The Goodbye Girl Page #2

Mrs. Whatever-your-name-is...

...and I don't have a place to sleep tonight.

And I don't want to blow

my last few bucks on a hotel!

According to my non-waterproof watch...

...it's at least 12:20 and technically

that apartment belongs to me.

Do I come up there now

and we discuss this amicably...

...or do I storm the place in the morning?

I've got a gun! I'll use it if I have to!

Change? You got change for $1? Goddamn it!

I got a pregnant wife in the lobby.

I just want change...

We're in trouble, right?

We're not in trouble. We have our rights.

Possession is nine-tenths of the law.

What's the other tenth?

Shut up.

- Is that the last tenth?

- Go to bed. I will handle this.

Hello?

I called the 37th Precinct.

There's no Charles D'Agostino in Homicide.

Then I called Rita Scott,

an actress friend...

...who was in The Merchant of Venice

with Tony DeForrest.

Rita told me about a girl Tony's living with,

Paula McFadden...

...a former dancer

and her 10-year-old daughter.

She also told me that the apartment

is leased in the name of Tony DeForrest.

She knows this for a fact because

she lived with him, prior to Paula and Lucy.

Now, can we continue this conversation

in a drier room, Miss McFadden?

Take your problems up

with the Housing Authority!

Don't hang up!

Please? I don't have any more change.

I'm soaked to the bone,

and I have a very low threshold for disease.

Look, I don't know what Tony told you, but...

...he's got my money, and I got a lease,

and you got the apartment.

Now one of us got screwed!

Let me rephrase that.

We have to talk this out,

and I am in no condition...

...financial or health-wise,

to look for a hotel in the pouring rain.

If there's any such thing as the 78th St. Flu,

I think I've got it.

Why not take a shot in a convenient place?

Five minutes...

...that's all I'm asking! What is it?

In about 30 seconds we're gonna get cut off.

My number's 873-5261.

It's a flooded booth on Amsterdam Avenue.

If you have any compassion

in your heart whatsoever...

I'm tryin', Operator!

Any compassion in your heart,

you'll call me back. 873-5261.

That number again is 873-52... Oh, sh*t!

Hello, thank you!

Five minutes!

Leave your bags.

This isn't a permanent conversation.

- I'm dripping on your rug.

- It's been done before.

I'm sorry, I didn't know there were going

to be any complications.

There's a lot of that going around.

I don't blame you for being hostile.

I get the picture.

Tony rented me the apartment

and split with the money.

Then you and your daughter got dumped on.

That is your version.

My version is that Tony and I

amicably end our relationship.

We agreed I'd keep the apartment

and you and your $600 got dumped on.

- Get the picture?

- Very sharp.

That's very sharp!

You're a sharp New York girl, right?

No, a dull Cincinnati kid.

But you get dumped on enough,

you start to develop an edge.

So what's the deal?

I got a lease in my pocket.

You gonna honor it or what?

I got a daughter in my bed.

That tops the lease in your pocket.

I don't want to get legal.

Legal happens to be on my side.

I happen to have

a lawyer acquaintance downtown.

Now all I gotta do is call

this lawyer acquaintance of mine...

What?

An actor. Another goddamn actor!

"I happen to have a lawyer acquaintance."

Right out of Streetcar Named Desire.

- Stanley Kowalski in summer stock, right?

- Wrong! Chicago in the dead of winter.

Three and a half months

at the Drury Lane Theater.

Ask an actor a question, you get his credits.

Reviews?

"Garfield brings to Kowalski dimensions

even Brando hadn't investigated!"

Terrific! You write beautifully!

Aren't you a little short to play Stanley?

Nobody noticed. I stood on a table.

Are you a critic?

No, I love actors, as long as they stay

up on the stage where they belong.

You put them down in real life

and the whole world gets screwed up.

Well, I have had enough!

I am not getting kicked out

of the same lousy apartment twice.

You want your money back, go to Naples.

You want this apartment,

buy me two tickets to California.

I'll give you two minutes

to think it over before I yell rape.

You are really somethin', you know that?

I'm surprised Tony didn't take a job

in the Philippines.

I hope you're thinking, 'cause I'm counting.

Will you wait a second?

Just hold it! Can we make a deal?

- What kind of a deal?

- I don't know, I just got here.

- Can I have a cup of coffee?

- No!

Don't be bashful,

just say what's on your mind!

All right, here is the situation...

I know the situation!

Let me say it out loud.

I don't believe this myself!

Number one, I have a job off-Broadway

but no place to sleep tonight.

Number two, you don't have any money,

but you've got my apartment.

And you have a daughter to think about.

I am thinking of her right now!

Do me the courtesy of hearing me out! Please!

You are not the only one

who can scream "rape," you know.

We are both in a bind, the two of us.

I think the only practical solution

is that we share the apartment.

I accept.

What?

I accept. I may be stubborn

but I'm not stupid.

Mean it?

I have a daughter who goes to school

and I have to start looking for a job.

You have a key! I'd have to stand guard

all day long to keep you out.

I accept. You win. Get your bags.

You get the small bedroom.

What the hell am I getting myself into?

I'm in the wrong room.

Hi, I'm Elliot.

Hello.

- You must be Lucy.

- That's right.

Elliot Garfield.

I'm moving into the other room.

I'm a friend of Tony's.

You know, Tony DeForrest.

That's nice.

- I'm an actor, too.

- Yeah?

Well, your mother knows.

I see.

- Guess I'll be seein' you around.

- I guess so.

Good night.

Jesus.

Just met Lucy.

- What did you tell her?

- I was moving into the other room.

- She seemed to take it in stride.

- You grow up fast in this apartment.

The john is right over there.

I'll get the rest of her things out

in the morning.

Would you stop grinding your teeth for two

seconds? The noise is driving me crazy.

A dripping stranger from Chicago,

with a wet beard and dirty shoes...

...moves into my daughter's room

and you expect smiles?

You're dynamite. I love listening to you.

I hate living with you,

but your conversation is first-class.

This is your room.

I do not clean or make beds.

You may use the kitchen

or the bathroom when I am not in it...

...and wash it up when you are through!

You pay for your own food,

laundry, linens and phone bills.

I would appreciate some quiet

between 6:
00 and 9:00...

...as that is when Lucy does her homework.

I don't care what you drink or smoke...

...as long as it is not grass

in front of my 10-year-old daughter.

- Do we have everything straight?

- No!

- No?

- I'm not crazy about the arrangements.

- You're not?

- Definitely not!

I'm paying the rent. I'll make the rules.

I like to take showers every morning

and I don't like panties drying on the rod!

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