1-900

If you are calling to talk to one of us hot girls, are using a touch-tone phone and have your credit information handy, please press one now. We can hardly wait to talk to you

"..."

"Please punch in your credit card number, followed by the pound key."

"..."

"Don't go anywhere—we're desperate for your hot love."

"..."

"This is Marilyn, and I'm soooo hot to give you my——"

"Excuse me, Marilyn?"

"Oh, yes, baby, let me have your big——"

"My name's John, OK?"

"..."

"OK?"

"You sound nervous, John. You shouldn't be. I'm gonna do whatever you want me to, baby, and it's gonna be so hot."

"Well, I am a little nervous."

"There's nothing to be nervous about, honey. I'm lying here naked, just thinking of you, John. That's what I'm doing right now. And I'm thinking of taking your——"

"Uh, listen, um, Marilyn—wait. Wait. Please. Do you think we—could we—is there any way we could talk about some other things first? I mean I wonder if we could kind of get to know each other a little. Or anyway seem to get to know each other. Like, can we—talk around a little? You know, just generally? I've come to the conclusion that I need something a little less blunt right-away-into-it kind of thing, you know, and as long as I'm paying for the minutes, I'd think that would be all right. That is all right—right? Is that all right?"

"John, are you gonna talk, honey, or do you want me to?"

"I thought that we would both talk. You know, have a—have a conversation about things in general kind of thing, and, um, lead up to it. That appears to be what I require right now."

"Oh, but I'm all ready for you, honey—"

"I know but I'm not ready yet. I need to talk a little."

"..."

"Is your real name Marilyn?"

"..."

"Hello?"

(continued on page 152)1-900(continued from page 90)

"..."

"I mean, you know my real name."

"Is this a crank call?"

"No, please. Don't hang up. I'd really like to talk to you. I'm not ugly or anything, or weird. I'm 5'11" and I weigh 160 pounds in my stocking feet, as my father used to say, and I have dark blond hair—dishwater blond, I believe they call it. And I'm not saving newspaper articles about assassinations or collecting body parts, you know. None of that, and I don't keep files on famous people and I'm not a disgruntled postal worker or anything at all like that——"

"Whoa, honey, slow down."

"I'm 32 and married, though my wife and I are separated. We have two kids, a boy and a girl, 12 and nine——"

"Let me get a word in, baby. Don't you want me to talk? Is this your idea of conversation?"

"I'm sorry."

"Honey, I want to tell you what I'm doing right now while I think of you, and listen to your sexy sweet voice——"

"Right, but I wanted to talk a little first. Converse a little."

"Really."

"Yes. Do you ... do you have any children?"

"I'm sorry, baby, I can't answer that. Ask me about what I'm doing right now."

"Well—first. I was only—I'm curious. I mean I wondered how this works."

"But I want to get it on with you, baby. Come on, don't make me wait. I'm touching something right now, thinking of you."

"Look, I really would like it if we just talk a little before we get intimate."

"Intimate. You're kidding, right?"

"Well, you know what I mean."

"..."

"I'm still paying for it, right?"

"Sure, that's right—it's your dime, baby."

"So, Marilyn—where did you go to school?"

"..."

"Hello?"

"You're kidding."

"Can you tell me where you went to school?"

"Um, around."

"More than one school? College?"

"..."

"Hello? Was it college?"

"John, I really can't get that personal."

"A second ago you were telling me about touching yourself. I just want to know if you went to college."

"OK, it's been nice talking to you, sexy——"

"Oh, don't hang up. Really. I'm paying for the call. I just asked if you went to college. I have to feel like I know you at least a little bit."

"Look, sweetie, this isn't a date or anything."

"But I'd like to feel that it's something close to it. Isn't this supposed to be about what I need, and am willing to pay for? What's the difference if it's all just talking, right? I mean, that's not too much to ask for a dollar a minute, is it?"

"It's 99 cents a minute."

