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Doric Wilson’s

STREET THEATER

A participant in all three nights of the Stonewall Riots, Doric Wilson wrote Street
Theater not so much as a history of the event but as a record of the people he knew
and the incidents he was involved in on Christopher Street in the months, days and
hours leading up to the night that gays fought back. The play focuses on a
panorama of drags, dykes, leathermen, flower children, vice cops and cruisers—
the innocent and not-so-innocent bystanders who would turn the 28th of June,
1969 into a D-day in gay history.

for

Eddy Armour, Richard Barr, Billy Blackwell, Robert Chesley, Web Clason,

Tony Coffee, Howard Crabtree, Allan Estes, Jerry Fitzpatrick, J. Kevin Hanlon,

Curtis Holsapple, Bruce Hopkins, Bill & Kahba, Rob Kilgallen, Don Lee,

Jack Logan, Terry Miller, Michael O’Brien, Jim Owles, Vito Russo, Sam Pasco,

Joe Pichette, Ty Pinney, Jay Schmiedeskamp, Ivan Smith, David Summers,

Walter Torgerson, David Vangen, Wally Wallace, Jerry West

and far far too many others

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CAUTION: Professionals and amateurs are hereby warned that Doric Wilson’s
Street Theater is subject to a royalty. The play is fully protected under the
copyright laws of the United States of America, and of all countries covered by the
International Copyright Union (including the Dominion of Canada and the rest of
the British Commonwealth), and of all countries covered by the Pan-American
Copyright Convention and the Universal Copyright Convention, and of all
countries with which the United States has reciprocal copyright relations. All
rights, including professional, amateur, motion picture, recitation, lecturing, public
reading, classroom or workshop performance, radio broadcasting, television, and
the rights of translation into foreign languages, are strictly reserved by the author.
Particular emphasis is laid upon the question of readings and the use of this play
for classroom, workshop or audition purposes, permission for which must be
secured from the author and/or his agent in writing. No portion of the play may be
published, reprinted in any publication, or copied for any commercial reason,
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excepting copies necessary for personal use or to assist in a production of the play,
without permission of the author and/or his agent.

Printing 1

Doric Wilson’s Street Theater!

© Copyright 2005, United Stages

ISBN

Doric Wilson copyrighted the play with the

FOR PEOPLE INTERESTED IN PRODUCING: Contact Doric Wilson, c/o

TOSOS, 506 Ninth Avenue, Apt 3FN, New York, N.Y. 10018. email:
doricw@nyc.rr.com phone: (212) 563-2218;

Doric Wilson’s Street Theater opened Thursday, February 18, 1982, at Theatre
Rhinoceros in the Redstone Building, 2940 16th Street, San Francisco, CA. The
play was directed by Allan Estes with the following cast: Murfino: Ron Lanza;
Jack: Harvey Hand; C.B.: Margaret Van Schenk; Heather: Maud Winchester;
Seymour: Joe Cappetta; Ceil: Duane Cropper; Donovan: Mark Merry; Sidney:
David Vining; Boom Boom: Steevn Lloyd; Timothy: David Williston; Michael:
Alan Herman; Donald: Brett Hirschi; Jordan: Tom Ammiano; Gordon: Robert
Ferguson.

The New York City premier of Street Theater opened Thursday, November 18,
1982, at the Basement, 257 Church Street. Produced by Ken Cook, TOSOS and
Bart in association with Terry Miller and Candida Scott Piel, Ken Cook replaced J.
Kevin Hanlon as director. Meridian Theatre then moved the play to the Mineshaft
on January 2, 1983. The cast (including the Mineshaft *replacements) was as
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follows: Murfino: Harvey Perr, *Tony Nunziata; Jack: Nole Cohen, *Peter
Boruchowitz; C.B.: Julia Dares; Heather: Maud Winchester, *Loreta Feldon;
Seymour: Joseph Smenyak, *Tony Torres; Ceil: Billy Blackwell, *Casey Wayne;
Donovan: Michael Scully, *Tom Cahill; Sidney: Ivan Smith, *Daniel Holmberg;
Boom Boom: Michael Bowers, *Philip Blackwell, *Michael Lynch; Timothy:
David Williston, *J. J. La Britz; Michael: Mel Minter, *Doug Devos; Donald:
Archie Harrison, *Charles Poindexter; Jordan: Vito Russo, *Terry Helbing;
Gordon: Joel Jason, *Randy Cartagno. Stage Manager: Warren Lalman (Church
Street), Gail Wilcox (Mineshaft); Set Design: Valentine Hooven (Church Street);
Lighting Design: Nancy Haskell; Hair: Ethyl Eichelberger; Fire Hydrant: Melissa;
Press: Francine Trevens & David Mayhew, Free Lance Talents; Mineshaft
Graphics: Howard Cruse.

Street Theater then moved in spring 1983 to an off-Broadway run at the Actor’s
Playhouse. Produced and directed by Ken Cook, the cast was as follows: Murfino:
Tibor Feldman; Jack: Louis Affenito; C.B.: Julia Dares; Heather: Elizabeth
Berman; Seymour: Tony Torres; Ceil: Casey Wayne; Donovan: Tom Cahill;
Sidney: Daniel Holmberg; Boom Boom: Michael Lynch; Timothy: David Drake
(NYC debut); Michael: Curt Baker; Donald: John Canning; Jordan: Gary Shrader;
Gordon: Peter Bruno.

In April of 2002 the revised script of Street Theater was given it's first airing in the
TOSOS II production at The Eagle NYC, where it ran for 6 weeks (*revived for
another six weeks in 2003). Mark Finley directed the definitive performance to
date, with the following cast and crew: Murfino: Joe DeFeo; Jack: Bruce Ward;
C.B.: Sharron Bower, *Cheryl Orsini; Heather: Jennifer Bryan, *Jamie Evermann;
Seymour: Terrence M. McCrossan; Ceil: Chris Andersson; Donovan: Adam
Raynen; Sidney: Douglas Gregory; Boom Boom: Michael Lynch, Michael Lynch;
Timothy: Jamison Lee Driskill, *Kevin Held; Michael: Nathan Johnson, *Chris
Weikel; Donald: Ashley Green; Jordan: Jonathan Cedano; Gordon: Derek Ellis,
*Desmond Dutcher; producers: Barry Childs, Bob Cruz, David Bishop; stage
managers: Frank Siciliano, *Mark Barranco; crew: Kevin Held, Mary Louise
Mooney, David Stern; house managers & front of house: Paul Batchelor & Robert
Cruz; costumes: Chris Weikel wigs: Zsamira Sol Ronquillo; lighting: Sandy
Baker; set pieces: *Michael Muccio; fireplug: Ben Brody; sound: *Lisa
Kozlowski. (*2003 replacements)
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Doric Wilson on Street Theater - New York City, April, 2005

In the summer of 1980 as I was walking past the site of the Stonewall Inn on
Christopher I heard a street queen call out to a friend, "Hi ya, Ceil!, how ya doin',
hun?," and like Proust with a mouthful of Madeleine I flashed back to 1969, and
not a thing had changed. The rhetoric of liberation to the contrary, and to das fury
of Andrew Sullivan and the rest of the straight gays, the “stereotypes” seem to
have survived and flourished. We had not muted into rows upon rows of good
little Log Cabin Republicans trooping by in a rainbow of polo shirts.

I began Street Theater that night. I wrote most of it on the back of disco promos
while employed as the doorman of a nameless (and thankfully for the writing
process) unpopular Upper Westside bar. The incidents in Street Theater are all
autobiographical, including the cops arresting each other, and Seymour offering
his nightstick to Jack. The characters are based on actual people, C.B. is a
composite of Mama Jean and Pat Bond; Heather is Sally Eaton; Timothy is David
Summers; Seymour is an NYPD cop of the same name; Boom Boom is a homage
to Miss Marsha Johnson, etc., etc.. BUT Sidney is not Voice critic Michael
Feingold, anymore than Murfino is Ed Murphy nor Jack is Doric Wilson.

I gave Allan Estes at San Francisco's Theater Rhinoceros the premiere of Street
Theater in gratitude for his support of my earlier plays. My main memory of the
opening night was my seventy year old mother being physically assaulted in front
of the theatre by a deputation of radical lesbians angry that my play dared to
suggest that transvestites participated at Stonewall. (No doubt they were the very
same women who later hauled the dying Robert Chesley before a Star Chamber to
explain why his plays did not gander-step to the beat of political correctness.)

Three New York City productions followed, the first a disastrous showcase at
the old TOSOS site directed by a recently reformed dipsomaniac who spent the
rehearsal trying to negotiate the twelve steps. The second was an award winning,
highly successful long run deep in the bowels of Manhattan's notorious Mineshaft.
Casey Wayne and Philip Blackwell (and later Michael Lynch) dressed in the "tub
room" where they took special pleasure in splashing gallons of dime store
Gardenia perfume around Wally Wallace's cologne-free den of depravity. An Off-
Broadway engagement followed at the Actor's Playhouse (David Drake's debut),
but Minetta Creek overflowed it's underground conduit, flooding the Actor’s
Playhouse and causing Street Theater to sink. As the waters rushed in, Michael
Lynch was rumored to be seen running up the aisle screaming, “Drag queens first,
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then women and children!”

Many other - dryer - productions followed, but it wasn't until after I directed the
play in Seattle and Los Angeles in the late 1980's that I was able to put the climax
of the play in its proper sequence. This is the first publication of this script. In
April of 2002 this revised script of Street Theater was given it's definitive
production directed by Mark Finley and produced by Barry Childs for TOSOS II
at the Eagle NYC (where it ran for 6 weeks to critical acclaim and returned a year
later for another six weeks).

Since its opening, Street Theater has had multiple productions all over the
country, most recently in Omaha, Palm Springs, Memphis, Miami and Fort
Lauderdale, with future productions pending from New Orleans to Cape Town,
South Africa.

The popularity of the play has been a major influence on other creative artists
who pay me the great compliment of "lifting" (without permission or
acknowledgment) character names, plot particulars and entire scenes from the
play. Noteworthy “borrowers” are Tina Landau and Anne Hamburger, whose
Stonewall: Night Variations was littered with bits and pieces of Street Theater ;
and Michael Korie, who appropriated the play's climax (even to my misquotation
of actual graffiti) for the first act finale of his opera Harvey Milk . A leather-clad
opera critic, recognizing the "unlicensed" borrowing, suggested that I should be
"flattered". And I am. As Ceil might say “I am highly overwhelmed—now buy me
a drinkie!”

For the most reliable account of the Stonewall Riots, I highly recommend
David Carter’s Stonewall (St. Martin’s Press). An earlier version of Street Theater
is published by JH Press (now under the imprimatur: T’n’T Classics, Inc.), and the
play is included in the Grove Press anthology: Out Front , edited by Don Shewey.
This script is currently the only version authorized for production.
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Cast of characters:

Murfino, a thug

Jack, heavy leather, keys left

C.B., a politically incorrect lesbian

Heather, a flower child

Seymour, a vice cop

Ceil, a street queen

Donovan, apparently a pedestrian

Sidney, in the closet

Boom Boom, a street queen

Timothy, new in town

Michael, in analysis

Donald, noncommittal

Jordan, a student radical

Gordon, a new-left liberal

Setting: A performance space (and then Christopher Street)

Time: The present (and then late evening, the 27th of June, 1969)
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ACT I

(No curtain. No scenery. The audience, arriving, sees an empty

performance space in half-light. The sound system plays a medley of up beat
golden oldies from the late sixties, ending with the Lovin' Spoonful's Summer
in the City. Murfino, a thug, enters through the audience carrying a battered
garbage can.)

(NOTE: Staged in many different formats, the author’s preference is to

perform the play on a runway through the audience.)

Murfino: (to the audience, an unauthorized prologue) Hot enough for you? They
say we got another week of heat wave. (as he wipes his brow) This play is called
Street Theater on account of it’s all about this bunch of lowlifes. Juicebums,
hopheads, weirdos, oddballs, queers—what you call your "artistic element." The
usual gutter crud you got to expect to contend with down here in Greenwich
Village.

(The stage lights come up as Murfino places the garbage can downstage left.
Jack, heavy leather, keys left, enters left, carrying an overly full plastic trash
bag. The ominous image used to promote S&M establishments, Jack's
geniality and good humor comes as a surprise to the uninitiated.)

Jack: (giving bag to Murfino) Here you go, Murfino.

Murfino: (investigating bag) What's this?

Jack: You forgot your lunch.

Murfino: Garbage! (emptying an assortment of rubbish into the garbage can,

filling it to overflowing) We gotta be this authentic?
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Jack: Won't be Christopher Street without it.

Murfino: (to the audience, referring to Jack) The very "element" of which we
were speaking.

Jack: Who me? Artistic? I guess you might say that. (displaying a heavily tattooed
arm) Sure, this body of mine is a walking museum.

Murfino: Since when do tattoos qualify as culture?

Jack: You haven't seen the latest addition to my collection. (to the audience)
This’ll interest you... (slowly unbuttoning his fly) ...it's a "multi-media" collage,
painstakingly combining an extremely graphic design with a found object of
which I'm inordinately fond-

Murfino: (scandalized) Put that away!

Jack: You don't want a private showing?

Murfino: We don't want no "K-Y jokes" in this theater.

Jack: (buttoning his fly) Your loss.

(Jack exits right as C.B., a politically incorrect lesbian enters right carrying
a signpost with signs reading: "Sheridan Square," "Christopher Street" and
"No Standing." Paternally maternal, C.B. styles herself "diesel dyke,"
dresses accordingly. She wears her hair in a DA, sports a Mets baseball cap,
bill to the back.)

Murfino: (to the audience) I'm here to see to it this show remains compatible to
you the general public. Which mean no pubic hair, no winking-and-giggling, no
in-jokes elbow-nudging you in the rib cage. (suggestively) You want winking and
giggling and pubic hair, later you stop by this bar I happen to be associated with.
Allegedly. (indicating left) Up the street, middle of the block. That's where your
degenerate behavior belongs─in a bar, where it's profitable.

