Spike Heels
By Theresa RebeckLydia is from a wealthy family. Her fiancee, Andrew, has just postponed their wedding. Lydia is convinced that Andrew's young, beautiful, "low-class" neighbor, Georgie is somehow responsible. She storms into Georgie's apartment and demands that she leave Andrew alone and move out of the building.
LYDIA
I don't know you. You and I have never met. And you are wreaking havoc on my life. At first, I admired Andrew's interest in your welfare. He cares about people; he truly cares and I think that's wonderful. But these past few months, I must admit, I have become less interested in his interest. Not only do I listen to him talk about you incessantly, any time I come over to have dinner or spend the night here, I am bombarded with you. When you come home at night, we hear your little heels clicking on the ceiling. When you leave in the morning, we hear your little heels. When you go to bed we hear you brush your teeth, and talk on the phone and listen to the radio and on certain evenings I could swear that we can even hear you undress. I am not enjoying this. For the past two months, I have been under the distinct impression that any time I spend the night here, I am actually sleeping with two people - Andrew and yourself.
Now, I don't know what went on between you and Andrew. But I want you out of my life! Is that understood? I'll find you a better apartment! It won't be difficult. I just want it to stop!
(Calmer.) Andrew postponed our wedding tonight, and I'm a little - my life is in a bit of a shambles, tonight, and I know that's no excuse, but I'm just not myself. I'm not crying! It's just, I can't talk to my family about this; they'll simply gloat. They never liked Andrew. He wasn't "good" enough. Is that unbelievable? He's the best man I've ever met, and he's not good enough for them. He doesn't make enough money. And they certainly don't like his politics. You know what my father told me, when Andrew and I decided to get married: Never trust a man who thinks he can change the world. That's what he said! Can you imagine? I don't care. I mean, he voted for Reagan; I'm still mad at him about that, but - how can I tell them this? I always told them, they didn't understand, they just didn't understand. Andrew saved me. He is my best self; he makes me my best self. How can I tell them they were right?
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