"Well, but that's a dollar. That's something my wife and I used to fight about. She'd look at something in the store and see eight dollars and 99 cents and she'd think it was eight dollars. I had to remind her about it a lot. My wife and money, that was like a land war in Asia kind of thing."

"Excuse me?"

"We kept throwing more money at everything because we couldn't believe that what we'd already wasted was wasted. That had a lot to do with why we kept on going in Vietnam. We couldn't believe we'd wasted so much life. We couldn't let it mean nothing. You ... you get the point of that?"

"You want to talk about fucking Vietnam? Are you a vet or something?"

"I'm too young to be a vet. I'm interested in history, that kind of thing. You like history, Marilyn?"

"Uh, no. I'm not into that."

"My wife is, big time. As in the history of men keeping women down. The whole oppressive history of women getting screwed by men kind of thing. That's my wife."

"Is that why you're separated?"

"We're separated because she decided I wasn't with the program anymore. Which was true, I guess. The program was basically about the improvement of John T. Bailey, E-S-Q. The perfection of that item, you might say, by a series of continual reminders of everything wrong with him."

"It's kind of pushy, isn't it, reminding somebody about his faults?"

"I wouldn't call it pushy, no. Not exactly. The fact was, there is what you might call a lot of area for improvement. But it used to irritate me, I'll admit that."

"And you want to talk about it?"

"Well, we could, I suppose."

"Like I said, it's your dime."

"Are you married?"

"No."

"How old are you?"

"Look, honey, what did you call us for? This is phone sex."

"But couldn't it be, like, phone friendship for a little while? Just a minute or two?"

"Man, I keep thinking this is some sort of prank or something."

"It's not. I promise you it's not. I'm not the type who plays pranks. I don't even think it's funny when other people do it."

"Well."

"I went to college. I went to West Texas State and majored in history. I didn't learn much. Don't get involved in a land war in Asia. Where did you go?"

"High school. I'm putting myself through college now, and I can talk you through a heavenly experience, too. I can make you hot, and bring you off like a rocket."

"Why are you going to college? I mean, what do you hope to get out of it?"

"An education."

"Is that just to get a better job, or pursue a career, or do you desire to be educated as in somebody who possesses a knowledge of the arts of civilization?"

"You talk funny, John."

"Are you in search of knowledge and cultivation of your spirit?"

"All that."

"Really?"

"Sure, why not?"

"You want a piece of the American dream."

"OK."

"But what is the American dream, anyway? Going to art galleries, or owning a big car and having a house with a swimming pool kind of thing? I mean, I think the American dream is getting on television and being famous."

"Is that what you want, John?"

"No, I'm saying that's the American dream. I've got a little boy who wants to grow up to be famous. That's what he says he wants. He doesn't have the slightest idea how or why or what he'll end up doing, and none of that matters to him. He just wants to be famous. He wants everybody to know his name. That's his big dream. I think there are a lot of people out there like my son, only these are grown people."

"I don't want to be famous."

"Are you seeing anyone?"

"..."

"It's really just a harmless question, Marilyn."

"I'm with you now, honey."

"But are you seeing anyone?"

"How are you going to get anything out of it if I talk about who I'm seeing, John?"

"Well, are you?"

"OK, sure. Yes. I am."

"Does he know you do this?"

"Maybe. Look, I think we ought to get down to something soon, baby. I'm so hot for you."

"My wife didn't play around on me or anything, and I was faithful to her. You've probably figured out that I've never called one of these 900 lines before. I guess that's pretty evident. We had a good life, Kate and me. Her name is Kate. She likes sex, too. We both like it. I'm not one of those types who's never had any loving before, you know? But something got between us. A ... a lethargy."

"Lethargy?"

"It means——"

"I know what it means, honey. Are you telling me you couldn't get it up?"

"Oh, hell no. No, we really didn't have any trouble that way. Not any. We excited each other. She's really very adventurous in bed. We were great that way. But she's a better person than I am, that's pretty clear. We lived a little selfishly, too. I think that's what did us in. But we had fun in bed."

