AUTOGRAPH
By David J. LeMaster
Copyright©2006
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Female, any age.
Female, any age.
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1: Excuse me, but are you Miss Gloria Maria Primadonna, star of stage
and screen?
2: No, you’ve got me mixed up with someone else. Sorry.
1: Oh. (pause) Um, excuse me?
2: Yes, what is it?
1: Are you sure?
2: Of course I’m sure. My name is Alicia Smith. Sorry.
1: No problem. (pause) You’re lying.
2: I beg your pardon?
1: I mean, you’ve got to be Gloria Maria Primadonna.
2: I’m not.
1: Yes you are.
2: Are you insane?
1: No, it’s just—
2: Just what?
1: I just want your autograph.
2: All right, already. Here. (signs a piece of paper)
1: Thank you. Make that to “Jane.”
2: Jane. Right.
1: I knew it was you!
2: Right, whatever. Now just beat it, will you?
1: (looks at autograph) You just signed this Alicia Smith.
2: Yes. That’s my name.
1: But you’re Gloria Maria Primadonna.
2: I’m not!
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Would you sign it for her anyway—
I’d be forging her signature.
You’re just trying to avoid publicity.
No, I’m not.
You’re shy. They say so in the gossip magazines.
Whatever you say.
So sign it to Jane—
I won’t! I’m not Gloria Maria Primadonna, and I won’t pretend to be!
All right.
All right!
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(Pause.)
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Do you even know who Gloria Maria Primadonna is?
Look, do you mind?
I just want to know—
No, I don’t know who she is. Never heard of her.
Star of stage and screen?
No.
Never seen one of her movies.
No.
“The Mad Widow and Miller Village?” “Death and the Governor’s
Wife?” “The Secret Treasure of the Himalayas?”
Those sound awful.
They got great reviews.
Well, I’ve never seen any of them.
I see.
In fact, I wouldn’t know this Gloria Maria Whatever Person if she
tapped me on the shoulder and said “boo.”
You wouldn’t, huh?
No. Sorry.
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(2 turns to go. Pause. 1 taps her on the shoulder)
Boo.
Look, I— (slow realization) You mean, you’re—
Want my autograph?
I don’t even know your movies.
I just told you.
Yeah, but—
Do you know what it’s like to be a star no one recognizes?
I’m sure it’s—
Just once I long for a scathing article in the gossip magazines. A
photographer catches me with my secret lover. A candid photo
coming out of the supermarket. Pictures on the beach. Rumors
about my family, for heaven’s sake. Something!
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2: I’m really not comfortable here—
1: Do you know I was nominated for a Sedwick Award?
2: Is that the Oscar?
1: No—it’s this guy, Bob Sedwick, and he has a favorite movies
website.
2: Oh.
1: I don’t mean to brag—but I came in third place for the Sedwick after
my performance in “The Roaring Jeeps.”
2: I think I missed that one—
1: So did everyone else. It was on cable.
2: Yes, well—
1: Would you like a photograph with me? I can sign it.
2: Sure! Give me a signed photograph.
1: Really?
2: Yes. Whatever it takes.
1: Whatever what takes to what?
2: Nothing.
1: No, really. You’re just asking because you feel sorry for me.
2: No, I—
1: It’s a pity autograph! I won’t have it. You fans think you’re so
important. You treat us stars like garbage. Absolute garbage.
2: But you’re not really a star—
1: What did you say?
2: If you have to tell people you’re a star, then you’re really not a star. I
don’t mean to be—
1: How dare you!
2: I’m sorry—
1: I ought to give you my autograph anyway. Just to teach you a
lesson.
2: All right.
1: But I’m not going to. You have to want it.
2: Really—
1: Beg me.
2: Would you please—
1: I said beg!
2: Look, I—
1: Oh, all right. Here. (signs paper and gives it to 1; sigh)
2: Uh. Thanks.
1: You’re such a fool.
2: What?
1: You really think you’ve got something there, don’t you? An autograph
of someone famous.
2: Well, it’s—
1: Well, you don’t, missy. There’s no such thing as Gloria Maria
Primadonna. So, there!
2: I think you need mental help—
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1: You really don’t recognize me, do you?
2: No, I’ve said—
1: I pretended to be someone famous, just to test you. Just to find out if
you’d recognize the face of the person whose life you completely
destroyed.
2: I’ve never seen you before—
1: Oh, yeah? Well, see if this sounds familiar. Arnold Benjamin Rankin.
Huh? How about that?
2: You mean – you used to be a man?
1: No, you idiot! Arnold was my boyfriend.
2: Oh.
1: The one you stole away from me in eighth grade.
2: What?
1: Did you marry him, you home wrecker?
2: I’ve never even heard of him.
1: Oh, sure you haven’t!
2: Look, you’re insane—
1: We walked home together after school. He lived next door to me.
And one day, you came over and wanted help with your math
homework. And the rest, as they say, is history.
2: I’ve never known anyone named Arnold.
1: And I suppose you’re about to tell me you didn’t go to Riverdale Jr.
High School!
2: I went to West Side.
1: Liar!
2: I did!
1: And I suppose you’re going to tell me your name is Jenny Spivey.
2: It’s Alicia Smith, I told you that.
1: Oh, so that’s your name, is it?
2: Please! Help me, someone! I’m being attacked by a lunatic.
1: You should be so lucky.
2: What do you want? My purse? My money? I’ll give you anything.
Just leave me alone.
1: I don’t want anything. Just the satisfaction of knowing you didn’t
marry Arnold.
2: I didn’t.
1: Did you marry?
2: What’s that got to do with—
1: I’m asking the questions here!
2: No! No, I never married.
1: Good. Then you’re incredibly lonely.
2: Yes. Absolutely.
1: You’re miserable.
2: Yes.
1: Always wanted a husband but couldn’t find one.
2: That’s right.
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Have no friends at all.
None whatsoever.
In complete disarray. Your life is a total mess.
That’s me!
Good. (pause) I lied to you. I really was in those movies.
You were?
That’s right. But I gave you a phony name. My real stage name is
Pamela Newton Roannoke.
Oh, my gosh! You are a star!
That’s right, sister. And you know what else? I wouldn’t give you my
autograph, even if you got down on your knees and begged.
Oh.
So. (Pause) Try it.
What?
The begging thing.
Oh, right. (gets on knees) Please, Miss Roannoke, may I have your
autograph.
Beat it, you star-struck nobody. I’m too good for you. (lingers in the
moment, pause, heavy sigh) That was fun. See you around.
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(SHE walks off, leaving 2 on her knees, dumbfounded. Pause. 2
reacts to a ringing cell phone. SHE digs through her purse and
answers it.)
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2: Hello? (pause) Oh, hello, Arnold, darling. Just shopping. (rises) And
you won’t believe who I just ran into. Do you remember that homely
girl who used to walk you home from school?
(Blackout)
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