JEFF
Excuse me?
KIMBERLY
Hello.
(Kimberly passes. Jeff catches up to her.)
JEFF
Uh, I said, excuse me. Are you following me?
KIMBERLY
I think you’re following me.
(Kimberly walks away)
JEFF
No. Wait! Excuse me! You were just following me. I saw you.
KIMBERLY
I’m in front of you, how could I be following you?
JEFF
What is this, the Literal Olympics? You’ve been behind me the last ten blocks, I saw you. I turned around on 31st Street, and you ducked behind a planter.
KIMBERLY
I dropped my comb.
(Kimberly takes out a comb, combs her hair)
JEFF
On 35th, I turned around and you hid behind a mailbox.
KIMBERLY
I was mailing a letter. To my mother. Who told me never to talk to strangers.
JEFF
What did she say about following them?
KIMBERLY
Nothing.
JEFF
This isn’t the first time I’ve seen you either. I saw you last week. And the week before. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were stalking me.
KIMBERLY
Why would I stalk you? Are you famous?
JEFF
Well. No.
KIMBERLY
Who are you?
JEFF
I’m a playwright. Jeff Samuels.
KIMBERLY
Never heard of you. Sorry.
(Kimberly turns to walk away, Jeff sees something in her bag.)
JEFF
Hey. Wait a second. What’s that?
KIMBERLY
(knows she’s caught) What?
JEFF
That. In your bag.
(before she can resist, Jeff grabs a book out of her bag)
KIMBERLY
Hey!
(Jeff holds up a copy of one of his plays aloft in victory.)
JEFF
Ah-ha! Never heard of me, huh?
(Kimberly takes out a camera, takes his picture)
JEFF
(reacting to the flash in his eyes) Ow.
KIMBERLY
You know, having a stalker has its upside. Companionship. And attention. Don’t you like attention?
JEFF
So you are stalking me.
KIMBERLY
Let’s just say… What if I were… pursuing you? In a very persistent manner. What if I
were persistently pursuing you? Would that be so bad? Am I so hideous that even the thought of seeing me now and again when I’m a little off my game, is that so awful? Hath not a stalker eyes? If you prick us, do we not bleed? Stalkers have bad days too, you know.
JEFF
Persistent pursuers.
KIMBERLY
Right. I didn’t have to pick you. Robert Altman lives right down the block from me. He’s in the movie business, I could have picked him. I’m sure he’d love to have a stalker.
JEFF
I- You know what? Knock yourself out. Stalk me. Stalk away.
KIMBERLY
I’m not stalking you! Haven’t you been listening?
JEFF
OK. OK. Calm down. Maybe I confused you with someone else.
KIMBERLY
Oh, so now I’m so ordinary I’m easily interchangeable?
JEFF
What’s your name?
KIMBERLY
Kimberly. I love your work. Your plays really speak to me. Your last play- Oh… That awful Times critic, I could kill him! Really, I could! After what he wrote about you… To call you a commercial sell-out AND a pretentious bore- If I ever get my hands on him…
JEFF
I’m sure he’d be very much the worse for wear.
KIMBERLY
You can say that again. (holding up a key) This is the key to his apartment.
JEFF
You’re kidding, right?
KIMBERLY
I’ll be better, I promise. You won’t see hide nor hair of me. Oh, duh. I used nor without preceding it by neither, in front of you! Bad, Kimberly, bad, bad! (slaps her own wrists)
JEFF
I promise not to look back, how about that?
(Jeff slowly exits as she babbles on)
KIMBERLY
Excuse me?
KIMBERLY
Hello.
(Kimberly passes. Jeff catches up to her.)
JEFF
Uh, I said, excuse me. Are you following me?
KIMBERLY
I think you’re following me.
(Kimberly walks away)
JEFF
No. Wait! Excuse me! You were just following me. I saw you.
KIMBERLY
I’m in front of you, how could I be following you?
JEFF
What is this, the Literal Olympics? You’ve been behind me the last ten blocks, I saw you. I turned around on 31st Street, and you ducked behind a planter.
KIMBERLY
I dropped my comb.
(Kimberly takes out a comb, combs her hair)
JEFF
On 35th, I turned around and you hid behind a mailbox.
KIMBERLY
I was mailing a letter. To my mother. Who told me never to talk to strangers.
JEFF
What did she say about following them?
KIMBERLY
Nothing.
JEFF
This isn’t the first time I’ve seen you either. I saw you last week. And the week before. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were stalking me.
KIMBERLY
Why would I stalk you? Are you famous?
JEFF
Well. No.
KIMBERLY
Who are you?
JEFF
I’m a playwright. Jeff Samuels.
KIMBERLY
Never heard of you. Sorry.
(Kimberly turns to walk away, Jeff sees something in her bag.)
JEFF
Hey. Wait a second. What’s that?
KIMBERLY
(knows she’s caught) What?
JEFF
That. In your bag.
(before she can resist, Jeff grabs a book out of her bag)
KIMBERLY
Hey!
(Jeff holds up a copy of one of his plays aloft in victory.)
JEFF
Ah-ha! Never heard of me, huh?
(Kimberly takes out a camera, takes his picture)
JEFF
(reacting to the flash in his eyes) Ow.
KIMBERLY
You know, having a stalker has its upside. Companionship. And attention. Don’t you like attention?
JEFF
So you are stalking me.
KIMBERLY
Let’s just say… What if I were… pursuing you? In a very persistent manner. What if I
were persistently pursuing you? Would that be so bad? Am I so hideous that even the thought of seeing me now and again when I’m a little off my game, is that so awful? Hath not a stalker eyes? If you prick us, do we not bleed? Stalkers have bad days too, you know.
JEFF
Persistent pursuers.
KIMBERLY
Right. I didn’t have to pick you. Robert Altman lives right down the block from me. He’s in the movie business, I could have picked him. I’m sure he’d love to have a stalker.
JEFF
I- You know what? Knock yourself out. Stalk me. Stalk away.
KIMBERLY
I’m not stalking you! Haven’t you been listening?
JEFF
OK. OK. Calm down. Maybe I confused you with someone else.
KIMBERLY
Oh, so now I’m so ordinary I’m easily interchangeable?
JEFF
What’s your name?
KIMBERLY
Kimberly. I love your work. Your plays really speak to me. Your last play- Oh… That awful Times critic, I could kill him! Really, I could! After what he wrote about you… To call you a commercial sell-out AND a pretentious bore- If I ever get my hands on him…
JEFF
I’m sure he’d be very much the worse for wear.
KIMBERLY
You can say that again. (holding up a key) This is the key to his apartment.
JEFF
You’re kidding, right?
KIMBERLY
I’ll be better, I promise. You won’t see hide nor hair of me. Oh, duh. I used nor without preceding it by neither, in front of you! Bad, Kimberly, bad, bad! (slaps her own wrists)
JEFF
I promise not to look back, how about that?
(Jeff slowly exits as she babbles on)
KIMBERLY
OK! Thanks! Good idea! Until I’m full force again. I’m only about half-Kimberly right now. Diet is important, I sometimes forget. But I’ll be full force again soon!
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