C.B.: (to Murfino, placing the signpost downstage right) What are you telling
them? (to the audience) What's he been telling you?

Murfino: (caught) I'm...er...bidding them a cordial welcome to the 28th of June,

1969.

C.B.: (doubtful) Yeah?

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Murfino: We are attempting to depict here an historical event...a date destined to

live forever in the annals of anals. (referring to the audience) You want they
should acquire an erroneous impression?

C.B.: They already have one.

Murfino: So I'm setting them straight.

C.B.: (pulling a backdrop across upstage) Swell, just what we need─to be set
"straight."

(The backdrop represents Christopher Street, circa 1969. A patchwork

montage of Greenwich Village impressions, it depicts a jumble of images:
tenements, high-rises, the Women's House of Detention, the Jefferson Market
Court House, the storefront of Village Cigars, the display window of a sedate
antique shop, a slightly bent mens boutique, signs advertising Carr's,
Danny's, a fragment of the Mattachine Society's logo, etc.)

Murfino: (helping with the backdrop) Clearly you are unread and unawares of
Thorton Wilder whom I am emulating in this my introduction of them to our town
here so to speak. (to the audience) He was of your lavender leaning, Thorton
Wilder. Bet they never taught you that in school.

(Heather, a flower child, enters left carrying a fire hydrant painted a rainbow
of Da-Glo colors. Heather is a beaded and fringed recent convert to the
counter culture.)

C.B.: I was in that play. At Vocational High. The girl playing Emily got pregnant
so I had to go on in the part. (to the audience) You should have seen me. I wore
my mother's wedding dress and everything. Mom was so proud, she cried for a
week.

Murfino: You blame her? Her one and only chance to see you in it?

C.B.: You'd like me to break both your legs?... (without missing a beat, she is
transported into a sweet and gentle and extremely feminine Emily) ..."Good-by to
clocks ticking...and Mama's sunflowers...and food and coffee...and new ironed
dresses..."

Heather: That's beautiful.

C.B.: (embarrassed) Oh...yeah...well...

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Heather: Like, man, you're a poet.

C.B.: (blushing) Naw...

Murfino: (to Heather) What do you want?

Heather: Peace and love.

Murfino: Spare us the pinko party line.

Heather: (referring to the hydrant) They told me to bring you this.

C.B.: (indicating right) Put it over there, kid, next to the street sign. (exits left)

Murfino: (to Heather) Yeah, over there...give the dogs some selection. (double
take) Who messed up that fireplug?

Heather: (pleased with her handy work) Isn't it groovy?

Murfino: It's all covered with paint.

Heather: You never saw psychedelic before?

Murfino: Hydrants are supposed to be respectable. You know, rusty .

Heather: I sent it on a trip.

Murfino: You did this destruction?

Heather: Bringing beauty to the urban environment is my bag.

Murfino: You have defaced public property.

Heather: (patiently) Like, man, where have you been? This is the dawning of the
age of Aquarius, all property belongs to the public. (Exits right)

Murfino: (calling after Heather) Not when this city owns it!

(Seymour, an undercover vice cop, enters left. Disguised in the long hair and
tie-dyes of a hippie, Seymour is constabulary to the core.)

Murfino: (to the audience, indicating the hydrant) Look at that fireplug! What
happens we have a conflagration on this block? No self-respecting fireman's gonna
touch a pansy plug like that.
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Seymour: (pulling Murfino aside) Me and you, we gotta talk. Surreptitiously, if

you see my drift.

Murfino: (to the audience) Don't let Seymour here worry you, he only looks like
lowlife.

Seymour: (to the audience, removing his wig) I'm practicing a deception.

Murfino: (to the audience) He's undercover.

Seymour: (to the audience, flashing his badge) Vice squad, N.Y.P.D..

Murfino: (to the audience) Had you fooled, didn't he?

Seymour: (to the audience) Bet you thought I was an actual person.

Murfino: (to the audience) Seymour here specializes in "Convenience

Surveillance."

Seymour: (to the audience) Toilet Patrol.

Murfino: (to the audience) He's stationed behind the air vent in the "little boys
room" of the Sheridan Square I.R.T. subway station.

Seymour: (to the audience) Uptown side, second urinal to the left.

Murfino: (to the audience) You owe it to yourself to stop by and watch him
work─he's an inspiration.

Seymour: (to the audience) Sure...feel free...

(Jack enters right carrying the sign for the Stonewall)

Jack: (to Murfino, as he enters) Where do you want your sign?

Murfino: Where do you think? Over the door to my alleged bar.

Jack: How's it getting there?

Murfino: You're climbing up and hanging it.

Jack: Depends on what you're paying.

Murfino: Consider it a contribution to Gay History.

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Jack: I give at home.

Murfino: As a favor to me?

Jack: Me, do you a favor? (giving the sign to Murfino) You won't even allow me
past the door of that cesspool you operate.

Murfino: Because we cater to what you might call a "clientele."

Jack: Which includes me.

Seymour: It's Murfino's fault you don't look convincing?

Jack: You're saying I don't fit in?

Murfino: Get wise to yourself-

Seymour: -that black leather Jacket-

Murfino: -those biker's boots-

Seymour: -your general deportation-

Murfino: -you're neither fish nor fruit.

Jack: So what am I?

Seymour: Feloniously misrepresenting yourself as male.

Jack: (reaching for his fly) Want to take a gander at my credentials?

Murfino: How many times I got to tell you?! We don't want to see that.

Jack: Just so there isn't any confusion.

Seymour: Your normal queer is supposed to be highly detectable.

Jack: (baiting them) They are?

Murfino: It's part of Mother Nature's plan.

Jack: Is it?

Murfino: People prefer other people to be immediately recognizable-

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Seymour: -otherwise people can become nervous.

Jack: (to Seymour) I make you nervous?

Seymour: (nervous) Me? Nervous? No. Not at all.

Jack: How can I best improve my image?

Murfino: Invest in a pinkie ring.

Jack: It's that simple?

Seymour: There's lots more to it than that.

Jack: You sound like an authority.

Seymour: (modestly) I've given it some study.

Murfino: (a testimonial) When it comes to moral turpitude, Seymour here's your

man.

Jack: (to Seymour) Care to share your expertise?

Seymour: Give you some pointers?

Murfino: This is hardly the time or the place-

Jack: (to Seymour) I'm eager to learn.

Murfino: -what if a pedestrian should walk by?

Seymour: (to Jack) It isn't that easy. Abnormality takes full time concentration.

Jack: So I've noticed.

Seymour: It is not a path to be ventured upon lightly.

Jack: Funny, I might have thought otherwise.

Seymour: It all starts with the wrist.

Jack: How so?

Seymour: Your sexual malefactor has, between his arm and his hand, an absence
of... (he demonstrates) ...bone.
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Jack: Do we know why?

Murfino: Spineless fathers.

Jack: So since I have a... (displaying his fist) ...bone?

Seymour: You're at a serious disadvantage.

Jack: How else might I qualify?

Murfino: How much do you know about Broadway musicals?

Jack: Next to nothing.

Seymour: You handy around the kitchen?

Jack: Nope.

Murfino: How's your lisp.

Jack: Hardly proficient.

Seymour: You're a difficult case.

Jack: I've been told that before. I have an idea. Why don't we pick up a six-pack,
hop on my Harley and head over to my pad where we can advance my education
in private.

Seymour: You having an innuendo at my expense?

Jack: (mock innocence) Honestly, officer, I'm only offering you a chance to
become better acquainted with your handcuffs.

(C.B. enters left with a step unit representing a brownstone stoop which she
places left of upstage center.)

Seymour: (to Jack) Try any of that suggestive stuff with me, I'll rack your ass.

Jack: How about we toss for it?

Murfino: How about you hang my sign?

Jack: (to Murfino) Where's the ladder?

Seymour: You're a fairy─use your wings.

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Jack: (not camp) They're in the cleaners.

C.B.: (to Seymour) You casting aspersions at my buddy Jack?

Seymour: What's it to you, doll face?

C.B.: Maybe you should apologize.

Seymour: Maybe you should button your lip.

C.B.: Maybe you should-

Murfino: (warning) Seymour here is-

C.B.: (unimpressed) I know "what" he is. (slowly advancing on Seymour) Last

week, "Seymour here" stumbled half-crocked into Cookies, pushed his fat ass
between me and my sometimes fiancee Connie and suggested to her something on
the order of "What you dykes really need is the cock of a good man."

Seymour: (cock-of-the-walk) A fact of life.

C.B.: To which I took issue.

Seymour: (ashen) That was you?

C.B.: (sweetly) That was me─the butch with the broken beer bottle.

Seymour: Hey, babe, no offense...

C.B.: I'm only sorry you had to depart in such a hurry.

Seymour: What can I say? I'm a busy guy.

C.B.: (advancing on Seymour) What's your schedule like tonight?

Seymour: (backing slightly) I got prior commitments.

C.B.: You couldn't spare me a few minutes for a rematch?

Murfino: (blocking C.B.) We don't want no trouble on this street.

C.B. (to Seymour) What's the matter, pork chop, run out of aphorisms?

Jack: Forget it, C.B.

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Seymour: (to C.B.) Yeah, take a walk.

C.B.: (bypassing Murfino, advancing on Seymour) One round, Queensberry rules?

Seymour: (backing) I refuse to deck a person reputed to be of the opposite sex.

C.B.: (advancing) Unless you're married to her?

Seymour: (backing) Leave my homelife out of this.

Jack: (restraining C.B.) Forget it, it's not worth the hassle.

Seymour: (putting Murfino between himself and C.B.) It's rough stuff like this
which gives you lesbos such a bad name.

C.B.: So hand your badge and your gun to Murfino, we'll reinforce my stereotype.

Jack: (pulling C.B. away) It's not worth it, C.B.

Seymour: (to C.B.) One more step in my direction, you're on your way to the
Women's House of Detention.

C.B.: It'll be old home week─the joint's full of females who fight back.

(Jack maneuvers C.B. to an exit right.)

Murfino: (calling after Jack) What about my sign?!

Seymour: Jeez, anywhere you go anymore, you run into overly sensitive perverts.

Murfino: Ah, they got no gratitude.

Seymour: I only stopped by to inform you. Word's gone down at the precinct,
you're up for a raid tonight.

Murfino: (staggered at the thought) A raid?!

Seymour: Captain's getting lots of heat from the local killjoys.

Murfino: For which I pay off.

Seymour: Relax, the raid'll be strictly routine.

Murfino: Tell that to my partners in New Jersey.

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Seymour: We'll be in and out, no problem.

Murfino: This has to happen to me on a full-moon Friday night?

Seymour: Alert your better customers. Warn them to stay away.

Murfino: And completely kill my cash register? You tell the captain to hold off
with this raid till the last possible moment─give me a chance to drum up some
early business.

Seymour: Sure...no need for your whole night to be a bust.

(Murfino exits left with the Stonewall sign as Ceil, a street queen, enters
right. A vision of gutter glamour, Ceil is a blowzy drag with bird-seed breasts
and a heart of marabou. Busy cruising the passing traffic, Ceil doesn't notice
Seymour. Spotting the garbage can, she crosses to it and begins rummaging
through the rubbish, shopping for a new ensemble.)

Seymour: (to Ceil) Hey you!

Ceil: (deciding between a chenille bedspread and a shag rug) Talking to me?

Seymour: What do you think you're doing?

Ceil: Comparison shopping.

Seymour: That garbage is the personal possession of this street. It is not to be

removed. Never. By anyone.

Ceil: Really? So what's a girl supposed to wear?

(Donovan, apparently a pedestrian, enters left, crosses right.)

Ceil: (to Donovan) Hello, handsome, in the market for some hanky-panky?

(Donovan ignores Ceil, sees Seymour, pretends to window shop. Seymour

watches Donovan with professional interest.)

Ceil: (to Donovan) Psst, tall, dark and timid, buy me a drink, we can talk terms.

(In the stately saraband that passed for cruising in the prelib sixties,
Donovan continues to pretend to window-shop while watching Seymour out
of the corner of his eyes. Seymour, hoping to entrap Donovan pretends the
same.)
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Ceil: (to the audience, referring to Seymour & Donovan) Wouldn't you know it?
Mutual attraction strikes again. They want you to think they're window-shopping.
They can keep it up for hours. And they will. Round and round and round the
block, window after window after window, memorizing each and every item of
merchandise on display. And you wonder why faggots are so hung up on material
possessions.

(Donovan moves to another window, Seymour counters. They almost make

eye contact.)

Ceil: (to the audience) Don't you love it? They almost made eye contact. Two or
three more circuits around the block, they might even gather up the nerve to ask
each other for a light. Or the time of day. The preliminaries can take forever, the
sex they'll dispose of lickety-split.

(Seymour casually exits right hoping to lure Donovan.)

Ceil: (to Donovan) Let him go, honey, he ain't your type.

(Donovan ignores Ceil, exits right following Seymour.)

Ceil: (Calling after Donovan) I'm your type! I'll show you a much better time!!

(Sidney, in the closet, enters right, crosses left. Of middle age and advanced
paranoia, Sidney, terrified he might be recognised, wears a raincoat, collar
up, and dark glasses.)

Ceil: (blocking Sidney) A man of discerning taste! Which of these nifty numbers is
the real me? The chenille bedspread? Picture an evening dress...empire
waist...possibly a bow... or ... the shag rug...we're talking cocktail frock...micro-
mini...cinch belt-

Sidney: (recoiling) Out of my way!

Ceil: Basically I'm bashful myself─want a cheap date?

Sidney: (escaping Ceil) Away from me you...you...

Ceil: Ten bucks, you can call me anything.

(A horrified Sidney exits left.)

Ceil: (calling after Sidney) Five, I pretend we aren't even together! (to the
20

audience) Tonight isn't my night. Friday night never is. Any night never is.
(Draping herself in the bedspread) At least I'll be well dressed.

