Does anyone else here hate it when she says your name? (Laughing. This is what she always does. It’s a pretty decent defense mechanism. It’s worked for a few years. Until recently, of course...) Well. Uh. Rita? I guess my week was about the same as Andy’s, I guess. Only my special evening was a bit less hot and a bit more... Well. (Beat.) You know, how they say it’s like riding a bicycle? Well. (Beat.) If you grew up in New York like I did and never learned to ride a fuckin’ bike, you’re up Shit’s Creek without a paddle, you know what I’m sayin’? Mark showed up at my door, totally unexpected. He’s been talking about it for a while, yeah, but I wasn’t prepared AT ALL. He drove here in a fever from Vancouver. (Beat.) You talk to a guy on the internet with a screenname like ClassyClown32, he’s bound to talk a lot of shit. Right? No. Nope. This was no shit-talking. At 3am – and I was OUT because I took two xanax with a glass of wine, right? – someone’s at my buzzer. I was so fucking pissed. And then when he said it was Mark, I just... What was I going to do? I had to let him up. And before I know it... boompoo... two years, six months, thirteen days, three hours and twenty minutes of forced chastity comes to its end. (Beat.) So anyway, he’s in Times Square right now. No shit. “Checking out the sights.” I said I had rehearsal. Couldn’t get out of it. Director’s a tyrant. That sort of thing. (Beat.) I didn't want to come. I'm sore as hell down there and I've got hives from all the fucking anxiety. But Mike pretty much forced me to. Said that I had to get down here and TALK about this. So. Yeah. Hi.
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