"Tell me what she'd say to you, honey. I can make you feel her."

"No, that isn't it. I'm telling you this to get to know you. You know a little about me. My wife and I hit this ... this lethargic place. I should say straight out that I tend to excess, I admit that. I have a habit of having a little too much to drink now and then, and I used to do some other kinds of substances. She did, too. We had a lot of easy money and we were a pair, let me tell you. She used to keep a big brick of cocaine in her dresser drawer."

"Yikes."

"It's true. But most of that is over, and we had mostly got past all that, and I thought we were doing fine—especially sexually, as I said. We were interested in each other for sex, you see, but there were these other areas——"

"What other area is there, when you get down to it, lover?"

"Well, just—you know—at the level of talk. I found that her voice irritated me."

"And what was her problem with you?"

"Oh, lots of things. Lots of things that it isn't anybody's business to know."

"..."

"I'm sorry, that didn't sound right. I don't mean anything by it."

"Man, this is your money."

"You ever find that somebody's voice gets on your nerves, Marilyn?"

"I guess."

"Does my voice irritate you"

"No."

"You have to say that, thought, right?"

I don't have to say anything, lover."

"How old are you?"

"Oh, baby, I'm old enough. And young enough. How old are you?"

"I'm 32. I already said. So, now, what about you?"

"..."

"Hello? Tell me—come on, you can do that."

"We're not allowed to tell out ages, lover. I'm of age. I'm old enough for anything you want."

"I do like the sound of your voice. You have a very lovely voice."

"Oh, I haven't even started, honey. You don't seem to want to give me a chance."

"Yes, but isn't it a relief not to have to go through the spiel"

"Excuse me?"

"The routine. All that moaning and groaning and sex-detail-talk kind of thing to get some poor lonely stranger off long distance. I'm in South Carolina, for instance. Where are you?"

"Close as your ear."

"But where—really?"

"Washington, DC."

"Are you in a room with other girls talking on phones? I'm picturing you sitting at one of those consoles with all the plugs and the lines, and earphones on, like an operator."

"No, honey—I'm home in bed. I really am. And I'am nacked, and I've got my hand on my——"

"How many calls like this do you handle a day?"

"I've never handled a call like this. I mean I am new and maybe these people take calls like this every day, but it hasn't happened to me yet."

"I really don't want to cause you any discomfort"

"I'm fine. Are you all right"

"Well, that's a question, there, Marilyn. That might take a little time to answer."

"Do you want me to listen, honey"

"You said these people a second ago. So there are others there with you, taking the calls?"

"I meant the other girls who work for this service. Look, this is a service."

"I'm sorry. Really, I'm—uh, I'm curious. I wanted to talk. I mean I do want to get to the sex, too, you know, but I just—since it can't matter to you, really, and might even be a bit or a relief from the types you usually get, and you're still getting paid the going rate."

"..."

"Nobody has ever asked to talk to you ... just as yourself first?"

"Nobody yet."

"I'm the first."

"What did you mean about the types I usually get?"

"Well, what type of person makes this kind of call?"

"Wouldn't you be in a better position to answer that, John?"

"I've never made this type of call before."

"Why do I get the feeling you make this kind of call every day?"

"No, really. This is a first for me."

"Well, I'm not interested in being your friend or listening to your troubles, you know, John? Usually I do most of the talking on these calls. And I wouldn't want to listen to people tell me their troubles all day for any amount of money. That is not my idea of having a good time. That does not sound like a good time at all."

"I didn't mean to complain, actually. Just to be honest, so you could know a little about me and feel that it's all right to say a few small things about yourself and then we would know each other, and when we got down to the sex it would be so much more like the real thing."

"The real—what?"

"Don't be mad, Marilyn. Don't you get a lot guys who are curious about it?"

"Not all that many, no. It's pretty straightforward, usually. Some heavy breathing and I say a few things and it's over."

"Do you get perverts?"

