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“Dear Janice,
This is disgusting. I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m like this.”
“Come again?”
Rizzo has this annoying habit of just materialising at Yolanda’s side with some fresh bullshit every morning. It’s exasperating in the extreme. It also means, however, that she won’t have to do any actual work for the duration of his stay, so she always lets him hang around. Even when ninety percent of the time, he’s talking abject nonsense.
This morning, he has a note in his hands, and its larger-than-his-body size would indicate he wasn’t the one who wrote it.
“Found it on top of Janice’s bag.”
“So you stole her mail and opened it? Real nice, Rizzo. Real classy.”
“She ain’t seen it yet.” Rizzo scoffs, as though this in any way excuses his actions, and he has the downright audacity to take a sip of Yolanda’s coffee. She snatches it right back out of his hand. “I’ll give it back while she’s busy smokin’ weed or makin’ friends with the asphalt. She won’t know.”
“Rizzo, she catches you, she’s gonna have a hell of a lotta questions about why you’re disgustin’—why you’re tellin’ her in a letter, anyway.”
"Janice is allergic to lies or somethin’ stupid like that. She’d know it wasn’t from me if I told her. Anyway! Hello! You are ignorin’ the whole point of me readin’ you this! Who’s sendin’ her crazy stalker notes?”
Hm. A fair point, Yolanda concedes, not that she’d ever say it out loud. She allows Rizzo to take another sip of her coffee as a sign he may continue, as always with the knowledge he’s on thin ice.
“It’s Sam, by the way. Ain’t a big mystery.”
“Aw. Spoil the magic.”
Rizzo rolls his eyes.
“I don’t know anybody else in this theatre who wants to get up Janice and feels bad about it. Also, who else is gonna write a letter? He’s so old.”
Yolanda has been aware of this rather unpleasant development more or less since its beginning a year and a half ago or so. It entertains Rizzo more than her, him being the nosier party, but he always delights in coming to Yolanda to gather any information he might have missed.
Yolanda is a secretary, after all. She knows pretty much everything that goes on in here. And the stuff that goes on with Sam is weird.
“He was lookin’ pretty cagey when he came in today.” Yolanda observes. She takes a sip from her coffee mug as well. Hell, it’s her coffee. “Real bad way to get a girl into you. Tellin’ her you’re a pervert and everythin’.”
Were it anyone else in the theatre, Yolanda might feel bad. It’s Sam, though, so she doesn’t enormously care about his blighted affection. He’s a dickhead.
“She won’t think that, though. She’s gonna go oh, wow, like, a tortured soul. She ain’t all the way there, Yolanda.”
Yolanda scoffs at this, but it is true. Janice never seems fully present on this plain of existence. If she isn’t totally smoked out she’s pretty ditzy. Still, sisters before misters and everything. She has to put up at least a pretence of thinking Rizzo’s a pig for saying it.
“So you’re gonna give her the letter back an’ let her not know who it’s from?”
“Sure.” Rizzo shrugs. “Not my business.”
Rizzo has never in his life said the words not my business, so Yolanda knows he’s talking total shit. What he really means is I want to see what happens and I don’t have any responsibility to stop Sam from looking like a total freak. Which is true. And Yolanda, also, would like to see how this plays out.
“I’m pretty sure she’s gettin’ her menopause tea down the street right now. Go give it to her, champ.”
Rizzo scurries off to do just this, laughing the whole time. Yolanda frowns, then shrugs, and goes back to filing her nails. She can’t put off hard work forever.