(Boom Boom, a black and proud transvestite, enters stage left with an
audible sigh. Clearly depressed, Boom Boom's fine feathers trail, her two
inch eye-lashes droop.)

Ceil: Hi ya, Boom Boom.

Boom Boom: (gloomily) Hi ya, Ceil.

Ceil: (concerned) What's wrong, girl?

Boom Boom: Mary, don't ask.

Ceil: You developed an aversion to sequins?

Boom Boom: Worse.

Ceil: They evicted you from the Port Authority Bus Terminal?

Boom Boom: Much worse.

Ceil: The security guard caught you sneaking out of Smiler's delicatessen with
your bra stuffed full of Entenmann's?

Boom Boom: Worser even still.

Ceil: (eagerly) Whatever can it be?

Boom Boom: I'd rather not discuss it. (to change the subject she busys herself with
the garment quandary) On you, the chenille.

Ceil: You think?

Boom Boom: (draping the chenille on Ceil) You don't have the legs for Mary
Quant.

Ceil: You do?

Boom Boom: Don't fidget. What do you want done with the bust?

Ceil: Perhaps a bow.

Boom Boom: Jackie exhausted the bow. Maybe a bunch of... (turning away in
21

tears) ...a bunch of violets.

Ceil: Boom Boom, hon, tell Ceil what's wrong. You can confide in me, really you
can.

Boom Boom: Promise you'll keep your mouth shut?

Ceil: (gleefully) It's that good! (catching herself) It's that bad?

Boom Boom: I mean it, Ceil, I don't want this spread around the streets.

Ceil: Cross my heart.

Boom Boom: I was hired.

Ceil: (stunned) Please? A job? Actual employment?

Boom Boom: Nine to five, no parole in sight.

Ceil: Doing what?

Boom Boom: Ruining my nails.

Ceil: What will Welfare say?

Boom Boom: They're highly disappointed in me.

Ceil: How could this calamity happen?

Boom Boom: Miss Witch at Unemployment dug up this Fourteenth Street Fagin
who runs a fabric sweatshop who's too cheap to afford the luxury of sexual
discrimination. He calls me "dearie." "You're late to work again, dearie, I'll have to
dock your wages. You have two hands, dearie, keep 'em both occupied. Don't
mutter, dearie, it isn't ladylike."

Ceil: You poor thing. (discarding the chenille) Who can concentrate on haute
couture (hot con-ter-e- a ) when one's own sister is in such dire distress.

Boom Boom: I'm a ruined woman.

Ceil: To me you'll always be a queen.

Boom Boom: In exile.

Ceil: Try to see the bright side of it.

22

Boom Boom: There isn't one.

Ceil: (a sudden realization) All the money you're making!

Boom Boom: Shush!

Ceil: We're rich!

Boom Boom: What do you mean "we," white woman?

Ceil: Just think of the vast implications of our sudden prosperity!

Boom Boom: Lower your voice.

Ceil: No more smooching up some stiff at the bar for the price of a beverage. No
more cash-and-carry carhopping at the entrance of the Holland Tunnel. Best of all,
now I won't have to con Little John into robbing a bank to pay for my sex change.

Boom Boom: Blab one word about this, you won't need an operation.

Ceil: Why all the secrecy?

Boom Boom: When I was broke, I could bring home tricks─what were they going
to steal? The sink? They already swiped that. Now that I'm a working woman, I
have sex, I get rolled.

Ceil: You couldn't be more choosy about who you pick up.?

Boom Boom: You be choosy, I'd rather make out. To be prepared, I went out today
and blew half my salary on medical supplies. Bandaids, splints, cinctures...thank
God I was a boy scout.

Ceil: You might call the emergency room at St. Vincent's...sort of put them on
alert.

Boom Boom: Oh for the good old days when I was an unemployed street person
and all my medicine cabinet contained was peroxide, Nair and A-200.

(Timothy, a new boy in town, enters right. Fresh faced and polite, Timothy is
very young and equally disoriented.)

Timothy: (shyly approaching Boom Boom) Pardon me, ma'am, is this Greenwich
(Gr ee n-witch) Village?
23

Ceil: (incredulous) "Ma'am?"

Boom Boom: (to Timothy) New in town?

Timothy: How can you tell?

Ceil: Gut instinct.

Timothy: I arrived this morning. From Oregon.

Boom Boom: (enraptured) You're a lumberjack!

Ceil: How thrilling.

Boom Boom: (to Timothy, fantasizing) I can see you now-

Ceil: -high in those Sierras-

Boom Boom: -topping that tall timber.

Timothy: Where I come from we don't have trees.

Ceil: (disappointed) You don't?

Boom Boom: No trees?

Timothy: I guess there used to be some, but they cut them all down to make paper
bags. Now mostly it's sand and wind and tumbleweeds-

Ceil: You're a cowboy!

Boom Boom: How romantic.

Ceil: (to Timothy, fantasizing) I can see you now-

Boom Boom: -riding that range-

Ceil: -breaking those broncos.

Timothy: We don't have any of them anymore, either.

Boom Boom: (disillusioned) No broncos.

Ceil: Figures.
24

Timothy: I'm studying Motel Management at Central Christian. Or I was.

Boom Boom: (disapproving) You're a dropout.

Timothy: (flattered) I am? Does that make me a hippie?

Ceil: (disdainful) We hope not.

Boom Boom: We disapprove of hippies.

Ceil: And long hair.

Boom Boom: All that free love-

Ceil: -cuts into profits.

Timothy: I didn't mean to offend you.

Boom Boom: (relenting) You didn't.

Ceil: You couldn't.

Boom Boom: (taking Timothy by the arm) We like you.

Timothy: You do?

Ceil: (taking Timothy by his other arm) Absolutely.

Boom Boom: All New Yorkers-

Ceil: -take an active interest in recent arrivals.

Timothy: You don't even know me.

Boom Boom: (trying to pull Timothy away from Ceil) That's easily remedied.

Ceil: (holding firm) I know a much nicer doorway.

Boom Boom: Doorway? How typical.

Ceil: (trying to pull Timothy away from Boom Boom) So where are you dragging
him off to? The trucks?

Boom Boom: (holding firm) Let loose of him, you tramp!

25

Ceil: I saw him first, Miss Demeanor!

Boom Boom: (a tug of war) He's mine!

Ceil: Mine!!

Boom Boom: Mine!!!

Timothy: Am I being mugged?

Ceil: You wanta?

Boom Boom: (glaring at Ceil) Such a kidder.

Timothy: I don't have any money.

Ceil: We aren't after you for your money, honey.

Boom Boom: I'm Boom Boom.

Ceil: I'm Ceil.

Timothy: My mom warned me not to give my name to strangers.

Boom Boom: We seem strange?

Timothy: No...I...er... (a hunch) ...are you-?

Ceil: (demurely) Are we "what?"

Timothy: (embarrassed) Naw...never mind.

Boom Boom: Don't be shy-

Ceil: -ask away.

Timothy: Are you...are you two ladies...whores?

Boom Boom: I'm a lady whore─Ceil's pure trash.

Timothy: (truly impressed) For-real females of the evening.

Ceil: (glaring at Boom Boom) Depending on the time of day.

Timothy: Mom also warned me about you.

26

Boom Boom: How helpful of her.

Ceil: (to Timothy) And you couldn't wait to come looking for us.

Timothy: Beg pardon, ma'am, but I came looking for Greenwich (Gr ee n-witch)
Village.

Boom Boom: This is it.

Timothy: (disappointed) This? (looking around) I'm not sure what I expected. I
know I'm not ready for...well...for all the buildings...and the buses...and...

Ceil: You were expecting maybe depravity?

Timothy: Is that the same as "Vice Running Rampant?"

Boom Boom: Mom sure has a way with words.

Ceil: (explaining to Timothy) That's what the buildings are for-

Boom Boom: -they contain the "Vice."

Timothy: (in awe) They do?

Ceil: And the buses and the cabs-

Boom Boom: -carry all the people from where they live-

Timothy: (catching on) -down here to the buildings.

Ceil: Cause if they had to walk-

Boom Boom: -they'd be too tired to "Run Rampant."

Timothy: If I wander around, I'll find what I'm looking for?

Ceil: (motherly) You wander around-

Boom Boom: -it'll find you.

Timothy: (eager) It will?

Ceil: Count on it.

Timothy: Guess maybe I should be moseying along.

27

Boom Boom: Have fun.

Timothy: (a new idea) "Vice" is supposed to be fun?

Ceil: At first.

Timothy: Hot damn! The way mom talked it down, I knew it had to be something
special.

(Timothy exits left in search of forbidden fruits.)

Boom Boom: (referring to Timothy as she checks her make up in the mirror of her
compact) I used to be that young.

Ceil: I still am.

Michael: (off-stage left) ...so I said to my psychiatrist, I hate myself.

Donald: (off-stage left) What did he say?

(Michael and Donald, the boys in the band, enter left, cross right. Ostensibly
out for a walk and a talk, they covertly cruise. Michael and Donald are
clean-cut, sanitized, as slick and shiny as processed cheese. They wear
chinos, penny loafers and sweaters tied around their shoulders.)

Michael: (as they enter) He said I have every reason to hate myself.

Donald: (skeptical) That's a breakthrough.

Michael: You have no idea how good I feel about how bad I feel.

Donald: You're sure this shrink knows what he's doing?

Michael: This man has a seventy-eight percent cure rate.

Donald: Have you actually met any of his...?

Michael: Successes? He won't allow me to meet them. Not until I have myself
under psychosexual self-restraint.

Donald: He's afraid if they encounter you-?

Michael: -they might relapse.

Donald: You're sick.

28

Michael: What do you think I've been trying to tell you?

(Michael and Donald exit right.)

Ceil: (referring to Michael and Donald) There they go-

Boom Boom: -Michael and Donald.

Ceil: The boys in the band.

Boom Boom: What ever happened to Emory?

Ceil: (dish) Didn't you hear? He ran off with a married dentist from the Bronx.
They opened a pet store in Miami.

Jordan: (off-stage right) ...you're radically misinformed!

Gordon: (off-stage right) You're politically naive!

(Jordan, a student radical, and Gordon, a new-left liberal, enter right, cross
left, deep in dispute. Humorlessly earnest, Jordan is pinned with a spectrum
of buttons advocating every possible political cause except his own. Jordan
wears baggy corduroys and scruffy desert boots. Ambiguously easygoing,
Gordon is more orthodox in his unorthodoxy. Gordon wears a rumpled tweed
sports Jacket and smokes a pipe.)

Jordan: (as they enter) Read history. Only first read Chairman Mao.

Gordon: There's only one viable route to personal freedom-

Jordan: -overthrowing the system.

Gordon: -integrating ourselves into the mainstream.

Jordan: (contemptuously) Reformer.

Gordon: (pityingly) Pawn of the Kremlin.

Jordan: Red baiter.

Gordon: Dupe.

Jordan: (stiffening as he sees Boom Boom and Ceil) Gordon!

Gordon: (frozen) What?

29

Jordan: Don't look behind you.

Gordon: What is it, Jordan? Republicans?

Jordan: Worse. (with repugnance) Men dressed as women.

Gordon: (sneaking a peek) How can you tell?

Jordan: Their elbows.

(Boom Boom and Ceil attempt to minimize their elbows.)

Gordon: Disgusting.

Jordan: Revolting. (for Boom Boom and Ceil's benefit) Transvestites are the
inevitable by-product of decadent capitalist imperialism.

Boom Boom: (to Ceil, a stage whisper) The word's out! They know I'm working.

Gordon: (to Jordan) In a socially responsible democracy, cross-dressers will be

institutionalized.

Jordan: Along with everyone over thirty.

(Jordan and Gordon righteously exit left.)

Ceil: Over thirty!

Boom Boom: (calling after Jordan) Come back and say that to my face. Miss
Thing!

Ceil: I tell you, Boom Boom, this night portends not at all well.

Boom Boom: I thought you were off Seconals.

Ceil: Seriously, I have a premonition.

Boom Boom: So have a blood test.

(Sidney enters left, starts to cross right, stops, turns on the audience in an
advanced state of paranoia.)

Sidney: (to the audience) I know what you're thinking and you're wrong. I don't
frequent this street. I don't frequent any street. I'm innocently...er...walking my
dog. Where is my dog? A good question. After seriously intellectual
30

investigation─M.A., Yale─investigation both empirical and dialectical─critical

analysis was my major─I've resolved this problem to my complete satisfaction. I
have no dog. I do however have an allergy to dogs. As my allergy has four feet and
as a dog has four feet, I can be said to be walking the essence of Rover if not the
fact. I don't expect you to comprehend my logic, you've been denied my vast
educational advantages. Suffice it to say, dog or no, I am definitely not "cruising."
That would imply I am a homosexual, which, as a hypothesis, is ludicrous. Yale
men don't suck cock. Not with competence. (exits right)

Boom Boom: (to Ceil, referring to Sidney) What did the closet queen say?

Ceil: Something about the Princeton rub.

Boom Boom: I have noticed a marked deterioration in the standard of faggot on

this street.

Ceil: Tell me about it. Wherever one looks, one sees essential values disappearing
faster than the flip.

Boom Boom: The times we live in.

Ceil: They give one pause.

Boom Boom: (with marked solemnity) You go uptown to the mortuary today?

Ceil: (a lump in her throat) The memorial service?

Boom Boom: I couldn't face it.

Ceil: Me neither.

Boom Boom and Ceil: (woefully) Judy.

Ceil: I'd rather remember her the way she was.

Boom Boom: Yeah, "fucked up"─not laid out.

Ceil: (gravely) They bury her tomorrow.

Boom Boom: Ferncliff Cemetery-

Ceil: -Hartsdale, N.Y.

Boom Boom: I sent flowers.

31

Ceil: I sent a dozen Bennies.

Boom Boom: How thoughtful.

