The Goodbye People
Arthur (in his twenties) is expecting a sunrise after reading the newspaper but gets annoyed when the sun does not come up.
Goddamn New York Times…Who ya supposed to believe any more? Who ya supposed to trust? Hello, New York Times? I think we got a problem. We got a definite problem here. Your late City Edition says here, page 70, column 3: “February 22; sunrise: 6:41.” O.K., well it’s six forty-eight right now, and I don’t know what’s happening up in your neighborhood, lady, but down here we got darkness…Well, if you’re just the operator, then who’s responsible, who’s on top of the sunrise situation over there?…City Desk? Fine. Lemme speak to them…(beat) Who’s this? Mr. Mallory? Mr. Mallory, look out your window. What do ya see? That’s called darkness, Mr. Mallory. That’s nighttime you got goin’ on out there. (beat) My name is Arthur Korman, a regular subscriber to your publication, come at great inconvenience to myself to witness the birth of a new day, come on the B.M.T in quest of beauty and getting’ my ass froze off in total blackness down here! What the hell’re you guys usin’ for weather information up there? What’re ya, a buncha gypsies up there! Great. Beautiful. You’re sorry. Meanwhile I’m down here at Coney Island, alone in the dark, and you guys’re up there in leather chairs, drinkin’ hot coffee and makin’ the news up outa your head! Of course you wanna hang up on me now. What difference do I make, right? You don’t need me…I’m just a victim of your imaginary weather reports, the hell with me, right? The sunrise, the sunset; that’s responsibility, fella…Hello? Hello? Hello, Mallory?… They hung up. (talking to himself again) Can’t believe they hung up on me, goddamn gypsies…I mean, look at that…what the hell is that? Blackness! I mean, am I being unreasonable? What about the front page here? What about “insert recent newspaper headline”? I don’t believe that either now! Really, who ya supposed to trust anymore?