If Women Shopped as Men do

(With apologies to George S. Kaufman)

by Tony Manzo

A clothing store. The men's section abuts the women's, though only a small portion of the latter is visible.

Three men, PETE, JOE and RALPH, are shopping. Pete is big and burly; Joe is of medium build; Ralph, in pleated trousers, is best dressed. They're examining merchandise with an intensity worthy of a better cause. Ralph catches his reflection in a mirror and primps before it, smoothing an errant brow. He undoes a button and fluffs his chest hair. Joe removes an extravagantly colored shirt from the rack, holds it up and says, feelingly, to no one in particular:

JOE

Oh, is this cute! (Looks at it more critically) Naah. (Replaces it on the rack)

Pete takes a suit off the rack and holds it pressed against his body, shoulders back, one leg stylishly extended for his greater allure.

PETE

Well?

JOE

Fabulous! Black really sets your hair off.

PETE

(Vainly touching his hair)

You think?

JOE

Definitely. Try on the jacket.

PETE

(Looking at a tag on the sleeve)

I really shouldn't, it's so pricey.

As Pete tries on the jacket:

RALPH

Black black black. I don't get it. Why does everyone want to look like an Amish undertaker?

JOE

(Significantly)

Not everyone. At least not our little friend Victor.

RALPH

(Very interested)

You saw him? Where?

JOE

The gym, where else? Wearing -- listen to this! -- lime-green sweat pants, a T-shirt of mucous membrane pink,

and shrieking-red Reeboks. I thought my eyes would pus! He

sends regards, by the way.

RALPH

(Viciously)

Oh, isn't he the polite one. (Hoping it isn't so.) Still

thin as ever, I suppose. Ugh! Little Mr. Perfect.

Joe had reached into a bin for a sealed packet of underwear.

JOE

This is rich. (To Ralph.) Playtex?, the company that makes the bra that lifts and separates?

RALPH

Yeah?

JOE

Look. (Shows the packet.) Now they're making men's underwear.

RALPH

(Thinks)

...I wouldn't chance it.

They giggle. Pete writhes in the too-small jacket.

PETE

Oooo! I feel like a moose on top.

He adjusts his pectoral muscles, pushing and pulling at them with cupped hands.

JOE

Those wide cut lapels are very flattering. Makes your face look thinner, too. Lift your chin. (Pete does as told) No-no, both of them.

Joe and Ralph giggle.

PETE

Very funny.

JOE

Turn for the view.

Pete turns his back to them.

RALPH

(To Joe, touching the bottom of the jacket)

Side vents.

PETE

(Over his shoulder; injured)

No good?

RALPH

For a guy of your size, Pete, you've got the cutest little tush. Flaunt it, I say. Chicks love tush.

JOE

He's right, you know. Show tush to get tush -- my

philosophy.

PETE

Oh, please, I'm flat as a board back there. (Lifts

the back of the suit jacket to show.) It's embarrassing.

RALPH

Well, you certainly have more than I have.

They compare buttocks, back to back.

RALPH (Cont'd)

I'm practically legally rumpless.

JOE

Here's what I do. Trust me on this, fellas. (Turns sideways.) If you're wearing a jean jacket and want a nice full look at the derriere, simply haul-up the trousers like so, and cinch them -- just a tuck -- here, right above the tummy. See? Big difference.

Ralph and Pete consider his profile with approval.

PETE

I envy you. You're so high waisted, and such slender legs. (To himself, squeezing his thighs.) If only I could hide these stubby stumps.

JOE

Do as Ralph does. Pleated pants work wonders; they'll conceal even the chubbiest thighs.

RALPH

(To Joe, haughtily)

I wear loose fitting, pleated trousers for reasons of fashion which you could not possibly begin to appreciate.

JOE

(Matching him)

Well, excuse me!

Joe and Pete exchange a message with their eyes as Ralph adjusts his trousers. Suddenly, in a volatile shift of mood:

RALPH

(Excitedly)

Which reminds me! Remember Cynthia? Tall girl, always wears brown nail polish, brown lipstick -- looks like she has a liver condition?

JOE

Yes? (Waits expectantly.) Well?

RALPH

(Bright with a secret)

Notice she's put on some weight recently?

A beat. Then it dawns on Ralph and Joe and they SCREAM simultaneously.

RALPH

(Drawing a zipper across his mouth)

You didn't hear it from me.

PETE

So who's the proud father?

RALPH

Well. I understand she's narrowed it down to men of voting age in North America.

They giggle. Joe spots a French beret.

JOE

Oh, isn't this a kicky little thing! (He tries it on.)

RALPH

(Thrilled)

It's just adorable on you. I love it! May I?

JOE

Of course.

Joe hands Ralph the hat; Ralph places it at a rakish angle on his head.

JOE

Voila!

PETE

With a black turtleneck. Exquisite.

JOE

Or a striped crew sweater. Absolutely delicious.

RALPH

It's not too "too"?

JOE

Are you kidding? It's so you!

JOE

(Thinks for a second; brightly)

...I'll get one if you get one.

RALPH

(Quickly)

O.K. But you have to tell me when you're wearing yours. And I'll tell you when I'm wearing mine. O.K.?

JOE

O.K.

PETE

Watch my bag. I'm gonna try on the pants. (While exiting, to himself:) I hope the 32 waist is big enough.

The fun dies on Joe and Ralph's faces as they watch Pete exit. They turn to each other to dish.

RALPH

(Conspiratorially)

Him? In a 32 waist? (A short mirthless laugh.) He'll castrate himself trying.

JOE

Well, he'll just be completing the job his wife began 8 months ago. (Shakes his head sympathetically.) Poor ole Pete.

RALPH

He has aged hasn't he? Did you notice his hand?

JOE

Liver spots?

RALPH

(Whispering)

He's not wearing his wedding ring.

JOE

He said it's being adjusted 'cause his fingers so got fat.

RALPH

(Cattily)

Oh, is that the claim. How convenient.

JOE

You heard different? (No response. Urgently:) Tell me!

Joe looks at Ralph a moment then picks up a packaged shirt.

RALPH

Do you like button-down or spread collars? Actually, I'm

more partial to --

Ralph rips the packaged shirt from Joe and flings it like Frisbee.

JOE

Tell me!

RALPH

(Considers; reluctantly)

You have to swear you won't breathe a word of this

to anyone.

JOE

I swear. (Ralph looks at him skeptically.) I swear!

RALPH

...Well. According to Alan -- you remember Alan.

JOE

(Hungrily)

Yeah-yeah-g'head.

RALPH

Anyway --

Two WOMEN enter frame. Ralph and Joe turn to them. One is carrying a shopping bag, the other a list. They shop as men do. WOMAN #1 consults her list.

WOMAN #1

I need a dress.

WOMAN #2

What size?

WOMAN #1

I think seven.

Woman #2 pulls two dresses off the rack and holds them up.

WOMAN #2

Green or orange?

WOMAN #1

Either.

Woman #2 keeps one dress, throws the other on top of the rack.

WOMAN #2

How about shoes?

WOMAN #1

Nah. I got a pair at home. (Consults list.) And grab me one of them blouses.

Woman #2 does as directed. They exit. Joe and Ralph look at each and concur.

JOE/RALPH

Woman!

JOE

(Impatiently)

So. "According to Alan" what? Finish the story.

BLACK OUT.