaking, Catherine and Jean busy themselves writing Christmas cards.)


Herb (addressing Catherine from behind the newspaper in a commanding voice): Bring me a bottle of scotch and hold the garlic. My doctor says I can't have garlic. It's bad for my ulcer.

Catherine (standing to peer more closely at Bob and Ruth before sitting back down again and addressing Herb): Herb, I'll see about your scotch when the snack cart arrives. This is a nice place. I'm sure there will be a snack cart. It's much better than those Asian massage parlors and Spanish quickie joints out in Queens that Bob used to take us to when he was younger. We'd be lucky to get a dixie cup of dirty water in those places. The session rooms were so small and dismal. You could always hear what was happening in the next room. Such vile and hostile people. I'll never forget the time that old drunken Dominican man with one rotten tooth pinched my rear-end, called me his "puta" and chased me laughing and waving his dick while his daughter blew Bob. You just sat there reading your newspaper.

Herb: It's not like we're really here in the flesh. We're just in this dream state we go into when we accompany Bob on his Wednesday night blowjobs. You gotta learn to make allowances when you're in these places. There's no sense in getting too upset about anything. ---- I hope Bob washed his ass with soap tonight. He forgets sometimes.

Catherine: I'm so glad that Bob only goes to see independents now in nice, clean, modern hotels. This one seems like a nice girl. Someone from a home where English was spoken as a first language and the livestock slept outside. She seems willing to do her best despite Bob's evident lack of personality. (Addressing Jean) My apologies, Jean, for speaking the truth. ---- He's so unlike the men in my family. ---- I hope he washed his feet. They usually stink to high heaven just like his father's feet.

Jean (addressing Catherine): Oh, no. It's quite all right. I agree. Bob is clearly deteriorating. He's nothing at all like the man I thought I was marrying.

Herb: Stinky feet are a sign of genius, Catherine. And let me remind you that Bob is nothing like me or anybody on my side of the family. He's all you and that bunch of mentally ill fuck-ups you call your family. And while we're on the subject of smells, do you really want me to start remembering all the wonderful physical surprises you've provided me? The rash on your ass that began in the summer of 1959 and didn't completely clear up until Kennedy moved into the White House. And that Lake Erie of a vagina of yours that spat out snow squalls each winter and the stink of dying fish each summer. It's why our children were all conceived in the spring or the fall. Those were the only times of the year I found you even remotely approachable. ---- Hey, Bob! Shit or get off the pot on this blowjob. When I was your age, I'd already have come once, flipped her over and been loaded for bear. Younger generation. Hell, you fucking people don't know how to relax! Always going on about your feelings and your precious little sensitivities. During the Depression, we didn't have any feelings. Only rich people could afford 'em. We learned to just work hard and hope for the best. It's all you can do really.

Catherine: Herb, stinky feet are merely the sign of a lazy and stupid man who never learned to wash between his toes.

Jean (addressing Bob): Bob, try to be a little nicer. Prostitutes like to be appreciated for doing a good job. You don't have to bring her candy, flowers or perfume, but at least you could show that you're grateful and interested. ---- Although she's nowhere near as attractive as I am, I insist that you change your physical description of her to show that you have some manners. I would suggest something along the lines of: Vanessa is a thin pretty woman with dark brown hair. (Addressing Herb) Herb, Bob did learn a few things from you, I think. He's a very hard worker. He's also wonderfully guilty after his sessions. He won't try and boss me around for at least a week.

Herb (addressing Jean): I haven't felt guilty about anything since 1938 when I broke up with Ellen Kirby to begin going out with Catherine here. Stupidest thing I ever did. ---- I'm not really sure how hard working Bob is. He might still run the firm into the shit-house if he puts his mind to it. ---- It's pitiful to see Bob at dinner when you and Catherine let out competing sighs. He goes back and forth between you two like some stupid tin duck at a shooting gallery trying to please you both. If it weren't so disgusting and funny to watch, I'd never have you over to the house. (Herb laughs) Heh, Bob! Sit up a little straighter. Show some class.

(Bob opens his eyes and sits up straighter before closing his eyes again.)

Catherine (addressing Jean): You don't know how good you have it. In my day, a woman had to learn to quiver her lips and chin and pretend that she was about to cry to produce any effect on a man. Sighs alone wouldn't work. Nowadays, women in nice families only have to sigh. ---- I've got to disagree with you on this prostitute's physical description. It doesn't say enough. She has beautiful eyes and a strong yet pleasing, delicate chin. While she's nowhere near as beautiful as I was when I was her age, I would think that men she is servicing would find her attractive. I think her physical description should be: Vanessa is an attractive, thin woman with dark brown hair, pleasing green eyes, delicate feminine chin and a delightful smile.
 
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