Atlantic City

Okay...

So...

What are you wearing?

Uh huh

Didn't you say you say
That you have a roommate?

What's his name?

Oswald?

Okay, well that's fantastic

I was worried
That they were going to room you
With some hot Vegas show boy
Who would seduce you
And convince you
To cheat on me
Your long-distance boyfriend

But now that I know his name is OSWALD
I feel infinitely more assured

Nevertheless, I'm not sure you should be laying in bed naked
Trying to talk me into phone sex
With OSWALD in the next bed

...Really?...

Well, where is he?

With who?

You're telling me Oswald is hooking up with a hot Vegas show boy
Named Shane?

So Oswald is having sex right now
And I'm not?

That doesn't seem right
That just doesn't seem right at all

Well, good for him

I'm glad someone's having sex

. . . . .

I'm lying

I'm not glad anyone's having sex

If it were up to me
At this moment
All over the world
No one would be having sex

Six months from today
Not a single baby would be born

The entire planet would be filled
With half-empty beds
Like the one I'm in

If it were up to me
You and Oswald would be lying in separate beds
Telling each other stories
About the boys you have back home
And what you're going to do
Once you're released from the war zone
That is Atlantic City during the off-season
And the non-equity tour of '42nd Street' that you're slaving away in
And you get to go back home to New York
Where you can actually have sex with the aforementioned boyfriend
Instead of describing sexual things to him
Like you're in prison

Given the option
That is what I would prefer

Because I'm a selfish person
Because I'm petty
Because I miss you

. . . . .

And I lied

I'm not naked
I'm wearing pajamas

It's cold
It's cold here
And if you want me to feel sexy
Then trust me
You don't want me naked right now

Well, I can still touch myself

Flannel pajamas can be very sensual, you know

. . . . .

You haven't, right?

You know...

With anyone else?

In Atlantic City?

I mean, I know there's not much to do there

You can't go to the beach
You hate gambling
You don't drink

I'm just worried that you're going to run out of crossword puzzles
And start shacking up with some hotel bartender

Or Shane, once Oswald is done with him

. . . . .

Have I?

No

NO!

Of course not!

You know, this is turning into the worst phone sex ever

. . . . .

It doesn't matter

It's not like it would be enough

Just forget it

In two months, you'll be back
And we'll be together
And we'll have sex seventeen times in a row
And...

And...

Haha...

Yeah...

I can't...

I can't do this

. . . . .

Not you

I mean, I can do you

I'm not saying I want--

I just can't do THIS

This--fake intimacy

This poetic, romantic
Over-the-phone
'It's like you're here with me' bullshit

It's not the sex
Or maybe it is
I don't know

I know I can go the two months without sex
I've gone the past four months, haven't I?

But I need you here
Now

And it really bugs me
That you're not here
And that you can't be

And I really really didn't want to be
The guy at the New Year's Eve party
On the phone with his boyfriend
Saying 'I love you'
And watching all the other couples kiss

And that's us now, isn't it?

We're the couple on the phone...

And the fact is
That you are living a life
That I am not a part of

And I'm doing the same damn thing

And I can't convey my life to you
Over the phone
Even if I gave you every minute detail of it

It wouldn't work
It's just--

It's not working

. . . . .

Are you crying?

It sounds like you're crying

Are you doing that thing
Where you rub the spot on your nose
Between your eyes
And move your head back and forth?

Mmm...I knew it

Hmm?

My hand's on my chest

Where yours usually is

I've got a pillow on your side of the bed
And I've kept it there every night
And it's...creepy

I feel creepy doing it
And sad

I'm imagining you snoring
That loud, insane snoring
That sounds like a wind turbine

I'm imagining you pulling me next to you
Sucking all the warmth out of my body
Because you're natural body temperature
Is two degrees above penguin's blood

I'm imagining you tickling me
Then promising to stop
Then tickling me more
Then kissing the top of my ear
Then kissing my fingertips
Then kissing me...

I'm imagining us falling asleep

I know it's not sexy
But it's what I imagine
Every night

Every night you've been gone

. . . . .

Okay

Your turn to talk

Hahaha

First of all, I don't believe that you're covered in whipped cream
Second of all, I'm about ready to pass out
So just do me a favor, all right?

Talk to me until I fall asleep

Tell me anything you want

Make me feel like
You're here