Ceil: She meant so much to me.

Boom Boom: To all of us.

Ceil: The Guardian Angel of the gender misconstrued.

Boom Boom: The drag queen's bread and butter.

Ceil: All is not lost.

Boom Boom: Meaning?

Ceil: She had a son.

Boom Boom: So?

Ceil: What better home life to make a faggot?

Boom Boom: Faggots aren't made, they're happenstance. That's why the quality's
so inconsistent.

Ceil: (wistfully) He could've carried on the tradition, taught himself to lip sync.

Boom Boom: Maybe there's hope for Liza.

Ceil: Get real.

Jack: (off-stage left) ...so last night I cleaned the valves, but this morning it started
again-

C.B.: (off-stage left) Sounds bad.

(Jack and C.B. enter left.)

Jack: How bad?

C.B.: Don't want to speculate, not until I look it over.

Boom Boom: (to C.B.) Hi ya, C.B.

Ceil: (to Jack, overlapping) Hi ya, Stud.

32

C.B.: (to Boom Boom and Ceil, overlapping) How you doing, girls?

Jack: (to Boom Boom) How's tricks?

Ceil: (pushing herself between Boom Boom and Jack) Me and Boom Boom have
become persons of affluence.

Boom Boom: Didn't I warn you to shut up about that?

Jack: (cozying up to Boom Boom) Come into an inheritance?

Boom Boom: Already they're after me for my money.

(Seymour enters left, crosses right.)

Ceil: (as Seymour enters) Look who's back.

Boom Boom: He's cute. (trying to block Seymour) You're cute.

C.B.: He's a cop.

(Seymour pushes past Boom Boom, exits right.)

Ceil: (calling after Seymour) Hey, Mr. Policeman, want to play post office?

(Donovan enters left, crosses right following Seymour.)

Boom Boom: (to Ceil) Have you no shame? Consorting with the... (to Donovan, as
he passes) ...hi ya, big fellah, want a quickie?

Ceil: Relax your chemise.

Jack: (referring to Donovan) He's got the hots for Lily Law.

(Donovan exits right.)

C.B.: (calling after Donovan) You're making a big mistake!

Boom Boom: (overlapping) You'll be sorry!

Jack: (overlapping) We'll visit you in the tombs!

Ceil: With our luck, we'll be in the next cell.

C.B.: Used to be we were only illegal at election time.

33

Boom Boom: (gleefully) Remember when they raided the Oak Bar of the Plaza
Hotel?

Jack: Wasn't that a riot?

Ceil: (to the audience) There they sat-

C.B.: (to the audience) -some of this country's most prominent piss-elegant
pansies-

Ceil: (to the audience) -blissfully sipping their martinis-

Jack: (to the audience) -oblivious that the boys in blue had infiltrated the potted
palms.

Boom Boom: (to the audience) The cops rounded up three senators-

C.B.: (overlapping) -a perennial presidential candidate-

Jack: (overlapping) -half the Joint Chiefs of Staff-

Ceil: (overlapping) -the nameless Secretary General of an equally nameless

international organization headquartered on the East River.

C.B.: (overlapping) Plus a plethora of playwrights.

Boom Boom: (overlapping) A tangle of hair dressers.

Jack: (overlapping) Sundry Southern novelists.

Ceil: (overlapping) Ribbon clerks by the gross.

C.B.: Not to mention call boys-

Ceil: -kept boys-

Jack: -tennis pros-

Boom Boom: -and Marines.

Ceil: (to the audience) Everybody but Gore Vidal.

C.B.: We all know who's behind the raids.

Boom Boom: Fanny Spellman?

34

Jack: She's too busy waging her war in Vietnam-

Ceil: -to worry her beads over us.

Boom Boom: It's the real estate interests.

C.B.: They want to clear us queers out of the Village-

Jack: -to make way for the hetero high-rises.

Ceil: Whoever's behind it-

Boom Boom: -they can't keep shoving it to us.

Jack: Who's gonna stop them?

C.B.: We could.

Ceil: "We" who?

Boom Boom: Us .

C.B.: There's enough of us.

Boom Boom: If we all band together-

Ceil: Together?

Jack: You can't find two faggots who agree on the recipe for cheese fondue.

Boom Boom: Wouldn't it be beautiful?

C.B.: An army of lovers.

Ceil: I can already hear the bitching.

(Timothy enters right, crosses left.)

Boom Boom: (to Timothy) Find your vice yet?

Timothy: I'm still looking.

Ceil: Losing your innocence isn't all that easy.

Timothy: (exchanging a quick look with Jack) I'm beginning to realize.

35

(Timothy exits left. Jack watches him.)

C.B.: Jack. Jack ?

Jack: (distracted by Timothy) Huh?

C.B.: (amused) You want me to look at that carburetor or what?

Jack: What?...oh...yeah...sure...

(They all ad lib goodbys, as Jack and C.B. exit right.)

Boom Boom: (referring to Jack and C.B) Such a nice couple.

Ceil: Pity they're incompatible.

(Murfino enters left.)

Murfino: (to Boom Boom and Ceil) My two most favorite customers.

Boom Boom: (to Ceil) He talking to us?

Murfino: What you doing hanging around out here?

Ceil: Giving the neighborhood a bad name.

Murfino: The pavement's no place for two classy types like you.

Boom Boom: We're engaged in community outreach for the junior league.

Murfino: Your smiling faces are sorely missed at the Stonewall.

Ceil: You threw us out.

Boom Boom: He threw you out.

Ceil: Somebody slipped something in my drink.

Boom Boom: We suspect it might have been alcohol.

Ceil: Which hardly seems possible, seeing where we were drinking.

Murfino: You two crack me up.

Boom Boom: The feeling's mutual.

36

Murfino: How you fixed for cash?

Ceil: Offering a loan?

Murfino: You have the price of a drink, I might be willing to let bygones be
bygones.

Boom Boom: Too bad we can't afford your generosity.

Ceil: (to Boom Boom) Sure we can!

Boom Boom: (warning) Ceil.

Ceil: (to Murfino) We're rolling in momentary plenty.

Murfino: You got dough? (arms open wide) Come home, all is forgotten.

Boom Boom: (to Ceil) I'm not warning you again.

Ceil: (to Murfino, eyeing Boom Boom) Maybe later.

Murfino: Later could be too late.

Boom Boom: (suspicious) What's going down?

Murfino: Lately, we're attracting an early crowd. Very early. Very attractive.
They're all asking for you.

Boom Boom: (to Murfino) If you've got a crowd what do you want with us?

Murfino: Are you maligning my magnanimity?

Boom Boom: I'm skeptical.

Murfino: I'm hurt.

Ceil: I'm thirsty.

Murfino: I'll see you later. As long as you're early. (exits left)

Ceil: You heard him, Boom Boom, they're all asking for us.

Boom Boom: Fat chance.

Ceil: You know what we need? We need for you to buy me a drink.
37

Boom Boom: I refuse to pay Murfino a door charge for the privilege of sitting in
filth and squalor when I get all I want of that at home for free.

Ceil: Filth and squalor, my tush.

Boom Boom: Precisely.

Ceil: One little drinkie.

Boom Boom: I'll take you to Danny's.

Ceil: All that corduroy?

Boom Boom: The Cherry Lane.

Ceil: I don't have a penny for my loafers.

Boom Boom: Carr's?

Ceil: When they push me there in a wheelchair.

Boom Boom: Julius's?

Ceil: You got to be kidding.

Boom Boom: Why not.

Ceil: They don't allow "ladies" in Julius's.

Boom Boom: They can't keep us out.

Ceil: Tell that to Bruno the bouncer.

Boom Boom: We've never tried.

Ceil: We aren't stupid.

Boom Boom: There has to be some way...

Ceil: Who wants to stand around watching a bunch of crewcut sissies in

lettermen's Jackets belch beer and dish opera?

Boom Boom: ...some way for you and I to slip in undetected.

Ceil: We'd be in mortal danger. Nobody's more lethal than a queen who thinks
38

she's passing.

Boom Boom: Give me your eye liner.

Ceil: (digging in her purse) Why?

Boom Boom: You'll see.

Ceil: (giving "eyeliner" to Boom Boom) It isn't exactly Elizabeth Arden.

Boom Boom: An indelible laundry marker?

Ceil: I cry a lot.

Boom Boom: (brandishing the marker) With this we infiltrate Julius's.

Ceil: How?

Boom Boom: We have to butch it up, right?

Ceil: Right.

Boom Boom: We draw clefts on our chins, nobody'll notice.

Ceil: I love it!

Boom Boom: (giving marker back to Ceil) Do me first. (as Ceil complies) I said
"cleft," not cleavage!

Ceil: Sorry. Force of habit.

(Seymour enters left.)

Seymour: (to Boom Boom and Ceil) Having fun, girls?

Ceil: Depends on what you have in mind.

Seymour: (flashing his badge) Vice squad, N.Y.P.D.

Ceil: I'm not up to a squad tonight.

Seymour: Don’t give me any lip!

Ceil: How do you feel about tongue?

39

Boom Boom: Let's get out of here.

Seymour: Let's see your identification.

Boom Boom: I left it in my other purse. (to Ceil, pleading) Come on , Ceil.

Seymour: I could run you both in for impersonating women.

Ceil: You know women who look like this?

Boom Boom: (grabbing Ceil by the arm) That's it, Miss Mouth!

(Boom Boom drags Ceil to an exit right as Donovan enters left. Donovan
pretends to windowshop.)

Seymour: (carefully approaching Donovan) Hot tonight.

Donovan: Sure am.

Seymour: The weather.

Donovan: Oh. Yeah. Muggy.

Seymour: Me, too.

Donovan: Muggy?

Seymour: Hot.

(Heather enters right carrying a stick of incense and a bouquet of ragtaggle

daisies.)

Heather: (to Donovan) Far out, dig it, what's happening, man?

Donovan: (guiltily moving away from Seymour) I don't have any spare change.

Heather: (offering Donovan a daisy) Like if you're not part of the solution, you're
part of the problem.

Donovan: (tossing Heather a coin) Here. Go away.

Heather: (insulted) A dime? Flower power to you too. (Crossing to Seymour) Far
out, dig it, what's-

Seymour: (through gritted teeth) You heard him, go away .

40

Heather: Tune in, turn on, drop out.

Seymour: Make a fast fade.

Heather: (giving Seymour a daisy) All you need is love-

Seymour: (sarcastically) -and strawberry fields forever.

Heather: Cross my palm with folding money, I'll tell your fortune.

Seymour: (under his breath) Your scam's endangering my score.

Heather: When were you born? No, let me guess. You're not what you pretend to
be, so you must be...must be a Capricorn.

Seymour: (impressed) Hey, that's pretty good.

Heather: (in a trance) The big plans you and your superiors have for later tonight?

Seymour: Who told you about-?!

Heather: The stars know everything.

Seymour: So what are they saying about later tonight?

Heather: (in a trance) Your expectations of easy success-

Seymour: Yeah?

Heather: (in a trance) -will be adversely thwarted by forces hitherto unforseen.

Seymour: Beat it. You heard me, scram .

Heather: Give me back my daisy. Your karma would wilt a cactus. (Exits left)

Seymour: (to Donovan) This astrology stuff, anything in it?

Donovan: Don't be a chump.

Seymour: Yeah.

Donovan: That makes two of us.

Seymour: What?
41

Donovan: (husky voiced) "Hot."

Seymour: (remembering) Oh...yeah..(Huskier voiced)..sure seems so.

Donovan: So?

Seymour: So?

Michael: (off-stage left) -so it's all my mother's fault, which is all my father's fault,
which is all my mother's fault.

Donald: (off-stage left) Grow up, Michael, forgive and forget.

(Seymour and Donovan again move apart as Michael and Donald enter left,
cross right.)

Michael: (as they enter) Thanks to my deep and abiding Catholicism, I know that
God, in His infinite mercy, will damn both my parents to eternal perdition for
making me queer.

Donald: (ironically) That must be a consolation.

Michael: Why do you refuse to deal with how miserable you are?

Donald: I'm as happy as the next person.

Michael: That's a very selfish attitude.

Donald: Because I'm not miserable?

Michael: We're all in this together, Donald, we should all be equally wretched.

(Michael and Donald exit right.)

Seymour: (crossing back to Donovan) Am I ever horny.

Donovan: I am intimate with the condition of which you speak.

Seymour: So?

Donovan: So?

Jordan: (off-stage right) -so no more street cruising, no more bars, no more glory
holes.
42

Gordon: (off-stage right) You're taking the fun out of it.

(Seymour and Donovan again move apart as Jordan and Gordon enter right,
cross left.)

Jordan: (as they enter) I'm only taking the sex out of it, which is small enough
price to pay for the advancement of mankind.

Gordon: I'm willing to concede that sexual congress can prove contrary to the
democratic process, but-

Jordan: Same-sex affectional preference is strictly a political position─it must

never be permitted to degenerate into pleasure.

Gordon: We probably need a new set of government guidelines that guarantee

equal access.

Jordan: Promiscuity is the opiate of the masses.

Gordon: Not the way I heard it.

(Jordan and Gordon exit left.)

Seymour: (to Donovan, hand in pocket) Where were we?

Donovan: (crossing back to Seymour) You were about to make a pass.

Seymour: You first.

Donovan: After you.

Seymour: My seven-inch, thick headed, blue-veined, throbbing joint's about to

shoot its creamy load.

Donovan: My gargantuan piece of uncut meat is dripping joy juice all over my
huge, hairy balls.

Seymour: So?

Donovan: So?

Seymour & Donovan: (flashing badges) - so you're under arrest!

Donovan: You mean-?!

43

Seymour: (simultaneously) You're a-?!

Donovan: How embarrassing.

Seymour: How disconcerting.

Donovan: (introducing himself) Donovan, Manhattan South.

Seymour: Seymour, Sixth Precinct.

Donovan: You're one hell of a good decoy.

Seymour: You're no slouch yourself. That "gargantuan" bit─nice touch.

