Glengarry Glen Ross (4 page)

Lingk:
Did I . . . ?

Roma:
Yes.

Lingk:
I don’t know.

Roma:
Or a
piss
. . . ? A great meal fades in reflection. Everything else gains. You know why? ‘Cause it’s only food. This shit we eat, it keeps us going. But it’s only food. The great fucks that you may have had. What do you remember about them?

Lingk:
What do I . . . ?

Roma:
Yes.

Lingk:
Mmmm . . .

Roma:
I don’t know. For
me,
I’m saying, what it is, it’s probably not the orgasm. Some broads, forearms on your neck, something her
eyes
did. There was a
sound
she made . . . or, me, lying, in the, I’ll tell you: me lying in bed; the next day she brought me café au lait. She gives me a cigarette, my balls feel like concrete. Eh? What I’m saying, what is our life?
(Pause.)
It’s looking forward or it’s looking back. And that’s our life. That’s
it.
Where is the
moment
?
(Pause.)
And what is it that we’re afraid of? Loss. What else?
(Pause.)
The
bank
closes. We get
sick,
my wife died on a plane, the stock market collapsed . . . the house burnt down . . . what of these happen . . . ? None of ‘em. We worry anyway. What does this mean? fm not
secure.
How can I be secure?
(Pause.)
Through amassing wealth beyond all measure? No. And
what’s beyond all measure? That’s a sickness. That’s a trap. There is no measure. Only greed. How can we act? The right way, we would say, to deal with this: “There is a one-in-a-million chance that so and so will happen . . . .
Fuck
it, it won’t happen to
me
. . . .” No. We know that’s not the right way I think.
(Pause.)
We say the
correct
way to deal with this is “There is a one-in-so-and-so chance this will happen . . . God
protect
me. I am powerless, let it not happen to me . . . .” But no to
that.
I say. There’s something else. What is it? “If it happens, AS IT MAY for that is not within our powers, I will
deal
with it, just as I do
today
with what draws my concern today.” I say
this
is how we must act. I do those things which seem correct to me
today.
I trust myself. And if security concerns me, I do that which
today
I think will make me secure. And every day I
do
that, when that day
arrives
that I need a reserve, (a) odds are that I have it, and (b) the
true
reserve that I have is the strength that I have of
acting each day
without fear.
(Pause.)
According to the dictates of my mind.
(Pause.)
Stocks, bonds, objects of art, real estate. Now: what are they?
(Pause.)
An opportunity. To what? To make money? Perhaps. To
lose
money? Perhaps. To “indulge” and to “learn” about ourselves? Perhaps.
So fucking what?
What
isn’t?
They’re an
opportunity.
That’s
all. They’re an
event.
A guy comes up to you, you make a call, you send in a brochure, it doesn’t matter, “There’ re these
properties
I’d like for you to see.” What does it mean? What you
want
it to mean.
(Pause.)
Money?
(Pause.)
If that’s what it signifies to you. Security?
(Pause.)
Comfort?
(Pause.)
All it is is THINGS THAT HAPPEN TO YOU.
(Pause.)
That’s all it is. How are they different?
(Pause.)
Some poor newly married guy gets run down by a cab. Some
busboy
wins the lottery.
(Pause.)
All it is, it’s a carnival. What’s special . . . what
draws
us?
(Pause.)
We’re all different.
(Pause.)
We’re not the same.
(Pause.)
We are not the same.
(Pause.)
Hmmm.
(Pause. Sighs.)
It’s been a long day.
(Pause.)
What are you drinking?

Lingk:
Gimlet.

Roma:
Well, let’s have a couple more. My name is Richard Roma, what’s yours?

Lingk:
Lingk. James Lingk.

Roma:
James. I’m glad to meet you.
(They shake hands.)
I’m glad to meet you, James.
(Pause.)
I want to show you something.
(Pause.)
It might mean
nothing
to you . . . and it might not. I don’t know. I don’t know anymore.
(Pause. He takes out a small map and spreads it on a table.)
What is that? Florida. Glengarry Highlands. Florida.

“Florida.
Bullshit.
” And maybe that’s true; and that’s what
I
said: but look
here:
what is this? This is a piece of land. Listen to what I’m going to tell you now:

ACT TWO

The real estate office. Ransacked. A broken plate-glass window boarded up, glass all over the floor.
Aaronow
and
Williamson
standing around, smoking.

Pause.

Aaronow:
People used to say that there are numbers of such magnitude that multiplying them by two made no difference.
(Pause.)

Williamson:
Who used to say that?

Aaronow:
In school.
(Pause.)

Baylen,
a detective, comes out of the inner office.

Baylen:
Alright . . . ?

Roma
enters from the street.

Roma:
Williamson
. . .
Williamson,
they stole the
contracts
. . . ?

Baylen:
Excuse me, sir . . .

Roma:
Did they get my contracts?

Williamson:
They got . . .

