Hi, I’m Sarah.
BOB. ( Shaking hands .) I’m Bob.
CHRIS. I’m outa here. ( HE goes for his coat .)
SARAH. I’ll call you later.
CHRIS. You’re sure you want to go through with this?
SARAH. I’ll call you as soon as the coast is clear.
CHRIS. You’re sure you don’t want me to ...?
SARAH. No.
CHRIS. I love you.
SARAH. I ... know.
CHRIS. I really hate this.
SARAH. ( Leading Chris out the door .) I’m sorry. I’ll talk to you later.
CHRIS. All right. All right. ’Bye.
SARAH. ’Bye.
BOB. Nice meeting you.
( CHRIS exits. SARAH closes the door SHE turns to Bob. )
SARAH. So ... Hi.
BOB. Hi.
SARAH. Can I take your coat?
BOB. Shouldn’t we be going?
SARAH. No. No, we’re having dinner here.
BOB. Oh. I knew it was for dinner. I thought we’d be going someplace.
SARAH. No, it’s here.
BOB. Oh, well ... ( Looking at the apartment .) This is very nice.
SARAH. Thank you. ( SHE takes his coat and takes it into the bedroom )
BOB. What’s the occasion?
SARAH. It’s my father’s birthday.
BOB. Oh, gee. I wish I had known. I would have brought him a present.
SARAH. ( Re-entering. ) I got him one from both of us. Listen, I’m really behind schedule. Would you mind helping me set the table?
BOB. No, not at all.
( THEY set the table throughout the following .)
BOB. Can I ask you a question?
SARAH. Sure. What?
BOB. Well, I was just wondering ... Why did you call an escort service? You and Chris seem pretty, um ...
SARAH. We are. We are. Basically. Only my family doesn’t know about it. They did. At first. But my parents were so unhappy about it ...
BOB. Why? He seems like a nice guy.
SARAH. He is. But he isn’t Jewish.
BOB. Oh. What, are your parents, like, Orthodox?
SARAH. No. They just want “what’s best for their children.” Which, translated, means I should only date somebody Jewish.
BOB. Oh.
SARAH. Which Chris obviously is not. So, we’ve been seeing each other on the sly for the past six months.
BOB. Wow. Forks on the left.
SARAH. What?
BOB. ( He’s correcting her place setting. ) The silverware. Forks go on the left.
SARAH. Oh. Sorry.
BOB. It’s okay. I used to do this for a living. So you and Chris have been doing “We kiss in a shadow.”
SARAH. I know. The whole thing is so stupid. But my parents... Well, you know ... They’re my parents . My dad was sick last year. My mother’s been so tense. I just can’t give them any grief right now. The worst of it was after I told them I’d stopped seeing Chris. They assumed I wasn’t seeing anybody. So my mother kept trying to fix me up with sons of friends and relatives and—I don’t know—strangers she’d meet on the street. I don’t know where she found these guys. But my mother is determined to make me happy. Whether I like it or not. One time, I went to their house for dinner and she had clipped personal ads out of a magazine for me. Can you imagine? Looking down at your dinner plate and seeing brisket on one side and “S.W.M., mid-thirties, Jewish” on the other?
BOB. ( Grimacing .) Ooh.
SARAH. Really, I mean, I know she means well, but ... So, anyway, just so they’d feel better a few months ago, I told them I’d started seeing someone. I just invented a boyfriend.
BOB. Oh. And that’s ... ( HE points to himself .)
SARAH. Right.
BOB. Wow.
SARAH. Well, my mother’s been driving me crazy with “When are we going to meet him?” “When are we going to meet him?” I just couldn’t put it off anymore. ( SHE places two Sabbath candlesticks on the table. ) She’ll probably want to light candles. I thought about asking one of my friends to be my stand-in beau for the evening, but, frankly, I’m too embarrassed by the whole thing for anybody I know to know about it. So I called your agency. ( SHE looks at him .) You must think this is extremely weird.
BOB. Well, I must admit, I expected you to be a little old lady who needed a dinner companion.... But this would have been my second
BOB. ( Shaking hands .) I’m Bob.