Donovan: It's a recent addition to my repertoire.

Seymour: Where'd you pick it up?

Donovan: The wife reads.

Seymour: I envy you.

Donovan: Use it. She's got plenty more where that came from.

Seymour: Thanks, I just might give it a try.

Donovan: I was counting on you to make my quota.

Seymour: There's a raid on tonight for the Stonewall. You're welcome to join in.

Donovan: Generally I work solo.

Seymour: I prefer the individual touch.

Donovan: It's more personal.

Seymour: I already logged my quota. Down in the subway.

Donovan: I can't work the toilets. I'm claustrophobic.

Seymour: Fishing's great. You stick out your rod and reel 'em in. One cocksucker
almost copped my load before I could cuff him.

Donovan: You're supposed to let them finish, it's evidence.

Seymour: There's a limit to my stamina.

44

Donovan: I commiserate with you. The wife's starting to complain.

Seymour: Explain to her it's all in the line of duty.

Donovan: She claims duty begins at home.

Seymour: Women─they're never satisfied.

(Jack and C.B. enter right and cross left. They don't notice Seymour who
hides behind Donovan to avoid C.B.)

Jack: (as they enter) You're telling me it's terminal.

C.B.: (wiping her hands on an oil rag) Did I say that? Jack, as your friend and
your mechanic, you gotta trust me─your Harley will live.

(Jack and C.B. split up. C.B. exits left, Jack exits right.)

Donovan: (disgusted) This place is crawling with queers.

Seymour: Last week I collared my own nephew.

Donovan: You took him in?

Seymour: What do you think I am? His father paid me not to.

Donovan: (taken aback) You accept gratuities?

Seymour: I figure I earn it.

Donovan: This is serious business.

Seymour: This is lucrative business. Take what the mob pays off, add what the old
aunties slip you for not incarcerating them, include what their employers give you
for reporting their names to the personnel department─a guy can make a decent
living.

Donovan: You seem not to appreciate that you and I are indispensable to the
survival of Western Civilization as we know it.

Seymour: We are?

Donovan: We both know what caused the decline and fall of the Roman Empire.

Seymour: I don't get much chance to read newspapers.

45

Donovan: I'm talking ancient history.

Seymour: We didn't get any of that at St. Sebastian's. The nuns tried to protect us
from bad influences.

Donovan: If it weren't for us, they'd overrun the whole country.

Seymour: Romans?

Donovan: Homos. Everywhere.

Seymour: More money for us. If it weren't for faggots, we could end up assigned
to a crime unit. I didn't become a cop to consort with common criminals.

Donovan: (quoting from a F.B.I. training manual of the period) "Homosexuals

represent a threat to the community in that when they commit suicide jumping
from buildings, they sometimes hit passers-by."

Seymour: (moving back from the building) They do?

Donovan: I have that directly from a confederate of mine in the F.B.I.

Seymour: (a confidence) J. Edgar Hoover, he's a fag.

Donovan: Who told you that?

Seymour: A cabbie.

Donovan: Ah, what do the fucking cabbies know? Next they'll be saying Rock
Hudson is queer.

(Timothy enters right as Sidney enters left. Sidney and Donovan blend into
the shadows to watch as Timothy approaches Sidney.)

Timothy: (to Sidney) Excuse me, sir-?

Sidney: (reaching for his lighter) I smoke too much. As a bona fide member of the
intelligentsia, it's expected of me. You, conversely, are without credentials─
(lighting his lighter) ─you shouldn't smoke.

Timothy: I don't.

Sidney: You asked me for a light.

46

Timothy: No, I didn't.

Sidney: (looking at his watch) Precisely 11:13.

Timothy: I wasn't asking for the time.

Sidney: ( confused ) You don't want a light, you don't want the time...what kind of
a pickup is this?

Timothy: Pickup?

Sidney: Your initial approach leaves much to be desired.

Timothy: I was only wondering if-

Sidney: There are principles involved here, respected rituals.

Timothy: Sorry.

Sidney: "Sorry?" You're "sorry?" You trample all over time-honored tribal customs
and you expect me to accept a simple apology?

Timothy: I'm not sure I know what you're talking about.

Sidney: You have so much to learn.

Timothy: About what?

Sidney: Arousing my prurient interest.

Timothy: (not understanding) Pardon?

Sidney: That. Courtesy isn't erotic. And neither is your wardrobe.

Timothy: What's wrong with my clothes?

Sidney: Unbutton the top of that shirt.

Timothy: You're treating me like a...a...

Sidney: You're an object.

Timothy: I am not.

Sidney: Of desire.
47

Timothy: (flattered) I am?

Sidney: However transitory.

Timothy: I'm attractive?

Sidney: You will be as soon as you comply with my instructions. (as Timothy un-
buttons a button) One more button. (Timothy complies) The undershirt is
completely unsuitable.

Timothy: I put it on clean this morning.

Sidney: What style shorts are you wearing? No, never mind, I shudder to think.
The sleeves, roll them up.

Timothy: (rolling up his sleeves) Then may I ask a question?

Sidney: (ignoring him) Tight even rolls, each about three quarters of an inch.

Timothy: I feel kind of exposed.

Sidney: (appreciating the effect) Yes...much better...the biceps could stand some
nourishment...the chest is amusing in its lack of pretension.

Timothy: (irritated) Look, mister-

Sidney: -the trousers are hopeless. Lower them so they rest on your pelvis.

Timothy: My pants stay right where they are.

Sidney: That, ultimately, is the prerogative of the dirty old man.

Timothy: Is that what you are?

Sidney: Figuratively speaking. Although, when it comes to cleanliness, I'm often

accused of compulsion.

Timothy: Do you always wear sunglasses at night?

Sidney: I have a penchant for anonymity. I'd introduce myself, but I'm vaguely
eminent. I wouldn't want to intimidate you.

Timothy: I'd introduce myself, but my mom warned me not to─ (taking the
plunge) ─my name's Timothy.
48

Sidney: Your name is Tony.

Timothy: No, it isn't.

Sidney: Tricks are called Tony. Or Angelo. On occasion I've had the pleasure of a
José.

Timothy: What's wrong with Timothy?

Sidney: It lacks the necessary brutishness.

Timothy: It's my name.

Sidney: Obstinate, aren't you? I like that. I'm willing to compromise on "Tim"─as
long as you're ethnic.

Timothy: I'm part Scandinavian.

Sidney: That's not quite what I had in mind.

Timothy: Maybe you should find somebody else.

Sidney: You talk too much. After exhaustive research in the field, I've come to the
conclusion, if they're inarticulate, they do better in bed.

Timothy: (interested) Whose bed?

Sidney: Not so eager. Trade remains passive.

Timothy: Is that what I am? "Trade?"

Sidney: Perhaps not quite as "rough" as one might wish.

Timothy: And I remain "passive?"

Sidney: Nonreciprocal.

Timothy: That doesn't sound like fun.

Sidney: It isn't meant to. Not for you.

Timothy: I was told otherwise.

Sidney: You were misinformed.

49

Timothy: I don't get anything out of it?

Sidney: You're young. No...please...I'd rather not know "how" young─I would hate
to discover you're too old.

Timothy: Too old for what?

Sidney: For us to have a furtive encounter.

Timothy: Furtive?

Sidney: Meaningful . Which it may well be, in it's own shoddy way.

Timothy: I'm not as innocent as you might think.

Sidney: Do us both a favor.

Timothy: Sure.

Sidney: Downplay your sophistication. And while you're at it, you could be a
smidgen more surly.

Timothy: Surly?

Sidney: Scowl. Curl that hairless upper lip into a sneer.

Timothy: (embarrassed) Naw...

Sidney: The element of danger is essential.

Timothy: I don't know how to sneer.

Sidney: You're making this very difficult.

Timothy: I only stopped you to ask a question.

Sidney: (anticipating the question) Voraciously "French"─receptively "Greek."

Timothy: What?

Sidney: The answer to your question.

Timothy: No, it isn't.

Sidney: (puzzled) We seem to be at cross-purposes.

50

Timothy: That's what I've been trying to tell you.

Sidney: (a frightening thought) You are "out," aren't you?

Timothy: Out where?

Sidney: You're uninitiated?

Timothy: I guess.

Sidney: Have I been recklessly imprudent?

Timothy: (insinuating) Are you a...

Sidney: (affronted) Certainly not.

Timothy: Where are they then?

Sidney: Who?

Timothy: (exasperated) The fairies.

Sidney: At the bottom of their gardens.

Timothy: No, you know, the "pansies."

Sidney: Make up your mind, are you "in" or "out?"

Timothy: I'm trying to find out where they keep the "sissies."

Sidney: First you present yourself as trade, then you're straight, now suddenly the
pins start to fly and look who's competition. You're beginning to exhaust me.

Timothy: You're pretty hard work yourself.

Sidney: What is it you want?

Timothy: I'm looking for a faggot.

Sidney: Where did you lose him?

Timothy: I didn't.

Sidney: He isn't good enough for you.

51

Timothy: Who isn't?

Sidney: None of them. Look at yourself, wandering the streets, searching for him.
Does he care? He doesn't care. We both know where he is right now.

Timothy: Where?

Sidney: He's cheating on you.

Timothy: Who is?

Sidney: You can't even remember his name.

Timothy: I think you've confused me with somebody else.

Sidney: You can't remember your lover's name and I'm confused?

Timothy: I don't have a lover.

Sidney: That was fast. No, you needn't explain. I'm conversant with you callow
youth.

Timothy: I came here because my...because I was under the impression this was
where you find the men who molest young boys.

Sidney: I never touched you!

Timothy: I never said you did.

Sidney: That's what you're really after, isn't it? You want to corrupt me!

Timothy: I was hoping for the reverse.

Sidney: (grabbing Timothy by the arm) Everywhere I go, there you are, luring me
up some anonymous alley with your luridly supple body, tempting me to tearoom
indiscretions with your taut thighs, provoking me in nameless perversions with
your prepubescent succulence.

Timothy: (trying to ease free) Maybe you're right...maybe I'm not ethnic enough.

Sidney: (holding firm) If it weren't for you, I'd have a home, faithful pets, the
requisite pair of children, a dutiful wife─I could be a normal, useful, productive
member of society.
52

Timothy: What's keeping you?

Sidney: (tightening his grip) You are! Why can't you leave me alone?!

Timothy: Let go of my arm and I will.

Sidney: So you can go chasing after him?

Timothy: Who?

Sidney: Get 'em all, morning, noon and night, seven days a week, fifty-two weeks
a year...only when you finally do wake up, late some afternoon, ninety percent of
the surface of your body covered with hickies, don't come running back to me.

Timothy: I don't even know you.

Sidney: You never did. None of you even tried. Did it ever occur to you that I
might have feelings?

Timothy: So do I.

Sidney: My friends all warned me about you. "Sidney," they said, "he's a selfish,
self-serving... (releasing Timothy) ...why am I telling you this? You're not a
bartender, this isn't a bar. That's where you'll find what you're looking for. At the
bar. They're all sitting there, waiting for you. All the sad young men.

Timothy: (at last) Which bar?

Sidney: Any bar.

Timothy: Thanks. (rapidly exits left)

Sidney: (calling after Timothy) "Thanks?" That's it? That's all you have to say for
yourself?

Donovan: (to Seymour) You entrap the closet case, I'll go after the kid.

(Donovan exits left after Timothy.)

Seymour: (approaching Sidney) Got a match?

Sidney: Aren't you a relief. (lighting Seymour's cigarette) It's comforting to meet
somebody who still cares about the niceties.
53

Seymour: Hot tonight.

Sidney: (appreciating) Yes, perfect, you're much more my type. The young man
who left so unexpectantly, he wasn't right for me. He never understood me.

(Heather enters right, stands back watching.)

Seymour: So?

Sidney: So what?

Seymour: So step around the corner and I'll show you my gargantuan piece.

Sidney: A provocative proposition.

Heather: (coming between Sidney and Seymour) -so far out, dig it, what's
happening, man? (gives daisy to Sidney)

Sidney: A daisy? For me?

Heather: (with a dirty look at Seymour, she maneuvers Sidney away from him) This
one's on the house.

Seymour: (calling after Sidney) What about me?

Sidney: (turning back) What about you?

Seymour: I'm your type, remember?

Sidney: So you are. (reconsidering) No, it'll never work. You're much too good for
me.

Seymour: I can be a real rat.

Sidney: I could never relate to someone like you...someone I might learn to

respect.

Seymour: Give me a chance.

Sidney: You underestimate my capacity for self-destruction. When the wrong man
comes along, I'll know him. I love me not, I love me, I love me not...

(Slow fade to BLACKOUT as Sidney continues right, pulling the petals off
54

the daisy.)

(END OF ACT I)

ACT II

(Heather, despondent, sits on the stoop, twiddling a stick of unlit incense. The
daisies rest next to her on a step. C.B. enters left, starts to cross right. As she
passes Heather she pauses.)

C.B.: How you doing kid?

Heather: Less than mellow.

C.B.: Discouraged?

Heather: I'm giving my Inner Peace some rest.

C.B.: Bad day?

Heather: Negative vibes.

C.B.: Me, too.

Heather: Mars is in conjunction with Saturn.

C.B.: Maybe that explains the Mets. They lost to the Phillies, two to nothing. Agee
struck out twice, Clendenon, three times, and Swoboda fanned for four.

Heather: I empathize.

C.B.: You did a nice job on that hydrant. (at a loss for words) It's...it's...

Heather: Colorful?

C.B.: Yeah.

Heather: It's a statement.

C.B.: About what?

55

Heather: I can't decide.

C.B.: Your incense is out.

Heather: Yeah.

C.B.: Want me to light it?

Heather: I only burn it a few minutes at a time, otherwise I have an asthma attack.

C.B.: (referring to the daisies) Pretty flowers.

Heather: They're supposed to be daisies.

C.B.: I thought they looked familiar.

