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Jenny's House of Joy
Jenny's House of Joy
Jenny's House of Joy
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Jenny's House of Joy

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Jenny runs the best little house of ill-repute in her corner of the old Wild West. When a tireless young runaway comes begging for a job, the girls at Jenny's house might just have to leave their lingerie behind. A delightful new comedy about the oldest profession.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateMar 1, 2007
ISBN9781770914070
Jenny's House of Joy
Author

Norm Foster

Norm Foster has been the most produced playwright in Canada every year for the past twenty years. His plays receive an average of one hundred and fifty productions annually. Norm has over sixty plays to his credit, including The Foursome, On a First Name Basis, and Hilda’s Yard. He is the recipient of the Los Angeles Drama-Logue Award for his play The Melville Boys and is an Officer of the Order of Canada. He lives in Fredericton.

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    Book preview

    Jenny's House of Joy - Norm Foster

    ACT ONE

    Scene 1

    Time: 1871

    Place: Jenny’s House Of Joy, a whorehouse in the cattle town of Baxter Springs, Kansas.

    The setting is a parlor in the house. There are a couple of couches, chairs, a table, a window, a bookkeeping desk and a small bar. S.R. is an opening which leads to the front door of the house and to the stairs which lead to the second floor. There is an exit S.L. which leads to the kitchen.

    Lights come up to reveal two women, ANITA and FRANCES. ANITA is reading a book. FRANCES looks out the window.

    FRANCES: Cowboys. That’s all you can see for miles in this godforsaken town. Stupid, dusty, sweaty, ill-mannered, sex-starved, drunken, tabbacca-chawin’, bow-legged, unshaven, greasy-haired, smellin’ of horseshit cowboys.

    ANITA: Frances, have you got the monthlies?

    FRANCES: No, Anita, I don’t have the monthlies. I’m just sick to death of cowboy stink.

    ANITA: Well, you should do what I do.

    FRANCES: What’s that?

    ANITA: When I get them up to my room, I spray them with perfume when they’re not looking.

    FRANCES: You what?

    ANITA: I spray them with perfume.

    FRANCES: Wouldn’t that be like doin’ it with a deep-voiced, fat-bellied woman?

    ANITA: Yeah, but at least she smells good.

    FRANCES: Well, I just hope it’s a slow day today. Ya’ ever have those days where ya’ just don’t feel like givin’ it?

    ANITA: Sure I do.

    FRANCES: Well, I’m havin’ one of those days. I just don’t wanna be touched ya’ know?

    ANITA: Well, think of something else then.

    FRANCES: Hmm?

    ANITA: When you’re lying there, just think of something else.

    FRANCES: Is that what you do?

    ANITA: Sometimes. Or sometimes I read.

    FRANCES: You read?

    ANITA: Yeah.

    FRANCES: While the man’s up there doin’ his business, you read?

    ANITA: Well, it depends on the man of course. Some men don’t care what you’re doing so long as they’re getting what they paid for. Or you get some who do the whole thing with their eyes closed and they don’t know what’s going on underneath them anyway.

    FRANCES: Yeah, I’ve had a few of those. I had a man last week who prayed through the whole thing.

    ANITA: He prayed?

    FRANCES: It was like he was sinnin’ and bein’ saved all at once. He was callin’ on the father, the son, the holy ghost, the virgin Mary. I didn’t know whether to drop my drawers or bow my head.

    ANITA: Well, if you want to take your mind off of it, you should try reading.

    FRANCES: What book are you readin’ now?

    ANITA: It’s called Dead Souls . It was written by some Russian fella.

    FRANCES: Dead Souls , huh? Did you get it from Roland Keets?

    ANITA: Uh-huh.

    FRANCES: Figured. Does Roland’s wife know that he comes around to see you?

    ANITA: I don’t know whether she does or not. Besides he doesn’t come around to lie with me. He just brings me books. He says he wants to give me his tutelage.

    FRANCES: Well, I’ve heard it called a lot of things but never a tutelage.

    ANITA: I’m serious, Frances. Roland says I show promise intellectually and he wants to give me his guidance. He says books can teach me about the world outside of Baxter Springs.

    FRANCES: Anita honey, there ain’t no world outside of Baxter Springs. Not for women like us anyway. Jenny’s House Of Joy is the only world we’re ever gonna know.

    ANITA: Not for me it isn’t. No, I’m savin’ my money so I can travel. So I can move myself up in society.

    FRANCES: Society? You’re a whore. Society ain’t gonna let you move nowhere but onto the next whorehouse.

    ANITA: No, that’s not true. I’m not gonna be doin’ this forever you know. I’m gonna raise myself up. I’m gonna be like respectable folks and go to fancy parties and meet well turned-out men and drink tea with refined women.

    FRANCES: Good God, Anita, do you think that refined women are gonna wanna sit down across a fancy tablecloth and drink their orange pekoe tea with the likes of you? Why they’d spot you as whore as soon as you opened your mouth.

    ANITA: No, they won’t. Roland’s teaching me all about that too.

    FRANCES: About what?

    ANITA: About talkin’ proper… ly.

    FRANCES: And how’s he doin’ that?

    ANITA: It’s simple really. It’s just a matter of not dropping your g’s.

    FRANCES: Not droppin’ what?

    ANITA: Your g’s. Instead of saying doin’ like you do, I say doing . Or instead of saying readin’ , I say reading .

    FRANCES: I see. Well, instead of sayin’, ‘That’s very enlightenin’ , I say bullshit.

    ANITA: It’s true, Frances.

    FRANCES: Anita, you can dream all you want but there ain’t no way you’re ever gonna pose as respectable.

    ANITA: I will too.

    FRANCES: No. You can read every book there is and let Roland Keets give you his tutelage until it’s worn to a nub but it ain’t gonna change nothin’.

    ANITA: I’m just tryin’ to improve myself. I don’t see what’s wrong with that.

    FRANCES: You’re gonna wind up makin’ a fool of yourself, that’s what’s wrong.

    ANITA: Maybe I won’t. Maybe I’ll surprise you. Why I might be sitting in some exclusive Philadelphia restaurant one day sipping a cup of tea with my sophisticated lady friends and you’ll walk by and look in the window and see me sitting there. Sitting right there as big as you please. And then what’ll you say?

    FRANCES: I’ll say, Look, there’s a whore drinkin’ tea.

    ANITA: Bitch.

    FRANCES: That’s right, darlin’, and I ain’t tryin’ to pass myself off as anything

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