(BOLO makes a rueful face, shrugs, and walks over to the couch. LYZA leaps lightly from the poor to the desk, seated, her legs dangling over the side, clasps her hands in front of her, takes a deep breath. She plows through her bag, pulls out a small tape recorder, plugs in a cassette. A musical intro flows out. Then she launches into a sweet version of "You Made Me Lose You," switching to a bawdier tone nearer the climax.)

BOLO: All right! (Claps, not faking it) Girl, you can sing.

(LYZA luxuriates in the applause…the applause she lives for. Bows, does a little curtsy as though she were wearing a full dress, then pulls a natural segue into a dance number, using most of the office as a stage. Ends up back on the desk, blows BOLO a kiss.)

BOLO: (Claps again) Okay, okay. Anybody asks me, you got what it takes. (Getting up from the couch and returning to the desk chair) But listen to me a minute, okay? There's only one way you can do this job, see? You got to tell yourself, you're like an…outlet, you know what I mean? Some of these guys who call, they sound like real freaks, real sickos. But it's all in their head. I mean, let's face it, they're getting off on it–that's why they call, spend their money. But it's not real, understand? Some of them, they want…things…if it scares you, it's okay. Just give me the signal…You can see me from where you work, see that window right through there (Indicating)...and I'll call it off. It's really funny, you look at it the right way. You see the chart? See the name Kitty? Under S-R. That's short for Sexy Romance. Soft stuff. She talks so sweet it sounds like honey on ice cream…got a whole Hock of regulars love to hear her talk dirty to them. Well, her real name's Bertha, and she weighs about three hundred goddamned pounds. Sits there on her fat ass in her house over in Hegwisch, plopped on her sofa, stuffing bonbons into her piggy face. These guys who call, if they could ever see her, they'd have a fit. It's all a game….I know you're an actress and all, but you gotta remember…it's not for real.

LYZA: I understand.

BOLO: Maybe you do, maybe you don't. We'll give it a spin, okay? You want the hourly rate, or take a shot on commission?

LYZA: How would I make more?

BOLO: Look…what's your name, anyway?

LYZA: Lyza. Lyza with a y, not an i. L-Y-Z-A.

BOLO: That's a pretty name.

LYZA: It's a stage name. I picked it myself. When I was just a little girl. Lyza Langtree. I always knew what I wanted to be. It has a nice ring, doesn't it?

BOLO: Yeah. Lyza. Well, as far as how you'd make more, it's all the luck of the draw, you know? The way it works, if there's a girl working inside, here with me, I try and throw all the business I can her way…unless they ask for one of the regulars. And even if they do, sometimes I tell them that girl's not working tonight, you know? It gets pretty busy sometimes, but, this is a Tuesday and all. Probably our slowest night. Friday's the best. And it's early yet…they really don't get rolling until just before midnight. It's up to you.

LYZA: Well…I think I'll try the commission thing. What do I do, just wait around for the phone to ring?

BOLO: That's about it.

LYZA: Well, that's sure as hell like the acting business too!

BOLO: I'll bet. Me, I never worry. There's always something. I just let it happen. Come on, I'll show you where you work.

(BOLO leads LYZA into the second room set up next to the first, equally open to the audience. There's a leather psychiatrist's couch, a straight chair, a recliner, some pillows thrown around, and a single Princess phone, white, with an extra-long cord. BOLO demonstrates how you can walk around the entire room still talking into the instrument.)

BOLO: Bathroom's in the back. I keep a few snacks in the refrigerator. You need to take a break, just let me know.

LYZA: What are theses (Holding up a sheaf of magazines)

BOLO: (Mildly embarrassed) Porno stuff. They got pictures and like…letters and stuff. Some of the girls, they read them while they're on the phone…so they know what to say. But we got it better organized than that…see? (Pointing to a red plastic milk crate full of file folders, He takes one folder out…just a plain manila folder, like you'd find in a law office.) This is the B&D folder, okay?

LYZA: B&D?

BOLO: Uh, Bondage and Discipline. You know, handcuffs, whips, like that. See, there's a script in each folder, okay? I find out what the guy wants or, like I said, he tells you. Then you pull out the folder and you got sort of…guidelines…you know?

LYZA: (Thumbing through the pages) "Ohh, baby, that hurts–!"

(Laughs) How's that for delivery?

BOLO: (Chuckles) Okay. You convinced me.

LYZA: Then I'm hired?

BOLO: Sure. We get a call, then it's rock 'n' roll. You want a cup of coffee or something?

LYZA: A glass of water?

BOLO: You got it. (Goes to the water cooler, LYZA trailing behind him. He pushes the tap, hands her a paper cup. LYZA sips it like it was champagne, legs crossed. BOLO picks up a grip exerciser, squeezes it rhythmically, a magazine on his lap, watching her. The phone rings.)

BOLO: (Going over to the desk, picking up the phone. LYZA is still perched on the desk, doesn't move.) AYW Enterprises, how can I help you? (Pause) Yes, Kitty is working this evening, sir. May I have your credit card information for verification please? (Pause) Thank you, sir–I'll be back on line with you in just a moment. (Hits some keys on the computer, watches the screen, nods. Picks up another phone.)…Bertha? It's Bolo. I got this Jacobs character on the main line. Okay to send him over? Right. (Pushes a button on the phone. A light starts blinking. Picks up the first phone.) All right, sir, I'm connecting you right now–have a good evening. (Pushes one of the buttons on the main phone, watches the lights, nods to himself. BOLO gets up, makes a notation on the wall chart, rubs his hands together in an "all done" gesture.)

LYZA: That's it?

BOLO: Sure. When it's a regular, all we do is hook them up. The timer runs internally, sucking money off his credit card. When the light stops blinking, it means Bertha's done with him.

LYZA: You don't pay her in cash every night, do you?

BOLO: No way–it'd be impossible. See, all the girls, they start out here first. Like a trial period. If it works out, they work right outta their houses. They come in once a week, see the boss, and get their money.

LYZA: Still in cash?

BOLO: No, we give them a check, just like in a regular business. For the tax man, you know? Of course, if they earned, say, five hundred, we'd give them a check for two, pay them the rest under the table.

LYZA: Oh.

BOLO: Hey, come on, everybody does it. We ain't no more illegitimate than your everyday business, right? Your father, the doctor, you think he reports every dime he gets to the authorities?

LYZA: He does! You don't know him.

BOLO: Well that's just fine, Miss Priss–but it ain't the way it works down this end of town. Everybody plays the game. You think these guys who call, they want some sex service on their credit card bill? That's why the boss calls it AYW Enterprises…can't tell what that is, right?

LYZA: What does it stand for? Anything?

BOLO: (Smiles) Yeah, it stands for Anything You Want. That's our specialty here: anything you want…only it's all in their heads.

LYZA: How come…? (The phone rings.)