Love In The Time Of Apps (26 page)

The show took a mandatory break and when it returned the camera panned the audience. Goodwin sounded like his great grandmother when the Cossacks invaded pillaged her village. He whispered uncharacteristically and strangely in a deep Yiddish accent, “Oy, mine God.” Sophie was sitting in an aisle seat, dressed rather shabbily, and waiving her hand frantically. Goodwin began chanting, “Please God, please God, please God. I really need you now.” God, however, did not respond. Goodwin could not blame him, however. “After all,” he reasoned, “I only call when I need him and I play golf on the High Holy days and I eat pork and when I was a youngster and went to Hebrew school I once threw my yarmulke into a garbage can on the way home.” It was interesting how that last sin had stuck with Goodwin all his life and caused him to worry about it coming back to bite him. He now knew that his fears were justified.

Vinfrey, microphone in hand, began to wend her way through the audience all of whose members desperately wanted to ask the Two Sheilas a question or to make a comment. While the mathematical
odds of Vinfrey choosing to stop by Sophie were slim, Goodwin realized that in this instance it was preordained. Thus, when Vinfrey finally stopped in front of Sophie, Goodwin was not surprised. He braced himself.

Vinfrey handed Sophie a microphone. “I don’t have a question, but a comment. I knew Philip Goodwin carnally and I am here to tell you, that he is a wonderful man and a wonderful lover. People misjudge him. He’s kind and caring and, as I said, a wonderful lover.”

Some booing erupted, but Vinfrey hushed the audience. “Well Miss...”

“D’Amour, Sophie D’Amour. I’m the Sophie that everyone has been looking for. I had carnal knowledge with him.”

“You mean,” Vinfrey inquired, “that you had sexual congress with him?”

“Yes.”

“Sophie, that’s a pretty strong claim. You know many people make up stories just to get on television. Why should we believe you?”

“Well, I have the video of our sexual encounter in Bloomingdales with me to prove it.”

At the beckoning of Obrah who had run down to the audience, Sophie stood up and moved to the single aisle that bisected the television audience. Obrah and Vinfrey now flanked her.

“Would you please repeat what you just said?”

Speaking into the microphone held by Obrah, Sophie said, “I don’t have a question, rather a comment. As I said, I had carnal knowledge with Philip Goodwin.”

“For those of you in the television audience not familiar with the terms carnal knowledge or sexual congress,” Obrah interrupted, “it’s the F word.”

“As I said, he’s a wonderful man. I’m here to defend him. And I am not some crazy person. I have the video from the Bloomingdale’s security camera with me and it shows us making love.”

Vinfrey wasted no time and in a commanding tone shouted: “Call the security guards!”

“Thank you, God,” Goodwin said to the ceiling. “I’ll never take your name in vain again. Maybe they were not going to let beautiful,
misguided, Sophie show the video. After all, there are still some standards left.”

The show took a second mandatory commercial break. God, it appeared, was also on a commercial break or His cell phone was out of range, since He didn’t answer Goodwin’s prayers. Apparently, when AT&T announced it had “more bars in more places” heaven was not included, not yet at least. When the show resumed, Sophie was on stage and was hugging the Two Sheilas. All appeared to be weeping. The scene evoked, “Aren’t they wonderful?” from the hostesses.

The security guard entered behind an accountant-type. At the nod of Vinfrey, the man opened his attaché case and revealed its contents to the television audience, evoking a collective “oooooo” from the audience. Vinfrey, her tone quite serious, addressed Sophie, but looked directly into the television camera as she did so. “Sophie, this attaché case contains $300,000, which we are offering you for the video. In addition, we will give you 10 percent of the revenue we derive from the sales of the video at retail. If you accept it, the video will become our property and will be shown immediately after the next commercial break. You might be able to sell the video for more and negotiate a better deal, but we think this is a good offer.”

“Oh no, I could never sell the video or compromise Philip’s privacy in that way. I just came by to explain what Philip was really like. You’ll have to take my word for it.”

Vinfrey was used to this type of initial resistance. A guest would frequently come on and then, motivated by silly concerns of conscience, refuse to “tell all.” Vinfrey speaking like a hypnotist said: “Sophie, look at me. Look at the television cameras. It’s your chance at being on national television, maybe become a real celebrity.” Obrah and Vinfrey and the Two Sheilas, echoed, “Be a celebrity, be a celebrity, be a celebrity…” Then, the coup de gras, “Why you might even have your own television show.” To bolster Vinfrey’s pitch, Great Aunt Hilly interjected with a wink or her eye or an uncontrolled tic, “Take it from one who knows. Do not pass this up. Look, I’ll introduce you to my agent.”