"..."

"I guess that wasn't a fair question."

"Look, are you one of those reporter types looking for a story?"

"No, I'm a separated father of two living alone in an apartment with most of the furniture gone and a lot of disarray I don't need. My wife and kids are hundreds of miles north, with the lion's share of the furniture, and last night I went our and got stinking and came back here and I've been lying here thinking about calling my sister, who is a perfect shit and a prig, and I decided instead to call you."

"To unload your troubles."

"No, and I'm sorry I said anything about it. If that bothers you I won't say another thing about it. I'm just trying to have a real conversation before we get going on things. I need that, or I can't get any pleasure out of it al all, and as we established at the beginning, I am paying for this."

"..."

"I didn't mean that the way it sounded there, Marilyn."

"Why is your sister such a prig, honey?"

"She's the type who says I told you so. Do you know the type?"

"I've known a few of those, yeah."

"Brothers or sisters?"

"Sure."

"You're being automatic now, I can hear it in your voice. You're not paying attention."

"Yeah."

"Yeah, you're not paying attention? Or yeah, you're being automatic?"

"Your voice is nice, baby, and I like the sound of it."

"You do?"

"Why don't you think about how it might be to cozy up together here. I'd love to see you."

"I murdered my grandmother and put her in the freezer this morning."

"Serves her right."

"What?"

"I said it serves her right."

"You are listening."

"Trying to."

"So what are you studying in college, Marilyn?" What's your major?"

"Do you want to do this or not, honey?"

"I just want to know what your major is."

"I told you, we're not supposed to get that personal."

"You're so far away. How is telling me what you're majoring in personal?"

"You know what, man? This is weird. This is positively weird."

"It's unconventional. You're already doing something rather radically unconventional, so why not be unconventional with the conventions of this, which is so unconventional. Why not tell me something that's bothering you? I told you about my impending divorce and my toot, and my shit of a sister who won't take me in and whose husband threw me down the stairs last night so that I almost broke my neck and who told me for years that I was messing up in a big way, and when the mess finally caught up with me and I had to go see her, said I told you so all over again, just in case I'd missed it the first 277,000 times she'd said it."

"Did you say her husband threw you down stairs?"

"Harv's his name. A prince of a guy. A cupcake, old Harv."

"I'd stay away from Harv, lover."

"That's what my sister said. And after I went down the stairs, I got the message—I'm to stay away from old Harv. And you know what Harv does for a living? Harv's a veterinarian. He spends all day taking care of dogs and cats. Got a heart of gold, old Harv. Cries at sad movies kind of thing. A sweetheart. Kindness personified, that guy."

"Do you like pussy cats, lover?"

"They're fine if I don't have to live with one. Do you live with one?"

"I've got three of them."

"I'm allergic. I have allergies that bother me when I'm around them."

"I don't have any allergies."

"Well, now there—that wasn't too much trouble, was it? I know a little something about you now. You live with three cats and you don't have any allergies."

"Do you want me to start now, baby?"

"Not yet, not yet. Not like that. It's got to be natural, you know."

"Natural."

"I'm sober, too, Marilyn. Believe it or not. This is a very sober phone call."

"Why don't you tell me what you're wearing?"

"Aren't I supposed to ask you that?"

"OK. Ask, lover. I think I already said I'm not wearing anything."

"Well, but I wanted to know one problem that you're having in your life—something we could commiserate about, maybe."

"You know what, John? I really don't have that many problems right now. I'm not desperate or unhappy or lonely, particularly. I'm going to school and this is a job. I usually do most of the talking, and I like to talk, so that's all right, too."

"But it's not real talk. It's the same things over and over."

"There's only a few things to say, right?"

"Doesn't that get old? That must get awful boring for you."

"But there's usually somebody soooo interested on the other end of the line. Do you ever tell a joke, John? Do you tell jokes?"

"I see your point."

"It's usually so easy. These guys who call are fast. You know what I'm saying? Most of them already have a start on it."