CHRIS. I’m outa here. ( HE goes for his coat .)
SARAH. I’ll call you later.
CHRIS. You’re sure you want to go through with this?
SARAH. I’ll call you as soon as the coast is clear.
CHRIS. You’re sure you don’t want me to ...?
SARAH. No.
CHRIS. I love you.
SARAH. I ... know.
CHRIS. I really hate this.
SARAH. ( Leading Chris out the door .) I’m sorry. I’ll talk to you later.
CHRIS. All right. All right. ’Bye.
SARAH. ’Bye.
BOB. Nice meeting you.
( CHRIS exits. SARAH closes the door SHE turns to Bob. )
SARAH. So ... Hi.
BOB. Hi.
SARAH. Can I take your coat?
BOB. Shouldn’t we be going?
SARAH. No. No, we’re having dinner here.
BOB. Oh. I knew it was for dinner. I thought we’d be going someplace.
SARAH. No, it’s here.
BOB. Oh, well ... ( Looking at the apartment .) This is very nice.
SARAH. Thank you. ( SHE takes his coat and takes it into the bedroom )
BOB. What’s the occasion?
SARAH. It’s my father’s birthday.
BOB. Oh, gee. I wish I had known. I would have brought him a present.
SARAH. ( Re-entering. ) I got him one from both of us. Listen, I’m really behind schedule. Would you mind helping me set the table?
BOB. No, not at all.
( THEY set the table throughout the following .)
BOB. Can I ask you a question?
SARAH. Sure. What?
BOB. Well, I was just wondering ... Why did you call an escort service? You and Chris seem pretty, um ...
SARAH. We are. We are. Basically. Only my family doesn’t know about it. They did. At first. But my parents were so unhappy about it ...
BOB. Why? He seems like a nice guy.
SARAH. He is. But he isn’t Jewish.
BOB. Oh. What, are your parents, like, Orthodox?
SARAH. No. They just want “what’s best for their children.” Which, translated, means I should only date somebody Jewish.
BOB. Oh.
SARAH. Which Chris obviously is not. So, we’ve been seeing each other on the sly for the past six months.
BOB. Wow. Forks on the left.
SARAH. What?
BOB. ( He’s correcting her place setting. ) The silverware. Forks go on the left.
SARAH. Oh. Sorry.
BOB. It’s okay. I used to do this for a living. So you and Chris have been doing “We kiss in a shadow.”
SARAH. I know. The whole thing is so stupid. But my parents... Well, you know ... They’re my parents . My dad was sick last year. My mother’s been so tense. I just can’t give them any grief right now. The worst of it was after I told them I’d stopped seeing Chris. They assumed I wasn’t seeing anybody. So my mother kept trying to fix me up with sons of friends and relatives and—I don’t know—strangers she’d meet on the street. I don’t know where she found these guys. But my mother is determined to make me happy. Whether I like it or not. One time, I went to their house for dinner and she had clipped personal ads out of a magazine for me. Can you imagine? Looking down at your dinner plate and seeing brisket on one side and “S.W.M., mid-thirties, Jewish” on the other?
BOB. ( Grimacing .) Ooh.
SARAH. Really, I mean, I know she means well, but ... So, anyway, just so they’d feel better a few months ago, I told them I’d started seeing someone. I just invented a boyfriend.
BOB. Oh. And that’s ... ( HE points to himself .)
SARAH. Right.
BOB. Wow.
SARAH. Well, my mother’s been driving me crazy with “When are we going to meet him?” “When are we going to meet him?” I just couldn’t put it off anymore. ( SHE places two Sabbath candlesticks on the table. ) She’ll probably want to light candles. I thought about asking one of my friends to be my stand-in beau for the evening, but, frankly, I’m too embarrassed by the whole thing for anybody I know to know about it. So I called your agency. ( SHE looks at him .) You must think this is extremely weird.
BOB. Well, I must admit, I expected you to be a little old lady who needed a dinner companion.... But this would have been my second
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