“Now, do you or don’t you want to bang me.”
“Holy shit.”
“Dear me. Your language is a constant stream of shit, fuck, holy christ and Jesus. But what a quaint expression. You, I take it, mean religiously holy shit.”
“Hey Lady Lullabyebaby, the term bang. You ain’t exactly not using quaint expressions yourself.”
“Well isn’t that what you invited me to the ballet for. To bang me afterwards. But I won’t be awfully insulted if you didn’t. I was in fact on my way to the country this evening. To spend the night with my husband, and to exercise my horses in the morning. And indeed right now I’m ready to heat myself some honey and milk and read myself to sleep.”
“Wow.”
“Why wow.”
“I’m floored. I don’t know what to say.”
“From stories one hears, you usually have quite a lot to say to women.”
“Let me take a big deep breath will you. Can I admit something to you.”
“Yes, provided it’s not baring your soul. I detest men who get gushy and mushy.”
“I don’t think I could bang you. Not tonight. Not the way someone like you deserves to be banged.”
“Ha ha ha, Mr. Schultz, you’re priceless. You’re marvellous, in fact. Although I don’t do so, I prefer to demand rather than deserve. The woman who deserves anything is the woman who will be last to get it.”
“Well I went out of my hotel room to see you this evening reciting rule six of new rules I got. Don’t screw, horror and sex don’t mix.”
“Are you trying to put me in my place or something.”
“No no. It’s me. I’m in horror. Which is piled up all around me. Christ I’m letting my hair down.”
“Let it down. Do please. I’m enchanted.”
“I’ll tell you something, I’ve never been able to speak to a woman like this before.”
“O. Now I’m the trusted confidante.”
“Christ don’t say it like that. Christ. I’ll go home. I shouldn’t have ever come out in the first place. I’m sorry. This reminds me of a night standing in the theatre when a fucking god damn Catholic nun saw me lurking in the aisle. She must have been looking at my nose, when she said that the Jews had been condemned by God to forever wander the face of the earth.”
“O dear. And what did you say. Nothing.”
“I said fuck you sister, Israel is born.”
“Ah Mr. Schultz. Good for you. Full of surprises you are.”
“Yeah. Too many. And I’m still fucking wandering. It won’t surprise me if the first thing I do tomorrow morning when I get up is to sit down and cry.”
“Well I don’t mind women who do, but I dislike men who weep. And since you’re not going to bang me. I think I shall go to bed. Or else I shall start feeling like my old granny who had it put in her will that she was to be cremated and her ashes sprinkled on her faithful dog’s food.”
“Christ you’re fucking eccentric like your brother.”
“Am I. I hadn’t noticed.”
“Jesus I don’t even know your first name. And we’ve even gone without eating this evening.”
“Mr. Schultz, it appears that we are going to go without fuck all this evening, if I may use the expression.”
“Christ here you are. Married. You got a husband.”
“Yes I have. If that worries you. And he is a twisted, perverted, despicably cruel monster. And my Christian name is Lulu.”
“Holy christ Lulu honey you couch your words carefully. Like you stand there in the middle of the floor like a battleship blasting out salvoes at me. Hey do you mind telling me what your social rank is.”
“Not at all. I’m the daughter of an earl and married to an earl. Which to date has not once stopped me from behaving as a commoner when I choose.”
“Wow. I don’t know what the English upper classes are all about but looking at you I don’t know what I should expect next now.”
“My tiara is in a safe in that room there. Shall I wear that and nothing else. It may help to explain me better. It’s not an awfully good tiara. I’m my brother’s wayward sister. And have been left the dregs of what family jewels were doled out. Although I must confess Basil did secretly offer me the pick. Even a woven bracelet of my great grandmother’s hair. But I can see, nothing is going to arouse you to bang me.”
“Honey I’m busting my brains here, thinking. You’re the most fucking.”
“The most fucking what.”
“I don’t know.”
“Well provided I’m not entirely unfuckable it may help to let me explain myself. I pretend to believe in Christ. And do devoutly believe in reincarnation. I can be a very smartly got up gentlewoman when I please. And despite my many men friends I masturbate frequently. I also go on solitary continental travels for kicks, cocks and gigolos. And in search of groaning moaning orgasms. And is it any wonder. And of course you’re married Mr. Schultz.”
“Yes I am.”
“And how would you sum that up.”
“In a nutshell. You mean.”
“Sum it up in a codpiece if you prefer.”
“Well in a codpiece. She gave me maybe three months of wonderful fucking and gave herself enough time to get her clutches deep enough into me to start to begin to give me maybe thirty future years of fucking misery.”
“Par for the course my dear. And you know, such wives are out by night and day all over London with wire cutters, screwdrivers, matches, petrol and hammers with the intent to damage the property, and the body and soul if possible, of their husband’s mistresses. And perhaps it’s time I peeked out the window.”
“What about your husband, coming back here.”
“This is my own private private flat, my dear. To which he is not privy.”
“Jesus your doorman, who’s he.”
“He is a very special favourite of mine. He has nine children. Everyone in the building thinks he’s too outspoken for a doorman, and would like him sacked. But although no one knows it, I own the building, and therefore he stays.”
“Jesus you own the building.”
“Yes, I saved up my little pennies and bought it.”
“Hey let me ask you something. Are you really under all this strong exterior just a lost little creature.”
“Let me ask you something Mr. Schultz. Are you just someone who’s repeatedly gone the way of all flesh and suddenly after a kick in the teeth is now trying to go the way of all sensitive souls.”
“Shit you hit below the belt.”
“Gentlemen feel it much better there. In their spiritual solar plexus.”
“You’re fucking tough.”
“Out of my misplaced regard for females pretending otherwise, I won’t comment on that.”
“I’ll drink my apple juice. And beat it.”
“Please don’t hurry. You know, all most women want Mr. Schultz, is just six kids and a farm in the country with horses, hens and a house cow.”
“Thanks for telling me. I’m learning everything tonight. And boy I’m learning less and less about you.”
“I must then tell you more. Did you know that I keep extremely fit. I do a naked standing run at the open window every morning.”
“You mean here.”
“Yes.”
“Holy christ, the neighbors.”
“Well yes, unless it’s dark or extremely before dawn it does attract considerable male binocular neighborly attention. But I also own the building opposite.”
“Boy you’re a real Lulu.”
“Shall I tell you more about me.”
“Shoot honey, shoot. I’m listening. You’re driving all the worries in truck loads right out of my mind.”
“I have an extremely wide circle of extremely mixed friends. I’m given to moods and angers. I huff and I puff. And I will sometimes literally scream the house down if I don’t get what I want.”
“Yes. That figures.”