Baylen:
Excuse me, fella.

Roma:
. . . did they . . .

Baylen:
Would you excuse us, please . . . ?

Roma:
Don’t
fuck
with me, fella. I’m talking about a fuckin’ Cadillac car that you owe me . . .

Williamson:
They didn’t get your contract. I filed it before I left.

Roma:
They didn’t get my contracts?

Williamson:
They-excuse me . . .
(He goes back into inner room with the
Detective.)

Roma:
Oh,
fuck. Fuck. (He starts kicking the desk.)
FUCK FUCK FUCK! WILLIAMSON!!! WILLIAMSON!!!
(Goes to the door;
Williamson
went into, tries the door; it’s locked.)
OPEN THE FUCKING . . . WILLIAMSON . . .

Baylen
(coming out):
Who are you?

Williamson
comes out.

Williamson:
They didn’t get the contracts.

Roma:
Did they . . .

Williamson:
They got, listen to me . . .

Roma:
Th . . .

Williamson:
Listen to me: They got
some
of them.

Roma:
Some of them . . .

Baylen:
Who told you . . . ?

Roma:
Who told me wh . . . ? You’ve got a fuckin’, you’ve . . . a . . . who is this . . . ? You’ve got a board-up on the window. . . .
Moss
told me.

Baylen
(Looking back toward the inner office.): Moss
. . . Who told him?

Roma:
How the fuck do
I
know?
(To
Williamson:)
What
. . .
talk
to me.

Williamson:
They took
some
of the con . . .

Roma:
. . . some of the contracts . . . Lingk. James Lingk. I closed . . .

Williamson:
You closed him yesterday.

Roma:
Yes.

Williamson:
It went down. I filed it.

Roma:
You did?

Williamson:
Yes.

Roma:
Then I’m over the fucking top and you owe me a Cadillac.

Williamson:
I . . .

Roma:
And I don’t want any fucking shit and I don’t give a shit, Lingk puts me over the top, you filed it, that’s fine, any other shit kicks out
you
go back. You . . .
you
reclose it, ‘cause I
closed
it and you . . . you owe me the car.

Baylen:
Would you excuse us, please.

Aaronow:
I, um, and may . . . maybe they’re in . . . they’re in . . . you should, John, if we’re ins . . .

Williamson:
I’m sure that we’re insured, George . . .
(Going back inside.)

Roma:
Fuck insured. You owe me a car.

Baylen
(Stepping back into the inner room):
Please don’t leave. I’m going to talk to you. What’s your name?

Roma:
Are you talking to me?
(Pause.)

Baylen:
Yes.
(Pause.)

Roma:
My name is Richard Roma.

Baylen
goes back into the inner room.

Aaronow:
I, you know, they should be insured.

Roma:
What do
you
care . . . ?

Aaronow:
Then, you know, they wouldn’t be so ups . . .

Roma:
Yeah. That’s swell. Yes. You’re right.
(Pause.)
How are you?

Aaronow:
I’m fine. You mean the
board
? You mean the
board
. . . ?

Roma:
I don’t . . . yes. Okay, the board.

Aaronow:
I’m, I’m, I’m, I’m fucked on the board.
You.
You see how . . . I . . .
(Pause.)
I can’t . . . my mind must be in other places. ‘Cause I can’t do any . . .

Roma:
What
? You can’t do any
what? (Pause.)

Aaronow:
I can’t close ‘em.

Roma:
Well, they’re old. I saw the shit that they were giving you.

Aaronow:
Yes.

Roma:
Huh?

Aaronow:
Yes. They are old.

Roma:
They’re ancient.

Aaronow:
Clear . . .

Roma:
Clear Meadows. That shit’s dead.
(Pause.)

Aaronow:
It
is
dead.

Roma:
It’s a waste of time.

Aaronow:
Yes.
(Long pause.)
I’m no fucking good.

Roma:
That’s . . .

Aaronow:
Everything I . . .
you
know . . .

Roma:
That’s not . . . Fuck that shit, George. You’re a,
hey,
you had a bad month. You’re a good man, George.

Aaronow:
I am?

Roma:
You hit a bad streak. We’ve all . . . look at this: fifteen units Mountain View, the fucking things get stole.

Aaronow:
He said he filed . . .

Roma:
He filed half of them, he filed the
big
one. All the little ones, I have, I have to go back and . . . ah,
fuck,
I got to go out like a fucking schmuck hat in my hand and reclose the . . .
(Pause.)
I mean, talk about a bad streak. That would sap
anyone’s
self confi . . . I got to go out and reclose all my . . . Where’s the phones?

Aaronow:
They stole . . .

Roma:
They stole the . . .

Aaronow:
What. What kind of outfit are we running where . . . where anyone . . .

Roma
(To himself):
They stole the phones.

Aaronow:
Where criminals can come in here . . . they take the . . .