Sophie was perplexed, made more so by audience chants of “Sell, sell,” or “hold out...hold out.”

“I don’t know. It seems wrong.” She turned to the Two Sheilas and asked, “What do you think I should do?”

Being of one mind, they responded in unison, “Sophie, in the language of television shows,
The Price Is Right.
Philip will be in
Jeopardy
and this will help us in our
Family Feud
. So while it can be a
Deal or No Deal,
we think Deal is better. After all you would be
Lost
without the money. We suppose some
Mad Men
would turn it down, but you’re sane. In fact, you would become
The Biggest Loser
if you didn’t take it. And if you do take it you’ll ultimately be filled with
Glee,
probably become an
American Idol
and by doing this you will help us
Smash
Philip Goodwin and destroy his
House of Cards.
And don’t worry if it causes a
Scandal.
” The audience began to laugh, applaud and nod in appreciation.

“After the commercial break,” Vinfrey announced as she handed the money to Sophie, “we’ll see Philip Goodwin having raw unadulterated sex with Sophie, and because of the newsworthiness of the video we will not delete any of its portions regardless of the video’s sexual content. This is not sex, its news. If sex between consenting adults were shown for entertainment, it would be pornography and would be banned. If sex is shown as news, it’s perfectly acceptable.”

As Vinfrey was talking, the camera focused in tight on Sophie. There were tears in her eyes, and in Goodwin’s eyes, too.

1-800-DUMP PHIL/ 1-800-KEEP PHIL

G
oodwin was running full tilt through the byways of Grace Harbor. It was the only way he could vent and possibly cope with the amalgam of sadness, anger, and frustration that took hold of him as Sophie was about to offer up the video of their splendid one night stand. Goodwin imagined that by now, perhaps an hour after the show, the video had gone viral. He thought of their night at the Forties when they swore their unequivocal love for each other. “What was that all about?” he wondered.

As Goodwin exited the residential section of Grace Harbor and began to run along its waterfront, a psychological shift occurred. His defense mechanisms kicked in. Irrationally perhaps, he came to the conclusion that the Two Sheilas had seduced a fragile Sophie into selling the video. She was just an innocent victim. After all, he reasoned, she went to the show with good intentions. Whether his reasoning was sound didn’t really matter. Goodwin, or more likely his subconscious, had erected this premise to shield him from the unbearable realization that Sophie betrayed him and did so for the most obvious of reasons: money. Once he accepted the fact that the only ones at fault in this case were the Two Sheilas, not poor Sophie, he felt a degree of comfort. Now that blame was cast into the proper place his sadness morphed into intense hatred. He sped up his pace.

At the far end of a dock and not knowing how he got there, Goodwin stopped, took out his cell phone, and placed a call to the Two Sheilas’ public phone number.

“Hello, this is The Sheila. We are not in right now, but your message is important to us. If this is a call to ask for a license to use our name or likeness, please call our agent Speedy Lazar at Melrose 5-5300. If not, please leave a message after the beep.”

His message was short, but heartfelt. This time there was no ranting. In a deliberate and what the media described the following morning as an “ominous tone,” Goodwin said, “You’ve ruined my life. I’m going get revenge.” Then, using a line which originated in
The Fly
and which has since become hackneyed, he said “Be afraid. Be very afraid.” He later admitted, “Not only was what I said stupid, it wasn’t even original.”

He welcomed the evening. A chance to sleep would provide a minor escape from the world around him. As soon as his head hit the pillow Goodwin fell into a deep sleep, one not aided or abetted by alcohol or drugs. He dreamt that he had the guillotine franchise in the days of Marie Antoinette and that the Two Sheilas were about to be executed for the crime of being “les femmes miserable.” When Goodwin, wearing a smile face executioner’s mask, asked if they had any last remarks and would like to proclaim their innocence they screamed, “Yes.” With a smile beneath his smile face mask he said in a cheery voice, “I am so sorry we’re out of time,” and released the blade.