"But nobody's laughing."

"That isn't what the desired result is, though, right?"

"The whole thing sounds a little pathetic to me. Do they ever ask you to say you love them?"

"Sure, some do. Now and then one does. That's a pretty harmless thing to ask."

"And you don't mind doing that?"

"I'm talking on a telephone, lover."

"Any of them ever scare you?"

"It's usually pretty friendly, and, like I say, I do most of the talking. There's one guy who calls to say what he'd like to do to me—an obscene phone caller. Before we were around he probably upset a lot of nice little housewives."

"What do you see in the future for yourself? You think you'll ever be a nice little housewife, as you put it?"

"Are you writing a book?"

"I wondered if you plan on getting married someday, that's all."

"Sure, why not? And what's wrong with using the word housewife?"

"I think you ought to ask my wife that one. Oh boy, do I. I would love to see what she'd say to that one, I really would."

"She's not a housewifey type?"

"Let's say she is not a housewifey type, yes. Let us just say that. Let us use that as the starting point of any conversations that arise about my, um, er, um, wife. She is not a housewifey type lady."

"OK."

"So you plan on being a housewifey type someday?"

"Why not? Sure."

"Kids?"

"I hope so—someday."

"I've got two kids. I don't get to see them very often these days. What's your major?"

"I haven't decided."

"Do you like a drink now and then?"

"Sure."

"I'm bothering you, right? Don't deny it, because I can hear it in your voice."

"Is my voice starting to irritate you?"

"You know what irritated Kate about me?"

"Your voice?"

"Now you're making fun. You've got me on the speakerphone, right?"

"I don't have a speakerphone, John. What irritated Kate about you?"

"Well, she called it the convoluted nature of my mind. My ... my thoughts. She said I twisted things around in my head until they started to hurt me and then I'd blame her for it. She said I was the most morbid, convoluted son of a bitch she ever saw, and she wasn't even yelling when she said it. Do I seem convoluted to you?"

"I wouldn't say that, lover."

"I like it better when you say my name."

"OK—John."

"Are you younger than 32?"

"Yes."

"And Marilyn is your real name?"

"Well, actually——"

"Please tell me what your real name is, Marilyn. Your first name. I told you mine."

"How do I know you told me your real name?"

"It's on my credit card."

"Honey, they just punch the name through and open the line for me."

"Well, John is my real name. Now please tell me yours."

"..."

"What harm can it do?"

"It's Sharon."

"Hi, Sharon."

"Hi."

"Do you like sports, Sharon?"

"I play tennis."

"I've never played tennis, but I'm a swimmer."

"I swim, too."

"Did you compete?"

"I was second team in high school."

"I won a few medals in college, Sharon."

"No kidding."

"I started out pretty fast. That's where I met Kate. We dated for almost five years."

"Couldn't make up your minds?"

"Well, we lived together."

"Oh."

"You know what happened to me the other day, Sharon? I was in New York, chasing my wife and the kids—did I tell you she took them and ran off? I chased them all the way up to Boston and then came back. She's got all the help and the ammunition. The law on her side, and lawyers, and I'm a convoluted son of a bitch. And my own sister thinks I'm a wash, to use her ridiculous term. Anyway, the other day I was on this street corner in New York, down near the Village, and these two prostitutes were there waiting for the light to change. And I stood next to them, waiting. There wasn't much traffic to speak of. But they stood there. I wanted to say to them—I wanted to ask them why they chose to obey that particular law, you know? Why they were in compliance with the traffic law there and not in compliance with the several other laws they were breaking. Does this make sense to you? I mean, I got arrested for beating down a door and it was like I was a criminal or something—or dangerous. Kate took out this peace bond on me, and it's like I'm on parole."

"You think too much."

"That's what Kate used to say, too."

"Well, maybe you should listen to her."

"I did. I did a lot—all the time. But then there was the fact that her voice started getting on my nerves. My convoluted mind started getting on hers."