Roma:
They stole the phones. They stole the leads. They’re . . .
Christ. (Pause.)
What am I going to do this month? Oh,
shit
. . .
(Starts for the door.)

Aaronow:
You think they’re going to catch . . . where are you going?

Roma:
Down the street.

Williamson
(Sticking his head out of the door):
Where are you going?

Roma:
To the restaura . . . what do you fucking . . . ?

Williamson:
Aren’t you going out today?

Roma:
With what?
(Pause.)
With what, John, they took the leads . . .

Williamson:
I have the stuff from last year’s . . .

Roma:
Oh. Oh. Oh, your “nostalgia” file, that’s fine. No. Swell. ‘Cause I don’t have to . . .

Williamson:
. . . you want to go out today . . . ?

Roma:
‘Cause I don’t have to
eat
this month. No. Okay.
Give
’em to me . . .
(To himself:)
Fucking Mitch and Murray going to shit a br . . . what am I going to
do
all . . .

Williamson
starts back into the office. He is accosted by
Aaronow.

Aaronow:
Were the leads . . .

Roma:
. . . what am I going to
do
all month . . . ?

Aaronow:
Were the leads insured?

Williamson:
I don’t know, George, why?

Aaronow:
‘Cause, you know, ‘cause they weren’t, I know that Mitch and Murray uh . . .
(Pause.)

Williamson:
What?

Aaronow:
That they’re going to be upset.

Williamson:
That’s right.
(Going back into his office. Pause. To
Roma:) You want to go out today . . . ?

Pause.
Williamson
returns to his office.

Aaronow:
He said we’re all going to have to go talk to the guy.

Roma:
What?

Aaronow:
He said we . . .

Roma:
To the cop?

Aaronow:
Yeah.

Roma:
Yeah. That’s swell.
Another
waste of time.

Aaronow:
A waste of time? Why?

Roma:
Why
? ‘Cause they aren’t going to find the guy.

Aaronow:
The cops?

Roma:
Yes. The cops. No.

Aaronow:
They aren’t?

Roma:
No.

Aaronow:
Why don’t you think so?

Roma:
Why? Because they’re
stupid.
“Where were you last night . . . ”

Aaronow:
Where were you?

Roma:
Where was
I
?

Aaronow:
Yes.

Roma:
I was at home, where were
you
?

Aaronow:
At home.

Roma:
See
. . . ? Were you the guy who broke in?

Aaronow:
Was I?

Roma:
Yes.

Aaronow:
No.

Roma:
Then don’t sweat it, George, you know why?

Aaronow:
No.

Roma:
You have nothing to hide.

Aaronow
(Pause):
When I talk to the police, I get nervous.

Roma:
Yeah. You know who doesn’t?

Aaronow:
No, who?

Roma:
Thieves.

Aaronow:
Why?

Roma:
They’re inured to it.

Aaronow:
You think so?

Roma:
Yes.
(Pause.)

Aaronow:
But what should I
tell
them?

Roma:
The truth, George. Always tell the truth. It’s the easiest thing to remember.

Williamson
comes out of the office with leads.
Roma
takes one, reads it.

Roma
:
Patel
? Ravidam
Patel
? How am I going to make a living on these deadbeat
wogs
? Where did you get this, from the
morgue
?

Williamson:
If you don’t want it, give it back.

Roma:
I don’t “want” it, if you catch my drift.

Williamson:
I’m giving you
three
leads. You . . .

Roma:
What’s the fucking point in
any
case . . . ? What’s the
point.
I got to argue with
you,
I got to knock heads with the
cops,
I’m busting my
balls,
sell you
dirt
to fucking
deadbeats
money in the
mattress,
I come back you can’t even manage to keep the contracts safe, I have to go back and close them
again
. . . . What the fuck am I wasting my time, fuck this shit. I’m going out and reclose last week’s . . .

Williamson:
The word from Murray is: leave them alone. If we need a new signature he’ll go out himself, he’ll be the
president,
just come
in,
from out
of town
. . .

Roma:
Okay, okay, okay, gimme this shit. Fine.
(Takes the leads.)

Williamson:
Now, I’m giving you three . . .

Roma:
Three? I count
two.

Williamson:
Three.

Roma:
Patel? Fuck
you.
Fuckin’
Shiva
handed him a million dollars, told him “sign the deal,” he wouldn’t sign. And Vishnu, too. Into the bargain. Fuck
that,
John. You know your business, I know mine. Your business is being an
asshole,
and I find out whose fucking
cousin
you are, I’m going to go to him and figure out a way to have your
ass
. . . fuck you—I’ll wait for the new leads.

Shelly Levene
enters.

Levene:
Get the
chalk.
Get the
chalk
. . . get the
chalk
! I closed ‘em! I
closed
the cocksucker. Get the chalk and put me on the
board.
I’m going to Hawaii! Put me on the Cadillac board, Williamson! Pick up the fuckin’ chalk. Eight units. Mountain View . . .