Heather: (offering the daisies to C.B.) Want to hold them?

C.B.: (awkwardly accepting the daisies) Thanks.

Heather: They like to be held.

C.B.: They need water.

Heather: I'm not into water, I'm a vegetarian.

C.B.: But what-

Heather: Have you ever looked at water?

C.B.: Probably.

Heather: I mean really looked at water. Up close, like through a microscope? I did
once.

C.B.: That must have been-

Heather: A revelation. Water is alive with hundreds and hundreds of tiny animals,
all furry and fuzzy and getting it on and playing it cool and grooving on the
scene─like, man, it's a miniature love-in. Only a cannibal would drink water.

C.B.: (returning the daisies to Heather) Water is vital to plant life.

Heather: Which is a myth circulated by the public utilities to maximize profits.

56

C.B.: You can't just let them dehydrate.

Heather: I don't. I keep them in carrot juice.

C.B.: They like that?

Heather: They really dig it. Especially when I remember the tab of acid.

C.B.: You give them LSD?

Heather: On special occasions.

C.B.: No wonder they're wilting.

Heather: Think so? Could be they're coming down from a bad trip. (hopefully) You
don't happen to have a Black Beauty on you?

C.B.: Amphetamine?

Heather: That'd perk 'em up.

C.B.: I don't use drugs.

Heather: What a bummer.

C.B.: Sorry-

Heather: It's nothing to be embarrassed about—lots of people have hang-ups.

C.B.: No...see...I've just never felt the need to experiment with chemicals.

Heather: Like, man, you don't have to justify your narrow mind to me, I'm
tolerant.

C.B.: An admirable attribute.

Heather: I learned it living with my father.

C.B.: Your father must be a-

Heather: -a real bigot.

C.B.: He's the reason you left home?

Heather: I should, shouldn't I?

57

C.B.: I wasn't suggesting-

Heather: Everybody else my age has already done it.

C.B.: There's no hurry.

Heather: Certain personal considerations hold me back.

C.B.: Your mother?

Heather: My doll collection. I have dolls representing every known country in the
Free World. On account of my father, I keep the Iron Curtain countries under my
bed.

C.B.: I used to have a doll.

Heather: What happened to it?

C.B.: Damned if I know.

Heather: You must miss it.

C.B.: We weren't really all that close.

Heather: Dolls can demand a lot of attention.

C.B.: (changing the subject) So you commute down to the Village every night.

Heather: All the way from Rego Park. My boyfriend Warren used to come with
me, but after a while hanging around down here started getting to him, so he gave
up and went gay.

C.B.: That can happen.

Heather: I envy him.

C.B.: Why?

Heather: Being gay seems to give him a sense of purpose.

C.B.: Disenchanted with the counterculture?

Heather: The anti-establishment's becoming kinda overcrowded. I'm checking out

alternatives.
58

C.B.: If that hydrant's any example, you have artistic flair.

Heather: As long as I can remember, I've shown promise.

C.B.: Why not go to art school?

Heather: My father says there aren't any women artists.

C.B.: What's he want you to be?

Heather: A nurse. And have babies.

C.B.: Maybe you should run away from home.

Heather: Another career opportunity has recently presented itself. These friends of
mine took over a basement and started this bomb factory.

C.B.: "Bomb" factory?

Heather: Isn't it a neat idea? Unfortunately I had to turn it down.

C.B.: I should hope so. The danger-

Heather: The basement. It'd kill my asthma.

C.B.: Isn't there something you'd like to do? Something less unhealthy?

Heather: You know Boom Boom and Ceil?

C.B.: Sure.

Heather: Can you keep a secret?

C.B.: Sure.

Heather: They're drag queens.

C.B.: I...er...may have heard that somewhere.

Heather: That's a lifestyle I could really get into.

C.B.: Being a drag queen?

Heather: Why not?

C.B.: I...er...is there any future in it?

59

Heather: You sound just like my father.

C.B.: Forget I said anything.

Heather: What's your gig?

C.B.: I drive a truck.

Heather: Far out.

C.B.: It's my truck. Or it will be when I finish with the payments. I picked it up at
Fort Dix when they assigned me to the motor pool.

Heather: (appalled) You were in the army?

C.B.: I was until the brass decided to purge the undesirables.

Heather: (self-righteously) I'm a pacifist.

C.B.: It takes all kind.

Heather: I mean I'm not sure how I feel about associating with a fascist oppressor.

C.B.: Are you kidding? I didn't even make sergeant.

Heather: Still-

C.B.: Look, kid, it was either the WACS or become a gym teacher. I like
volleyball, but not as a way of life.

Ceil: (off-stage right, pleading) -we were having a party.

Boom Boom: (off-stage right, furious) You were having a party.

(An angry Boom Boom enters right followed by an anxious Ceil.)

Ceil: (as they enter) I didn't mean to say it, Boom Boom, it came out before I
could close my mouth.

Boom Boom: (turning on Ceil) You came out because you couldn't close that
mouth.

Heather: (to Boom Boom and Ceil) I detect an aura of disharmony here.

Ceil: I graciously invited Boom Boom to join me for a drinkie at Julius's-

60

Boom Boom: You invited me ?

Ceil: (to Heather) -as it was our first time in the establishment, I felt we should
make a good impression.

Boom Boom: (to C.B.) She orders a round for the entire bar and then she points at
me and tells the bartender to charge it to "Miss Rich Bitch."

Ceil: They were your friends.

Boom Boom: I never saw any of that trash before in my life.

C.B.: Maybe they wanted to be your friends.

Boom Boom: Sure they did. As soon as the drinks arrived.

Ceil: (to C.B.) She always assumes the worst about people.

Boom Boom: I have you as a precedent.

Ceil: Surely you don't begrudge us raising a glass or two to the memory of Judy.

Boom Boom: Judy-schmudy, your single concern was how much free booze you
could sponge off me.

Ceil: May our Lady of the Ruby Slippers forgive you.

Boom Boom: Spare me.

Ceil: (to Heather) Certain people, on their rise to the top, are ruthless to those
without whose sacrifices they never would have made it.

Boom Boom: Just what did you ever sacrifice for me?

Ceil: Might I remind you who loaned you your first pair of tits?

Boom Boom: You're a real drag.

Ceil: At least I'm convincing.

Boom Boom: To anyone from New Jersey.

Ceil: You shave twice a day.

Boom Boom: You walk like a bowler.

61

Ceil: A bowler?!

Boom Boom: Only when you wear heels.

C.B.: (attempting to calm the storm.) Ladies, ladies-

Heather: -You two shouldn't fight.

Ceil: Your impersonation of Peggy Lee is thin.

Boom Boom: Your Pearl Bailey lacks color.

Ceil: (to C.B. and Heather.) Listen to her. Her wig's on so tight she thinks she's a
real woman.

Boom Boom: I, at least, have never had a strain of V.D. named after me.

Ceil: That is an untruth only partly based on fact.

Boom Boom Where there's an itch, there's reason to scratch.

Ceil: You and I are through, Rita Reptile! (ripping off her eyelashes) Here...take
back the eyelashes you gave me for my birthday.

Boom Boom: (removing her falsies) These, as you were so kind to remind me, are
yours.

Ceil: (très grand) Keep 'em─I shudder to think where they've been.

(Ceil exits right in a huff.)

Boom Boom: (calling after Ceil) Never again darken my half of this sidewalk,
Miss Minnie the Moocher.

(Boom Boom exits left in an equal huff.)

Heather: (to C.B.) Shouldn't we go after them?

C.B.: Take it from me, kid, never mess with a drag on the rag.

Donovan: (offstage right) Wait up!

(Timothy enters right followed by Donovan.)

Donovan: (catching up with Timothy─a variation on the Wolf’s encounter with

62

Little Red Riding Hood) What's your hurry?

Timothy: Why are you following me?

Donovan: Why are you so suspicious?

Timothy: I wasn't. Not at first. I'm learning fast.

Donovan: A bad experience?

Timothy: I've met some peculiar people.

Donovan: Trust me, I'm a fairly average guy.

Timothy: So was the last one. Until he went bonkers.

Donovan: So why not let me change your luck?

Timothy: (guarded) How?

Donovan: First we talk, get to know each other...

Timothy: So talk.

Donovan: (beginning his attempted entrapment) Hot tonight.

Timothy: I'm not interested in the weather.

Donovan: (suggestively) What are you interested in?

Timothy: Depends.

Donovan: On what?

Timothy: On what I find.

Donovan: What are you looking for?

Timothy: This and that.

Donovan: (trying to get Timothy to incriminate himself) You can't be more

specific?

Timothy: A bar.
63

Donovan: (indicating left) There's a bar up the street, middle of the block. The
Stonewall.

Timothy: I know. I passed it. A couple of times.

Donovan: Want to go there?

Timothy: What kind of a bar is it?

Donovan: The kind you're looking for.

Timothy: (coy) What kind is that?

Donovan: You know.

Timothy: Do I?

Donovan: (an entrapment classic) How about I buy you a drink?

Timothy: I can buy my own drinks. (unsure of his resources) How much do they
cost?

Donovan: Short of funds?

Timothy: (wishful thinking) I'm waiting to hear about a job.

Donovan: (hoping to compound the charges) Want to make a little cash?

Timothy: (he has a hunch he knows) Doing what?

Donovan: (lewdly) Use your imagination.

Timothy: (a revelation) Men get paid for that?

Donovan: Bundles.

Timothy: Naw...I could never do that.

Donovan: Why give it away?

Timothy: Who says I'm going to?

Donovan: You interested or not?

Timothy: Supposing a person was curious about this line of work, how would this
64

person acquire the necessary job skills?

Donovan: We can discuss the details over that drink.

Timothy: One drink?

Donovan: What could be more innocent?

Timothy: Guess there's nothing wrong with allowing you to buy me a drink.

(Timothy and Donovan start to exit left.)

Seymour: (off-stage right) Stop!

(Sidney hurries on left, followed by an exasperated Seymour.)

Sidney: (as he enters) No thank you, not tonight.

Timothy: (to Donovan, referring to Sidney) That's him...the nut I told you about.

Seymour: (catching Sidney) You can't just walk away.

Donovan: (trying to pull Timothy off left) It takes all kinds.

Sidney: (to Seymour) I can't afford not to.

Timothy: (to Donovan, holding back) No...wait...

Seymour: (to Sidney) You don't seem to realize, you're in serious trouble.

Sidney: You don't seem to realize when I said I was looking for the wrong man, I
had someone much more conventional in mind.

(Jordan and Gordon enter right as Michael and Donald enter left. They stop
to watch.)

Seymour: (to Sidney) You solicited me for immoral purposes.

Sidney: You kept following me...how else was I going to get rid of you?

Seymour: (nervous about the gathering crowd) I'm letting you off easy.

Sidney: Fifty dollars?

Gordon: (to Jordan, referring to Sidney) Listen to the lech-

65

Sidney: (to Seymour) The last one only cost me ten.

Jordan: (to Gordon, referring to Sidney) -exploiting that poor laborer.

Seymour: (to Sidney, increasingly uncomfortable) Forty─we forget the whole

thing.

Donald: (to Michael, referring to Sidney and Seymour) A lover's quarrel-

Sidney: (to Seymour) I refuse to be your single source of supplemental income.

Michael: (loudly, for Sidney and Seymour's benefit) I detest public displays.

Sidney: (to Seymour) Once a month maybe...if your financial needs are greater,
trot up to the New York Athletic Club and entrap Malcolm Forbes.

Timothy: (to Donovan) What's he mean "entrap?"

Seymour: (to Sidney) Thirty─that's my final offer.

Donovan: (to Timothy) You wouldn't understand.

(Jack enters left.)

Sidney: (to Seymour) I intend to report you.

Seymour: Report me?

Sidney: To the Better Business Bureau. For falsely advertising your less-than-
adequate accouterments.

Seymour: (wounded) Less than adequate?!

Sidney: You heard me, Princess Tiny Meat.

Seymour: You vicious queer! (collaring Sidney) I'm taking him in!

Sidney: (to the others) Help!

C.B.: (to Seymour as she steps forward) Let go of him.

Seymour: Stay out of this.

Jack: (to Seymour as he steps forward) Let go of him.

66

Sidney: (to Seymour) You heard them, unhand my haberdashery.

Seymour: (to Jack and C.B.) He's under arrest.

Sidney: (to the others) He's perpetrating police brutality on my Burberry.

C.B.: (to Seymour) What's the charge?

Seymour: Defamation. (catching himself) I mean disorderly conduct.

Jack: Show us your badge.

Jordan: Identify yourself-

Gordon: -it's the law.

Seymour: Turn legal on me, I run you all in.

Michael: (to the others as he backs away) If he's under arrest-

Donald: (to the others as he backs away) -he obviously did something wrong.

Donovan: (to the others, agreeing with Michael and Donald) We shouldn't
interfere.

Sidney: I'm innocent.

Donovan: That's what they all say.

Sidney: He wanted me to bribe him!

Jack: Extortion?

Seymour: He's lying.

Heather: (stepping forward) I saw the fuzz approach that gentleman there and offer
to display his genitalia.

Seymour: Repeat that smut, I bust you for obscenity.

Timothy: (stepping forward) I heard the cop ask him for money.

Donovan: (trying to pull Timothy back) Stay out of it.

Timothy: (to Donovan) Remember?... (to the others) ...first he asked for fifty, then
67

he began lowering his price.

C.B.: (to Seymour) Having a mid-summer sale?

Seymour: (to Timothy and Heather) You'll never live to testify.

Jack: Threatening violence?

Gordon: The Review Board-

Jordan: -takes a dim view of intimidation.

Timothy: Added to entrapment-

Heather: -indecent exposure-

Sidney: -gross exaggeration.

Seymour: (to Donovan, under his breath) Officer in need of assistance.

Donovan: (to Timothy, with urgency) Time for that drink.

Timothy: I can't, I'm a witness.