"I don't know what to tell you, lover."

"Did you ever have a relationship fall apart?"

"..."

"Maybe not a marriage."

"Actually, John, I've been in and out of relationships. I just haven't found the right one. I think the one I have now might be the right one, only——"

"Only what?"

"Nothing."

"No, you were going to tell me something. That was sweet—come on, Sharon."

"Well, he never actually says the words, you know—that ... that he loves me. I don't believe I'm telling you this."

"And it's important to you that he say it."

"OK—yeah. Right. It is. Wouldn't you wonder about it if you were seeing someone and you said I love you to her all the time and she never said it back?"

"I love you, Sharon."

"..."

"Like that?"

"Well, it would be him saying it. He's very nice and I like being with him. But sometimes he ... he seems to be avoiding it as a subject."

"I love you, Sharon."

"..."

"I love you. I really do—I feel the warmest sense of affection toward you now. Right now it's the truest thing in my whole mistake of a life."

"OK."

"No, I mean it."

"I said OK, lover. I don't think you should keep going on about it."

"That's what Kate used to say."

"..."

"Is he good to you?"

"As a matter of fact, he is. In every other way he is."

"Did you ever have a boyfriend who knocked you around?"

"No, and I wouldn't, either."

"Kate's father was like that. A military guy—with a mean streak. He was always coming up with things to be critical about. Kate grew up with him yelling at her and hitting her. Did you ever have anything like that, growing up?"

"No, thank God."

"Well, it does something to a person. Kate is just as likely to react violently to something. I've never laid a hand on her, of course. I kicked a door in to see my children. Just to lay eyes on them one time, you know. But when she gets mad she tends to think of finding ways to cause you physical pain. She'll hit you or throw something. It's scary as hell sometimes. She's always been the strong one, and she knows it. Not physically, of course. But inside—the one with the iron. The one with the highly developed critical sense. And I do love her, you know. It's not like you can turn that kind of thing on and off like a faucet."

"Different people can do different things, lover."

"Yeah, sure—do you come from good parents?"

"Uh-huh."

"I don't mean it as anything but curiosity about someone I'm very fond of, Sharon."

"Oh, and I'm growing fond of you, too, baby. Oooh, I'd like to have you touch me——"

"Not yet, wait. Just a little more general talk. I really feel something for you now."

"Me, too. I'm getting all hot——"

"Are your parents still living?"

"..."

"Come on, just a little more."

"OK. My parents are still living."

"You get along with them?"

"I never saw much of my father growing up. He and my mother got a divorce when I was small—I was only about five. My mother is fine. She lives in perfect blindness in Chicago."

"By that do you mean she doesn't know what you're doing to put yourself through school?"

"Among other things."

"Such as?"

"She's a devout Catholic. I'm not."

"Were you ever?"

"When I was young, I guess, sure."

"Divorce is hard on a child. I'm worried about my own children. What they think of their father chasing after them like that, banging down doors. They've got to know that means I feel my love for them passionately."

"I guess."

"I'll tell you, Sharon—I'm about at the end of myself. I mean I've reached down and reached down and called up all the reserves and there's nothing left. My family's gone. I think she's got my own children afraid of me. Imagine that."

"You just have to be patient and stick it out, John."

"Well, that's a bromide, Sharon. It's not worthy of you."

"..."

"Hello?"

"I haven't hung up. Yet."

"Yeah, well anyway, I guess that I've proved to myself that I'm not totally off the deep end—I can have a normal conversation."

"..."

"Somewhat normal."

"What's funny, lover?"

"Funny?"

"You laughed just then, didn't you?"

"I love you, Sharon. Does it make you feel good to hear it?"

"Not really, no. It has to be him saying it."

"Can't you use your imagination a little?"

"You're the one who's supposed to be doing that."

"What's to imagine? You'll provide the material, right?"

"OK, if you say so."

"I'm sorry, don't be upset with me, Sharon. I'm harmless, really. And I do feel this tremendous affection for you."