About the time the blade was making contact with their necks, he somehow sensed an external force shaking him rather roughly out of his sleep. He was shocked by what he saw. The Two Sheilas stood on each side of his bed, each of them wearing extremely sexy lingerie, bearing “Victoria’s Secret” in prominent places. Before he could start screaming at or even assault them, Sheila Left pulled him from his bed.

“Oh, my darling Phil, we didn’t intend to ruin your life and we are so sorry. We want to make it up to you, let’s make love and start all over.”

In retrospect, Goodwin believes his response was appropriate. He blurted out, “I can’t. I won’t. I can’t. I won’t. I can’t. I won’t. I can’t. I won’t.” He was beginning to sound like the Little Engine That Could (“I-Think-I-Can-I-Think-I-Can…I know I can”). He shouted, “I wouldn’t touch you with a 10 foot pole.”

The Two Sheilas were laughing hysterically. “Oh, Phil,” they chuckled,” every thing you say is so funny. We don’t know any Poles who are that tall, though we did meet a nice Latvian basketball player.” Goodwin did not appreciate the humor of the situation, particularly because they were being glibber than he was. “I hate your fucking, fucking, fucking guts.”

“That’s a lot of fucking, and by the way, thanks to the famous Sheila brand Spa Diet, our guts are down to a size one,” they said mockingly. “Well, we were here to make up, but it’s obvious you don’t want to mend fences or want sex with us. Okay, we’ll simply start without you.”

“What? You’re going to make love with each other? That’s sick.”

“Get real, Phil. You have played with yourself plenty of times since we have been married. Right, Phil? Be candid, now. Just between us. Mum’s the word.”

“Yes, but...”

“We’re just doing the same thing, playing with ourselves.” Then they burst out laughing, turned to a theretofore hidden cameraman, who stood in front of a director who said, “Okay, that’s a wrap! Boy, just wait until they show this on the Obrah / Vinfrey show.” With that, the Two Sheilas and their entourage left the house.

Goodwin snapped. He later said of that moment, “I was so out of control that my Dybbuk’s Dybbuk took possession of me.” Dressed only in his pajama bottoms, Goodwin grabbed a putter that had been in a trophy case and gave chase, golf club raised over his head in a weapon-like position. The paparazzi and television reporters camped on his lawn now had obtained shots of Goodwin far beyond anything they could have ever imagined. The following day a critical press had a field day. Even
Golf Digest
took umbrage at Goodwin’s club selection and how he held the club, which, in the reviewer’s opinion, would not result in a good stroke.

Goodwin’s earlier recording on the Two Sheilas’ answering machine provoked a headline in the New York Times which read, ‘Deranged Husband Threatens The Sheila.’ Sub-Headline, ‘District Attorney To Investigate If Law Was Broken.’” The paper carried side-by-side photographs, one with Goodwin giving chase, a frenzied look in
his eyes, holding his putter aloft and one of the District Attorney being kissed on each cheek by the Two Sheilas. That evening Goodwin’s PPR had dropped to a five.

The Two Sheilas reappeared on the Obrah / Vinfrey show and played the video of Goodwin they had taken the night before which, among other things, depicted him bleary eyed, admitting to masturbation as an adult. A famous celebrity chef and psychologist (a strict Freudian who would never cook for his mother, who herself was strict but not a Freudian.) was called on the show for a quick segment on the consequences of adult male masturbation and the correlation between it and early hair loss. As soon as he said this all the men in the audience and watching on television put their hands through their hair. For the first twenty minutes of the show, the video of Goodwin giving chase outside his door was played and replayed with background music from Richard Wagner’s “Ride of the Valkyries,” music which some still associate with the Nazis.

“Yes,” one Sheila said, “he had turned in a typical fashion from a devotionally abusive to an actively abusive husband.”

A sympathetic and highly emotional Vinfrey in tears, genuine or otherwise, turned to the Two Sheilas and said, “You know, I believe in marriage, but this guy is a rodent, a rat. You should get rid of him. In my country he would be sent to the Gulag.”

“Yes,” said Obrah, “and probably to the unheated part.” The remark prompted a huge round of support from the audience.

Both Sheilas addressed the television cameras in a somber fashion and spoke in unison, “You know how it is. For years you dream of being free from this hurtful and destructive devotional abuse, but you don’t want to leave because of the children.” When Goodwin heard this he put his mouth by the small speaker on his TV set, with the irrational thought that if he spoke into the speaker someone might hear him, and shouted, “We don’t have any children. You didn’t want them.”