Why I Need an Assistant

--  Taylor's Office  --

Taylor, thirty-something female writer
Scott, twenty-something unemployed male

Taylor:  ...Which is why it's really crucial I get an assistant before the new year.

Scott:  So, I'm sorry, but--I'm sort of--I haven't been around in awhile.  I just did this graduate work overseas in Korea so--

Taylor:  Which one?

Scott:  I'm sorry?

Taylor:  Which Korea?

Scott:  Oh--South Korea.  Obviously not North Korea.  I don't think they even let people into North Korea.

Taylor:  Is there anything to write about in South Korea?

Scott:  Well, yes, things do happen in South Korea.

Taylor:  See, this is why I need an assistant.  I'm totally out-of-the-loop.  I had no idea South Korea was worth visiting.

Scott:  Well, it is if you happen to be studying South Korean infrastructures--

Taylor:  I don't even know what an infrastructure is!  My God, it's like you were sent here just for me!

Scott:  Sent here to--

Taylor:  Be my assistant!  My primary assistant anyway.  I'm sure I'm going to need another one for the three hours a day you're not able to be around.

Scott:  I'm sorry--You're looking to hire someone twenty-one hours a day?

Taylor:  Well, I'd prefer twenty-two, but I know people have to eat.

Scott:  What I was getting around to asking you was--What exactly have you done?

Taylor:  Done?

Scott:  To, you know, merit getting an assistant.  Like I said, I haven't been around and--

Taylor:  Oh!  Of course!  How refreshing!  That you don't know, I mean.  Haha I wrote a book.

Scott:  ...Okay.

Taylor:  It won an award.

Scott:  ...Okay.

Taylor:  And now I need an assistant.

(A beat.)

Scott:  Have you...written any other books?

Taylor:  No--well, not yet.  I'm thinking about Napoleon.

Scott:  You're going to write a book about Napoleon?

Taylor:  No, but I'm thinking about him.  My next book will probably be about my mother dying of a terminal disease.  But she doesn't have a terminal disease yet, so I'm just sort of waiting on that.  I keep telling her to stop eating potatoes.

Scott:  I don't--

Taylor:  Cancer--preventative--something.  The point is, I need help.  I can barely form sentences anymore.  Pretty soon I'm going to have to start writing poetry!

Scott:  What exactly would your assistant do?  Answer phones?

Taylor:  Well, yes, but--there's just one phone.  My phone.  You'd be answering my phone.

Scott:  Like your personal phone?  Like a cell phone?

Taylor:  Exactly.  I've written a book and it's won an award.  It's very important that I'm never heard speaking on a phone again.

Scott:  Wouldn't it be easier to just put a phone at my desk?

Taylor:  Oh, you're not going to have a desk!  Haha I mean where would I put it?  I only have a one-bedroom apartment.

Scott:  You mean this isn't your office?

Taylor:  Nooo this is the law office of the guy who broke up with me yesterday.  I stole his keys in a moment of passion.  Us crazy artists haha we probably shouldn't stay here too long.

Scott:  You stole keys to a law office?  That's crazy!

Taylor:  See!  This is why it's vital that I hire you!  I need someone to save me from myself.

Scott:  Then get a therapist or a life coach or a friend!

Taylor:  I have all of those!  Well, not the last one--not friends--at least, none whose husbands I haven't slept with.

Scott:  Oh God.

Taylor:  But my therapist won't make me coffee and my life coach won't make reservations for me at Le Dunne and my sister won't take credit for slashing my ex-boyfriend's tires--

Scott:  The lawer?

Taylor:  No, another one.

Scott:  Ah.

Taylor:  And none of my friends will write my next book for me.

Scott:  Uh, I don't think you're going to be able to find an assistant willing to write an entire book for me, let alone give you credit for whatever they come up with.

Taylor:  What if it was just a short story?  Just something I can send to the New Yorker to tide everybody over until my mother comes down with malaria.

Scott:  Look, I don't feel entirely comfortable saying this to you because I'm pretty sure you're unstable and might kill me, but...I don't think you need an assistant.

Taylor:  Maybe I wasn't clear before--I wrote a book.

Scott:  I understand that.

Taylor:  It was a big book too.  It was well over eighty pages.

Scott:  How many pages was it?

Taylor:  Eighty-seven.

Scott:  That's not really 'well over' eighty, and it's also not a book.  It's a novella.

Taylor:  Wait, there's a difference between a novel and a novella?

Scott:  Yes, that's why they use different words to--

Taylor:  THIS IS WHY I NEED YOU!

Scott:  What award did they give you?

Taylor:  Oh, I don't like to go around bragging, but I will say it was given to me at a private function where roast duck was served and John Updike was one of the presenters.

Scott:  John Updike's dead.

Taylor:  Then maybe it was Norman Mailer.

Scott:  He's dead too.

Taylor: John Irving?

Scott:  He's still alive.

Taylor:  Then let's go with him.

Scott:  Look, even writing a book and winning an award for it doesn't necessitate an assistant.

Taylor:  But if you work with me I'll help you write your book about South Korea!  The intrigue, the romance, the orphans!

Scott:  What orphans?

Taylor:  Scott, this could be your chance.  You could be the next me!

Scott:  But you're nobody!

Taylor:  But one day I'll be somebody and when I am, I will graciously step to the side and allow you to be almost as good as me.

Scott:  I'm leaving.

Taylor:  That's a good idea.  Elliot's maid must have found him tied to the bed by now.

Scott:  What?

Taylor:  You don't happen to own a car, do you?  I hate taking the subway at this time of day.

Scott:  Just out of curiosity, what was your book about?

Taylor:  It was sort of an autobiography about my childhood.  How I became who I am today.

Scott:  Well, believe it or not, that's actually something I'd be interested in reading.

The End