"Why don't you say that to Kate?"

"..."

"Hello?"

"That was kind of you to think of that, Sharon, really."

"Thanks."

"I really do feel this huge affection for you now. It's strange."

"Well, I like you, too."

"You know what, Sharon? I wish I could see you. In fact, I'd like to have you sitting on my lap naked."

"Oh, well——"

"I would. I'd like to nibble the lobes of your ears and get into a bathtub with you and wash you all over. I'd like to put my tongue in your——"

"OK, wait—hold it. Hold on, John. This is where you want to start in on the sex?"

"Why can't you just let it happen naturally?"

"You're kidding me, right?"

"I'm serious as hell, Sharon."

"Look, you know what? I don't feel right about this now. And if you are a reporter, report that one. I don't like you saying that stuff to me now."

"But—hell, Sharon, what do I really know about you? I don't know you that well. Come on. I just asked a few general questions. It was just conversation."

"Well, it's got me spooked, and I'd just as soon leave it there."

"OK, then let's go on talking about my miserable personal life a while, until you feel like going ahead. You start when you're ready. Talking the line—when it seems right for you."

"I started a couple of times, John—and you stopped me."

"The next time, I promise I won't stop you."

"But—see, I don't think it's going to seem right for me. I mean, I don't feel it now, and I wouldn't be very convincing. I'm not feeling all that good, to tell you the truth. I think I feel a migraine coming on."

"Let me get this straight—you have a headache?"

"I don't have a headache. Migraines don't always have to be headaches. I get them like light shows in my eyes and the only thing for it is to lie down until the light show stops. But that isn't the point, really. The point is, I don't feel right about this now."

"You actually require yourself to feel something on these calls?"

"You know what I mean, lover."

"What are you, an actress?"

"OK. Sure."

"You're an actress."

"That's what I said, yes."

"..."

"Hello?

"I love you, Sharon."

"No, I can't. Sorry. Call the number back—you'll get somebody else."

"But I want you."

"Well, you can't have me, OK? I'm not available."

"..."

"I mean, it's just too weird."

"So what you're telling me now is that you've more or less decided not to do your job. Is that right? Do you believe it's right just like that to decide you're not gonna do your job?"

"I'm not really interested in worrying about what's right, now, John."

"But we did have an agreement."

"Hey, thanks for calling."

"Please don't hang up, Sharon. That's no way to end this."

"I really have to go now."

"OK, you do the talking, how about that? I won't say anything. Just do the spiel."

"I can't now. That's what I'm trying to tell you."

"Please?"

"I've been thinking about you all night and I'm here on my warm silk-sheeted bed and lying back in the pretty red light and thinking about you and wishing you were here with me right now kissing me where I like it, John, and——"

"Can't you put a little feeling into it?"

"This is the shit, John. This is what you get for the money."

"It's not very convincing. It's not as good as you sounded before."

"It's the best I can do right now under the circumstances."

"Damn."

"Do you want me to go on?"

"I don't think it would do any good."

"..."

"So what do we do now, Sharon?"

"You should have let me stay Marilyn. I'm better as Marilyn."

"OK, Marilyn. I love you, Marilyn. If I call the number again and I ask for Marilyn, will they put me through to you?"

"They might."

"It's a strange world, Marilyn."

"Only if you let yourself think about it too much. To me, it makes a perfect kind of sense. Now, I really do have to go."

"Hey."

"Yeah?"

"You were sweet, Marilyn."

"You, too."

"I know it wasn't as good for you as it was for me."

"You take care of yourself, John. And try to be happy."

"Thanks, kid. That's excellent advice. I know this isn't an advice line, but thanks anyway. It's kind of you to offer it."

"Bye, John."

"Now there's the note you want—that's sexy as hell the way you said that. If you could manage that tone the next time I call, it would be perfect. Do you think you could manage that tone the next time I call if I ask for Marilyn and they put me through to you?"

"..."

"Hello?"