Jack: (to Seymour) Let him go-

Donovan: (to Timothy) Have to catch you later.

(Donovan exits right.)

Seymour: (calling after Donovan, sotto voce) Don't desert me!

C.B.: (to Seymour) -or we bring charges.

Seymour: (turning on the others) All this crap about "testifying" and "Review
Boards" ...you really think our miscreant here is eager to expose his abhorrent
lifestyle in court?

Sidney: (frightened) Court? Who mentioned court?

Seymour: They want to make a precedent out of you.

Sidney: Me?

Timothy: We're trying to keep you out of jail.

68

Sidney: I've been there before.

Heather: So this time fight back.

Sidney: Fight back?

Gordon: You've got a case.

Seymour: Which he won't win.

Jordan: (to Sidney) Stand up for your rights.

Michael: People like us don't have rights-

Donald: -we haven't earned them.

Sidney: (to the others) What are you, a bunch of radicals?

C.B.: We're gay-

Jack: -just like you.

Sidney: How dare you! I have nothing in common with deviants like you. I am a
practicing heterosexual presently on an extended leave of absence. (to Seymour,
pulling money from his wallet) Take the fifty.

Seymour: Bribery?

(Murfino enters right.)

Sidney: (to Seymour) Name your price, I'll write a check. Unless you take Master
Charge.

Seymour: (knocking Sidney's wallet to the sidewalk) You had your chance.

Murfino: (coming foreword) Seems we have a slight situation here.

Seymour: (pulling out his handcuffs) It's under control.

Murfino: (picking up Sidney's wallet) Sidney here's one of my best customers.

Seymour: He's temporarily out of circulation.

Murfino: (counting the money) One of my best customers.

69

Seymour: So?

Murfino: (offering Seymour a bill) Couldn't we reach a more amiable solution?

Seymour: We almost did... (glaring at C.B.) ...until we ran into Nancy Drew and
the Hardy Boys.

Murfino: (flourishing another bill) Release him into my custody, I promise to keep
him off the streets-

Seymour: (catching on) -and in your bar?

Murfino: Until closing.

Seymour: (amused) Yeah.

Murfino: What harm could he come to?

Seymour: Only if he apologizes.

C.B.: Apologizes?

Seymour: For belittling my manhood.

Murfino: (to Sidney) Tell the nice policeman you're sorry.

Jack: No way!

Murfino: You got him into this mess, I'm getting him out. (to Sidney) The officer's
waiting.

Sidney: (to Seymour, mumbling) I'm sorry.

Seymour: (enjoying himself) Louder.

Sidney: I retract my remarks.

Seymour: I said louder .

Jack: (moving towards Seymour) You son-of-a-

C.B.: (blocking Jack) Forget it, Jack, it's not worth the hassle.

Seymour: (to Sidney) Well?

70

Sidney: (seemingly contrite) I am heartily sorry for having offended you... (an evil
glint in his eye) ...with my acute discernment of your overt shortcomings.

Murfino: (to Seymour) Satisfied?

Seymour: He's all yours. (to Jack) You, I settle with later.

(Seymour exits right.)

Murfino: (to the others) Sidney here wants you should join him at my Emporium
of Euphoria to help celebrate his liberation.

Sidney: But-

Murfino: (returning Sidney's wallet) You can best express your gratitude by
drowning your sorrows in premium Scotch.

(Murfino shoves Sidney to an exit left.)

Donald: (to Michael as he eyes Jack) How about a drink?

Gordon: (to Jordan as he eyes Michael) Want to go to the Stonewall?

Michael: (to Donald as he eyes Gordon) I really should go home-

Jordan: (to Gordon as he eyes Donald) There's a meeting I'm planning to disrupt
tomorrow.

Michael: (to Donald) -psychoanalysis requires plenty of rest.

Gordon: (to Jordan) -I'm chairing that meeting!

Donald: (to Michael, still eyeing Jack) Okay, Michael, be well-

Jordan: (to Gordon, still eyeing Donald) I'll see you there.

Michael: (to Donald, still eyeing Gordon) We can only hope.

(Michael exits right, hoping Gordon will follow. Jordan exits left, hoping
Donald will follow. Donald exits left, hoping Jack will follow. Gordon exits
right, following Michael.)

Jack: (to C.B.) They can't keep shoving it to us.

C.B.: (quoting Jack from earlier) "Who's gonna stop them?."

71

Jack: We could.

C.B.: (leading him on) "We" who?

Jack: Us!

C.B.: (amused) "Band together?"

Jack: (realizing) Sounds familiar, doesn't it?

Murfino: Sidney's waiting to buy you that drink.

Heather: (to C.B., hinting) I've never been to the Stonewall.

C.B.: Wanta go?

Heather: I wouldn’t even know what to order.

Timothy: Do you like milkshakes?

Heather: Do I?

Timothy: Ask for a Brandy Alexander.

Heather: (to C..B. as they exit) Is that alcoholic?

C.B.: (as they exit) Not so you’d notice.

(Heather disposes of her incense and the daisies in the litter basket, exits left.
C.B. rescues the daisies, follows her.)

Murfino: (to Jack) What about you?

Jack: You're actually allowing me in your bar?

Murfino: Tonight's a special occasion.

Timothy: (to Murfino) I've never been to your bar.

Murfino: How would you like to be in show business?

Timothy: Me?

Murfino: From where I stand you show definite promise.

72

Timothy: You're a producer?

Murfino: At my bar we put on these nightly displays of tasteful entertainment.

Timothy: You really think I have talent?

Murfino: Can you dance?

Timothy: No.

Murfino: Can you move to music?

Timothy: I suppose so.

Murfino: Congratulations, you got the part. Come with me to the club, we'll see
how you look in the costume.

Timothy: (with a glance at Jack) Can I meet you there?

Murfino: You don't want to pass up an opportunity like this.

Timothy: I want to say something to someone.

Murfino: (arm around Timothy's shoulder) And miss your big break?

Timothy: I'm really going to be on the stage?

Murfino: With your very own spotlight.

(Murfino escorts the dazzled Timothy to an exit left. Jack watches them go,
considers following as Donovan enters right, searching for Timothy.)

Donovan: (to Jack) Where'd he go?

Jack: Who?

Donovan: The kid I was talking to.

Jack: (indicating left) He's on his way to fame and fortune.

Jordan: (off-stage left) Anal intercourse is politically incorrect.

Donald: (off-stage left) What's the party line on masturbation?

(Jordan and Donald enter left, cross right.)

73

Jordan: (as they enters) Elitist.

Donald: (distracted by Jack) Sixty-nine?

(Half way through the next speech, Donald drops away from Jordan,
stopping upstage left where he pretends to window shop.)

Jordan: (continuing right) -only if both participants are lying on their sides and
only if the climax is coincidental and of equal proportions and only if neither
participant, at any time, moves any part of their anatomy in a forward thrust
otherwise you end up with Male Aggression, which, as we all know, is the root of
Third World Oppression.

(Jordan exits right unaware that Donald has deserted him as Michael and
Gordon enter right, cross left.)

Michael: (to Gordon, as they enter) I hope you didn't think I was trying to pick
you up when I asked for the time.

Gordon: It was pure chance our meeting the way we did.

Michael: I don't approve of one night stands.

Gordon: A person should get to know the other person first.

Michael: (getting hotter) I believe in-

Gordon: (and hotter) -personal commitment.

Michael: (and hotter) -mutual respect.

Gordon: (and hotter) -long term relationships.

Michael: (loosening his sweater) Got a place to go?

Gordon: (quickly leading the way) Right around the corner.

Michael: (stopping short) No. Wait. I can't.

Gordon: Why not?

Michael: I'm going to mass on Sunday.

Gordon: We'll be finished by then.

74

Michael: You don't understand, I've already gone to confession.

Gordon: Reschedule it for tomorrow.

Michael: Bloomingdale's having a sale on angora sweaters.

Gordon: If you're worried about committing a sin, we can do it with the lights off.

Michael: Yes! No...Father Malarkey would never forgive me.

(Michael escapes left.)

Gordon: (calling after Michael, plaintively) We'll keep it venial.

(Gordon exits right. Donald approaches Jack.)

Donald: (to Jack, condescending) Isn't it a bit hot for that black leather Jacket?

Jack: I hadn't noticed.

Donald: I've never talked to a S&M freak before.

Jack: Lucky me.

Donald: Am I supposed to be intimidated by you?

Jack: (amused) Am I supposed to be turned on by your approach?

Donald: Who says I'm making one?

Jack: You're standing there.

Donald: It's a free country.

Jack: (politely) I'm in no mood for small talk.

Donald: You prefer monosyllables?

Jack: (laughing) You being hostile?

Donald: Just sociable.

Jack: I'm not.

Donald: You should smile more.

75

Jack: (moving away) Wouldn't want to attract the wrong element.

Donald: You own a bike?

Jack: A Schwinn.

Donald: Are you being sarcastic?

Jack: To no avail.

Donald: (following Jack) I wasn't aware that irony was part of the mystique.

Jack: (entertaining himself) It's germane.

Donald: Do you often use words like that?

Jack: Indubitably.

Donald: You're doing that on purpose, aren't you.

Jack: Doing what?

Donald: Irritating me with your vocabulary.

Jack: Is it working?

Donald: Articulation in someone like you is disappointing.

Jack: And obviously ineffective.

Donald: I can't figure out if you're genuine or not.

Jack: That's twice tonight I've been accused of being unconvincing.

Donald: What do you do?

Jack: You'll never need to know.

Donald: What do you do for a living?

Jack: (the truth) Illustrate children's books.

Donald: Now who's being hostile.

Jordan: (off-stage right) I don't want anyone to see us.

76

Gordon: (off-stage left) Isn't there a less public route?

(Ceil entwined with Jordan enter right as Boom Boom entangled with
Gordon enter left. The happy couples are so preoccupied they don't notice
the others.)

Ceil: (reassuring Jordan as they enter) We meet anyone you know-

Boom Boom: (reassuring Gordon as they enter) -we pretend I'm your sister.

Jordan: (nervously to Ceil) You promise not to-

Gordon: (anxiously to Boom Boom) I don't want anyone to-

Ceil: (to Jordan) Tell?

Boom Boom: (to Gordon) Moi?

Ceil: (to Jordan) I'm the very soul of-

Boom Boom: (to Gordon) -discretion is my middle name.

Jordan: (to Ceil) I buy you a bottle of champagne-?

Gordon: (to Boom Boom) What if I don't want to go all the way?

Ceil: (backing Jordan to center) -and Ceil lets you wear her garter belt.

Boom Boom: (backing Gordon to center) Trust Boom Boom, it'll grow back.

Jordan: (to Ceil) And your feather boa.

Gordon: (to Boom Boom) Both legs?

Ceil: (to Jordan) Enough bubbly, you can get into my panties.

Boom Boom: (to Gordon) An extra ten and I'll shave your armpits.

Jordan: Oh joy!

Gordon: (simultaneously) Oh rapture!

(The couples collide.)

Jordan: (sees Gordon) Gordon!

77

Gordon: (simultaneously, as he sees Jordan) Jordan!

Boom Boom: (to Ceil) If it isn't Miss Bridge-and-Tunnel.

Ceil: If it ain't the Scourge of Schenectady.

Gordon: (to Jordan) This isn't what it looks like.

Jordan: (to Gordon) You mustn't get the wrong impression.

Boom Boom: (possessively taking Gordon by the arm, referring to Jordan)

Introduce me to your cute friend, brother dear.

Ceil: (to Gordon, as she drapes herself around Jordan's neck) Ditch the bitch and
join us for a drinkie.

Jordan & Gordon: (pulling free from Boom Boom and Ceil) I've changed my mind!

(Jordan exits left almost as fast as Gordon exits right.)

Boom Boom: (calling after Gordon) No!

Ceil: (calling after Jordan) Wait!

Boom Boom: (to Ceil) Nice work, Medusa─you managed to repulse two men with
a single smile.

Ceil: (to Boom Boom) Everything was just fine until you slithered onto the scene,
Darlene Dynel.

(An incensed Ceil exits right as an eager Timothy enters left dressed in
Sidney's raincoat, cowboy hat and boots and not much else.)

Timothy: (to Boom Boom) I've been looking for you all over.

Boom Boom: That's where I've been.

Timothy: I've got great news!

Boom Boom: You finally came out?

Timothy: (opening the raincoat to display his costume─a brief bikini belted with
dime store six-shooters) I'm a star!

Boom Boom: (appreciating) You're definitely a featured player.

78

Timothy: I'm a go-go boy.

Boom Boom: (she's heard it all before) At the Stonewall.

Timothy: This big time producer-

Boom Boom: Murfino.

Timothy: -has taken a real interest in-

Boom Boom: Cashing in on your buns.

Timothy: I'm about to make my debut-

Boom Boom: -and you want me there.

Timothy: You and the other one.

Boom Boom: The "other one" is otherwise indisposed.

Timothy: You can come, can't you?

Boom Boom: (considering) Judging by your costume, it isn't formal.

Timothy: C.B. and Heather are there─Heather has the giggles...and Sidney, who's
a lot nicer now that he's had a few drinks.

Boom Boom: Why not? We can't keep your public waiting.

Timothy: I don't have a public.

Boom Boom: Give it time.

(Boom Boom and Timothy exit left. Donald crosses to Jack.)

Donald: (to Jack) I fascinate you, don't I?

Jack: Are you still here?

Donald: I find the whole S&M scene pretty funny.

Jack: Glad to be the source of amusement.

Donald: Come on, admit it, you're comical.

79

Jack: Not for much longer.

Donald: Where's you sense of humor?

Jack: In abeyance.

Donald: I'm getting to you, aren't I?

Jack: More than you might think.

Donald: You're hot for my bod. (reassuring Jack before he can answer) Hey, when
you're as attractive as I am, you learn to endure unwanted attention.

Jack: That makes two of us.

Donald: (a hint) You want something bad enough, you should go after it.

