Berman on The Telephone

Afashionable mutation of the U.S. nightclub scene is the small, smoky, sometimes-subterranean oasis that parlays low lights and high humor into big business. In the intimate atmosphere of Julius Monk's Downstairs Room and the Blue Angel in Manhattan, Mister Kelly's and the Black Orchid in Chicago, the Hungry i and the Purple Onion in San Francisco, ringsiders (there is often little room to put tables anywhere else) are fed the special, inside humor for highbrows doled out by the likes of Mort Sahl, Irwin Corey, Elaine May and Mike Nichols.

A bright new wit at such watering holes is Shelley Berman, a fey-faced ex-gagwriter, ex-dramatic actor turned monologist whose prop-in-trade is usually the telephone. Shelley's bits of monkey business consist of harried, one-way conversations ("I want to speak with Phyllis Johnson... P-H-Y-L-L... no ...P as in pluvial ... no ...pluvial...P as in polemic...O as in orthochromatic... no...").

Imagine that you are seated in your favorite little club right now as Shelley Berman presents a caricature of a laterising reveler bedeviled by an enormous hangover and no recollection of what occurred at the party he attended the night before. He pampers his head, then dials his host; the humor builds, bit by bit, as Shelley pieces together the events of the previous P.M.

1. Oh. Oh. Oh. Oh. Oh. My tongue is asleep. And my teeth itch. Where is my Alka Seltzer?

2. Oh, my God, don't fizz! Don't be mean, Alka Seltzer. Dissolve! Oh, the hell with it, I'll drink the pieces.

3. Hello, Dave Boy. Howya doing there, David boy?... Dave, would you please whisper. Howya doing, kid?... This is me... It's me... It's your old buddy... It's me, it's old—uh–it's, it's.... Just a minute, Dave, don't press me... Dave, if you nag at me I'll never get it. Isn't that ridiculous! I just got a letter addressed to me this morning. I know my own name as well as I know my own—uh...

4. It's Sam! That's who it is, it's old Sam!... What? Well, how many Sam do you know? ... Uh. Spiro! It's old Sammy Spiro!...

5. How you doing there Dave, how you feeling, fella?... Good, I'm glad to hear that... Not so hot, Dave, I'm a little under the weather from last night's party. That's what I called you up to thank you for–that wonderful party you threw last night... Of course we brought our own liquor, but you provided the electricity and you should be thanked for that... Tell me Dave, did I have a good time?... No, I don't know, Dave... Well, from a certain point in the evening my mind is a complete blank... A few minutes after I arrived... What did I do? ... What? ... Oh, no...Oh, gee, I'm sorry, Dave... The whole window, eh? ... Just came right out, eh? ... Gee, it's a lucky thing there was nobody walking under it at the time, eh? ... Oooooooh... Got him edgewise, eh? Oh, well, they'll put him back together, Dave, those plastic surgeons are wonderful.

6. Gee, Dave, I can't imagine how I managed to break a window. I don't have any cuts or bruises on my hands... I see. Were you very fond of that cat? ... Gee, those things are supposed to land on their feet, aren't they, Dave? ... Poor little fella, how did I manage to do that? ... Oh yeah, yeah, I get the picture. I must have been playing some sort of stupid parlor game there or something... What was I doing? ... I see, and I guess the window was supposed to be Goliath. Well, gee, Dave, you'll probably want a new cat, right? ... Yeah–well, sounds like he's a goner all right.

7... I wish you wouldn't be quite so descriptive about the cat, Dave. I'm not a well man. Dave, I wonder if you'd mind changing the subject to something a little more pleasant. Tell me, Dave, how did your wife enjoy the party?

8... What do you mean, I ought to know?... I did not... I did not... Dave, it was a long, hard party; does it occur to you that I just might have gotten tired and stretched out for a bit in the bedroom? ... Well, I must have thought she was a pile of clothing, Dave, you know how she's built... No, no Dave—I didn't mean it like that. You know I think the world of Myrna– why, I love your wife, Dave... No, no, Dave, you know I didn't mean it like that. Well, Dave, when you come right down to it, the only real damage I caused was a broken window, right? ... No, I won't forget the cat. Dave, in the shape I was in it's lucky that the only thing I threw through the window was a cat... Oh –really? Who? ... Oh, gosh, I hope she isn't angry... That's swell. She was always a pretty good sport, your mother.

9. Listen, Dave, the reason I'm calling, see I'm having these business associates in town for the weekend and I'd like to throw this little shindig and you know how small my place is. So I was wondering if I could use your place this Saturday night. Few drinks, couple of laughs, know what I mean?

10. Dave? Dave? ... Come on, boy, pull yourself together... Dave, stop that now. I can't bear to hear a man cry...