Spike Heels
By Theresa RebeckGeorgie was a waitress for seven years before her neighbor, Andrew, decided to become her mentor and get her a white-collar secretary job working for his lawyer friend, Edward. Edward tries to seduce Georgie, and when she refuses, he comments that he "could just rape" her. Both are outraged by this threat, and here, Georgie explains her decision to continue working for him, and to join him for dinner to allow him to apologize.
GEORGIE
Listen - I know he's still slime, but you want to know what happened? I did go back to work, yeah. I went back in to get my stuff - I had all this shit in my desk, you know? So I go in at about ten to pick it all up, and it was amazing. Every secretary in the building has her own little story to tell me about how she almost did the same thing but never had the guts. I'm like this fucking hero, you know? So right in the middle of this big scene, there's like fifteen people crowding around my desk, right, Edward comes out and says he wants to talk to me. In his office. And he just stands there, and it's like this dare, you know, it's like this fucking dare, and everyone goes real quiet, just waiting to see what I'm gonna do. The whole fucking office is watching me. And I don't know, when you get a dare like that - I mean, it was so out there.
So we go in his office, and he says: I want to apologize. And then he goes into it. He apologizes for about five minutes. Swore he'd never do it again. Then he offers me a two thousand dollar raise. Well - the whole thing just started to seem kind of funny. Two thousand bucks? He never even touched me! I didn't even have to kiss him. I just thought - hey, you know, two thousand bucks. Jesus. So - I didn't quit. I didn't quit.
I can take care of myself; I've been doing it for years. I don't need you to like, worry about me. You don't know if I'm just trying to make you jealous, or if this is just what it is, you know, reality, why not sleep with him? Maybe this is me. Okay? I mean, I understand this. Hormones I get. Every man I've ever had to deal with - I fucking know how to deal with that. I know what to do, and when to do it, and how to get what I want. You know - I live in a whole different world from you. I'm in the receiver's position. I do what you guys tell me to; whether it's reading books or fucking, I do it. I make all this noise, you know; I scream and yell bloody fucking murder, but I always manage to do what you say. And yeah, maybe I am trying to make you jealous. Maybe I want to teach you something for a change, you could learn from me, but - fuck. Jesus. Forget it. You tell me what I am, because I don't know anymore. Oh, fuck. Look - I'm sorry I'm being so awful, I don't - I'm just confused, okay? I don't want to talk about this. Fuck. I don't know what I'm doing, I just don't know what else to do.
In this scene, Lydia, Andrew's fiancee, has just stormed in and demanded that Georgie move out of the building and stay away from Andrew. Georgie listens to her patiently, then responds, finally angry.
GEORGIE
What I want to know is - if you're so fucking real, Lydia, then what the hell are you doing here? I mean, if you're so much better than me, then why even bother? You could just wait it out and I'll drift away like a piece of paper, like nothing, right? 'Cause that's what I am. Nothing. Right? So why the fuck are you up here, taking me apart?
You people. What an amazing fucking snow job you all are doing on the world. And I bought it! We all buy it. My family - they're like, all of a sudden I'm Mary Tyler Moore or something. I mean, they live in hell, right, and they spend their whole lives just wishing they were somewhere else, wishing they were rich, or sober, or clean; living on a street with trees, being on some fucking TV show. And I did it. I'm not myself anymore! I moved to Boston, I work in a law office, I'm the big success story. And they have no idea what that means. It means I get to hang out with a bunch of lunatics. It means I get to read books that make no sense. It means that instead of getting harassed by jerks at the local bar, now I get harassed by guys in suits. Guys with glasses. Guys who talk nice. Guys in suits. Well, you know what I have to say to all of you? Shame on you. Shame on you for thinking you're better than the rest of us. And shame on you for being mean to me. Shame on you, Lydia. I think you'd better go.
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