Jack: (thinking about Timothy) You know what, you're absolutely right. (starts to
exit left after Timothy)

Donald: (blocking Jack) If we go to your place, what'll you do with me?

Jack: Teach you some manners.

Donald: (suggestively) Is that what you call discipline?

Jack: Public service.

Donald: Will you chain me up first? Restraint...isn't that the term for it?

Jack: It's what I'm practicing.

Donald: After you have me in bondage, what'll you do then?

Jack: Move to another apartment.

Donald: (incredulous) Are you rejecting me?

Jack: Fast on the uptake, aren't you?

(Seymour enters left, stands in the shadows unnoticed.)

Donald: (to Jack, appalled) You can't reject me.

Jack: Like you said, it's a free country.

80

Donald: Nobody ever rejects me.

Jack: (starting left) Somebody had to be the first.

Donald: (backing right) You're sick.

Jack: (stopping) Because I rejected you?

Donald: (still backing right) No wonder you're into what you're into, you can't
make it with a normal person.

Jack: Is that what you are?

Donald: Sick and sad and...and pathetic.

(Donald exits right. Jack turns to exits left, is blocked by Seymour.)

Seymour: I thought he'd never leave.

Jack: You I also don't need.

Seymour: You helped blow my cover.

Jack: (moving around Seymour, continuing left) It happens to the best of us.

Seymour: Where you going?

Jack: I want to catch the new act at the Stonewall.

Seymour: I'd stay out of there if I were you.

Jack: (stopping) Why?

Seymour: It's...it's not your kind of place.

Jack: (suspicious) We've already established that.

Seymour: (hinting) I'm off duty.

Jack: Your poor wife.

Seymour: Thought maybe we could have a beer somewhere.

Jack: You never quit, do you?

81

Seymour: I'm not trying to entrap you.

Jack: That's what they all say.

Seymour: You invited me to your place, remember?

Jack: Are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting?

Seymour: I'm not queer or anything, I just like to fool around. I even brought you a
present. (producing a nightstick, giving it Jack) I figure you know what to do with
it.

Jack: This isn't happening.

(Donovan enters right, stands in the shadows unnoticed.)

Seymour: We gotta keep it confidential. Tell me where you live, I'll meet you
there.

Jack: You've presented me with a dilemma.

Seymour: Naw, it's just a regulation nightstick.

Jack: With or without lubricant?

Seymour: You're the boss.

Jack: I'm damned if I do and damned if I don't.

Seymour: What do you mean?

Jack: Taking a cop home and whipping the shit out of him, it's a fantasy come true.

Seymour: So?

Jack: (returning the nightstick) So I'm not about to give you the satisfaction.

Donovan: (to Seymour, as he steps out of the shadows) Nice approach, Seymour.

Seymour: (caught) How long were you standing there?

Donovan: Long enough.

Seymour: (referring to Jack and himself) This isn't what it looks like.
82

Donovan: We'll let your superior decide.

Seymour: You can't fink on a fellow cop.

Jack: What is this, the policeman's ball?

Donovan: (to Seymour) Half your daily take.

Seymour: Half? You're shaking me down?

Jack: (gleefully) The screw's getting screwed!

Donovan: (holding out his palm to Seymour) Starting with my cut of what you got
off the closet case.

Jack: There is a God! -and she's a vindictive queen.

C.B.: (off-stage left) Jack!

Heather: (off-stage left) Like man, it's far out!

(C.B. and Heather run on left, their adrenaline on high.)

C.B.: (as they enter) They're raiding the Stonewall!

Heather: Fuzz all over the place.

Jack: (turning on Seymour) That why you warned me not to go there.

C.B.: (stopping short as she sees Seymour) Look who's still here.

Seymour: Love to stay and chat, but I've got business up the block.

(Seymour exits left.)

Donovan: (following Seymour) Wait for me, "partner."

C.B.: (to Jack, referring to Seymour) What was that all about?

Jack: If I told you, you'd never believe me.

Heather: You should have been with us-

C.B.: -Heather's a hero-

83

Heather: (to C.B.) -you're the brave one-

C.B.: (to Jack) -this cop had me in a hammerhold-

Heather: -so I kneed him in the groin-

C.B.: -he sat down on the curb and wept-

Heather: -like, you'd have thought it was the first time he ever met with passive
resistance.

(Flashing red lights illuminate the stage, accompanied by a rise and fall of
sirens as more police cars hurry to the Stonewall. Donald enters right as
Michael enters left.)

Jack: (referring to the police cars) Reinforcements!

C.B.: (overlapping) They've called out the Tactical Squad!

Heather: (overlapping) Outasight!

(Jordan enters left as Gordon enters right.)

Jordan: (to Gordon) What's happening?

Gordon: It's a riot!

Michael: It's just a bunch of hysterical faggots.

Donald: It's the full moon.

Jack: (to C.B.) There's a kid...a new go-go boy-

Heather: Tim?

C.B.: He was last seen with Sidney.

Heather: He got lost in the scuffle.

C.B.: (to Jack) Boom Boom had words with this pig at the door-

Heather: -they threw her in the paddy wagon.

Michael: Why can't the authorities concentrate on the blatant ones-

84

Donald: -and leave the rest of us alone.

Jack: (angry) Us "normal" types?

Michael: The way some of them behave-

Donald: -they're asking for trouble.

Jack: So are you.

Michael: (to Jack) If you're such a big man-

Donald: -why don't you go do something about it.

Jack: Will you come with me?

Donald: I wouldn't demean myself.

Jack: (moving on Donald) And you call me pathetic.

C.B.: (blocking Jack) Jack, stop, it's not his fault.

Jack: Whose fault is it?

(Sidney enters left. He has lost his hat, coat and dignity. He clutches his
broken sunglasses.)

Sidney: (as he enters) They took my identification...they know where I

live...where I work...

Jack: (to Sidney) Where is he? The kid you were with?

Sidney: (looking around, befuddled) He's...he's...who knows... (gesturing

left) ...back there somewhere.

Jack: (to C.B.) I'm going after him.

(Jack exits left in search of Timothy.)

C.B.: (calling after Jack) Jack!-

Heather: (calling after Jack) -no!-

Donald: (calling after Jack) -they'll never let you through!

85

Jordan: (to the crowd, taking over) We should be there fanning the flames.

Gordon: (pushing Jordan out of the way) We need a strategy of civil disobedience.

Jordan: We need a manifesto.

Gordon: A constitution.

Jordan: Crowds of demonstrators.

Gordon: A mimeograph machine.

Jordan & Gordon: We need a leader!

Jordan: I nominate me.

Gordon: (campaigning) I have the experience. Civil Rights, Ban the Bomb,
Planned Parenthood.

Jordan: (campaigning) At the Columbia University uprising, I singlehandedly set

fire to a professor.

Gordon: You're out of order.

Jordan: Those in favor of me?

Gordon: (his hand flies up) One to nothing, I win.

Jordan: You're manipulating this meeting.

Gordon: You're acting suspiciously like an outside agitator.

Jordan: Your handling of this organization's funds is highly questionable.

Gordon: (childish) If you're not going to play the way I want to play, I'll start my
own movement.

Jordan: Not before I start mine. (stamping his foot) And mine'll be national.

Heather: (to Jordan & Gordon) Far out.

C.B.: (to Jordan & Gordon) What the fuck's going on?

Sidney: I think what we're experiencing here is a flash forward.

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Donald: If this is the future-

Michael: -we're better off right where we are.

Heather: (to Jordan & Gordon) Let’s get tonight out of the way first-

C.B.: (to Jordan & Gordon) -you political types have years and years ahead of you
to screw up the results.

(Flashing red lights, a rise and fall of sirens, a triumphant Boom Boom
enters left, her hands cuffed. She is followed by an exultant Timothy and a
protective Jack. Timothy wears Jack's black leather Jacket.)

Boom Boom: (arms above her head) Look everybody, I'm engaged!

(An out of breath Ceil enters right.)

Ceil: Boom Boom!

Boom Boom: Ceil!

(Boom Boom and Ceil fall into each others arms.)

Ceil: They told me you were incarcerated.

Boom Boom: I was sprung.

Jack: (unlocking Boom Boom's handcuffs with his key) As fast as the cops shoved
them in the back of the paddy wagon-

Boom Boom: -Miss Marsha was sneaking us out by the driver's side.

Ceil: Where was the driver?

Timothy: Watching the fun.

C.B.: (looking up the street) The crowd's getting bigger by the minute.

(Murfino enters left protectively carrying the battered sign to the Stonewall.)

Murfino: They're wrecking my place. They smashed the window. You got any idea
how much plate glass costs?

Jordan: The police?

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Murfino: My customers.

Michael: They're destroying property?

Murfino: The cops are barricaded inside.

Gordon: Inside?

Donald: You mean they're winning?

C.B.: We're winning!

Sidney: (awed) Faggots fighting back?

Ceil: I love it!

(Seymour and Donovan, both armed with nightsticks, charge on left.)

Donovan: (referring to Boom Boom) There she is!

Seymour: (grabbing Boom Boom) You're under arrest for resisting arrest.

Donovan: (going for Timothy) We're taking you also.

Jack: (blocking Donovan) Oh, no you're not.

Donovan: Yeah?

Timothy: (standing up for himself) Yeah.

Jack: (pleased with Timothy) Yeah.

Seymour: (holding tight to Boom Boom) Forget 'em, we got what we came for.

Boom Boom: (struggling) Leave loose of me!

Seymour: You're only making it harder on yourself.

Ceil: (pushing foreword) Set my sister free!

Seymour: Keep back, you second rate aberration.

Ceil: Second rate? I'll have you know I'm the classiest aberration on this block.

Boom Boom: (cautioning) Ceil-

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Ceil: He can't talk to me that way.

Seymour: I can talk to you any way I want-

Ceil: Know what your problem is? Penis envy!

Seymour: Why you vicious-!

(Seymour releases Boom Boom, swings his nightstick at Ceil, hitting her in
the face, knocking her to the pavement. the others back away in shock.)

Ceil: Satisfied, sweetie? Get your rocks off?

Boom Boom: (tossing her compact to Ceil) Girlfriend, see to your makeup.

Ceil: (catching the compact) Thanks, hon. (she makes dainty repairs)

Jack: (tentatively, almost shyly, beginning to chant at Seymour and Donovan) Who
takes the payoffs, you take the payoffs-

C.B.: (joining Jack) Who takes the payoffs-?

(Ceil, Boom Boom, Heather, Timothy, Jordan and Gordon pick up the chant.
It is slow, measured, political activism is a very new experience for them. The
chant is kept under the following scene.)

The Others: (to Seymour & Donovan) -you take the payoffs.

Donovan: Okay-

The Others: (to Seymour & Donovan) Who takes the payoffs-?

Seymour: That's it-

The Others: (to Seymour & Donovan) -you take the payoffs.

Donovan: (pushing the crowd back) -break it up.

The Others: (to Seymour & Donovan) Who takes the payoffs-?

Seymour: (pushing the crowd back) -let's move along.

The Others: (to Seymour & Donovan) -you take the payoffs.

C.B.: (standing firm) This street belongs to us.

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(The chant stops.)

Donovan: (nightstick at ready) Yeah?

Ceil: (joining C.B.) Us and our friends.

Seymour: (nightstick at ready) Says who?

Boom Boom: (joining C.B. & Ceil) Says me.

Jack: (joining C.B., Ceil & Boom Boom) And me.

Timothy: (joining C.B., Ceil, Boom Boom & Jack) Me, too.

Jordan: (joining C.B., Ceil, Boom Boom, Jack & Timothy) That includes-

Gordon: (joining C.B., Ceil, Boom Boom, Jack & Timothy) -us.

Heather: (joining the gathering crowd) Look who's united!

Murfino: (taking refuge behind the cops, clutching the Stonewall sign like a
security blanket) We don't want no trouble on this street.

Ceil: (to Donald, beginning a new chant, the tone of which is welcoming and
slightly giddy with new found potency) Join us.

Donald: (taking refuge behind the cops) You're only making it harder on the rest of
us!

Boom Boom: (to Michael, taking up the chant) Join us.

Michael: (taking refuge behind the cops) You're an impediment to my rapid

recovery.

Jack: (to Donald, taking up the chant) Join us.

Donald: Sick...and sad...and...and...

Jack: Pathetic?

C.B.: (to Sidney, taking up the chant) Join us.

Sidney: (struggling his way through the crowd) You don't understand-

Timothy & Heather: (to Sidney, taking up the chant) Join us.
90

Seymour: (to Sidney) Don't listen to them.

Jordan & Gordon: (to Sidney, taking up the chant) Join us.

Sidney: -I'd be risking everything.

Jack: (to Sidney, taking up the chant) Join us.

Sidney: (caught in the middle between the cops and the crowd) I have a
professional career-

Boom Boom: (to Sidney, taking up the chant) Join us.

Sidney: (to Timothy, trying to justify) -elderly parents.

Ceil: Believe me, Miss Thing, you ain't got nothing left to lose.

Jack: (to Seymour, leading the others) Out of the closets-

Seymour: (to Jack) You aren't proving anything.

Jack leading the others: (to Seymour) -into the streets.

Seymour: No!

Jack: (to Seymour, leading the others) Out of the closets-

Seymour: Never!!

Jack: (to Seymour, leading the others) -into the streets.

Seymour: No way!!!

Jack: (to Seymour, leading the others) Out of the closets-

Seymour: (swinging his nightstick at Jack with the full fury of self-hate) You
faggots are revolting!!!!*

(Reacting without thinking, Sidney grabs the nightstick from Seymour. With
horror he realizes what he has done and almost immediately his fear
transforms to exhilaration.)

Sidney: (brandishing the nightstick at Seymour with joy and pride) You bet your
sweet ass we are!!!!!*
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(Flashing red lights illuminate a grouping worthy of a statue in Sheridan

Square. BLACKOUT)

(*Graffiti from the front of the Stonewall Inn, the morning of June 28th, 1969.)