The Boys in the Band Page #3

A reliable, hardworking,

floor-scrubbing,

bill-paying fag, who don't

owe nothin' to nobody.

I am a model fairy.

You think it's just nifty...

how I've always flitted

from Beverly Hills

to Rome to Acapulco

to Amsterdam...

picking up a lot of

one night stands.

And a lot of custom-made duds

along the trail.

Well, I'm here to tell you

that the only place

in all those miles--

The only place I've ever been

happy was on the goddamn plane.

Run, charge,

run.

Borrow, make.

Spend...run.

Waste, waste, waste.

And why?

And why?

Fini. Applause.

There's nothing

quite as good

as feeling sorry

for yourself, is there?

Nothing.

I adore cheap sentiment.

Backstage, New Moon.

Alan. My God!

I don't believe it.

How are you?

Uh, listen, Michael,

w-what are you doing tonight?

Oh, I'm all tied up tonight.

Uh, no, tonight's

no good for me.

Oh, I'm all tied up too,

but I...

I thought I might just

drop by for a drink?

Oh, you mean now?

Oh, um...

well, Alan,

old buddy, um...

well, you see,

it's a friend's birthday,

and I'm having some people in.

I'm sorry I can't ask you

to join us,

but I'm afraid it just

wouldn't work out, kiddo.

Is it place cards?

No, it's not. It's just--

Oh, well, I'd hate to see you

for just for ten minutes.

Oh, Mickey, please.

Alan? What's wrong?

Mickey, I've gotta see you

about something right away.

W-well, um-- Now, look, um--

Come on over.

Oh, no. That's

perfectly okay.

Um...just come on over,

and we'll have a quick drink.

It's the same old address?

Okay.

Well, am I stunning?

You're absolutely

stunning.

You look like sh*t,

but I'm absolutely stunned.

Your grapes are,

how you say, sour?

Listen, you won't believe

what just happened.

Hey, where's my drink?

Oh, I didn't make it.

I've been

on the phone.

It was my old roommate

from Georgetown just called.

Oh, Alan, um,

what's-his-name?

McCarthy. He's up here

from Washington.

On business or something.

And he's on

his way over here.

Well, I hope he knows

the lyrics to "Happy Birthday."

Listen, a**hole,

what am I gonna do?

He's straight.

Square City.

I mean, he's really terribly proper.

Awfully good family.

Oh, that's so important.

I mean, his family looks down on people in the theater.

So, what do you think

he'll feel about

this freak show I've got

booked in for dinner?

Oh, Christ,

is that good.

He really lost his spring

on the telephone.

He started crying. And

that's not his style at all.

He's so goddamn pulled together,

he wouldn't show any emotion

if he was in a plane crash.

What am I gonna do?

Are you suddenly ashamed

of your friends?

Donald, you are the only person

I know whom I'm truly ashamed.

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