Taping My Friends
by Steve Martin
JEROME
(friend, twenty-two years)
ME: ... Does your wife know?
JEROME: I hope she doesn't find out.
ME: Find out what?
JEROME: What I told you yesterday.
ME: Right. I remember what you told me yesterday, but the way you said it was so poignant. Would you say it?
JEROME: I just don't want her to find out about my having a drink with that waitress. I was so dumb.
ME: So you definitely had a drink with the waitress.
[inaudible]
ME: Sorry?
JEROME: I had a drink with the waitress.
ME: Whose name was?
JEROME: Dinah. Are you having memory problems?
ME: Yes. Could you recap?
JEROME: I had a drink with the waitress, Dinah.
ME: Let's keep this between us.
JEROME: Thanks, man.
VIRGINIA
(ex-girlfriend)
VIRGINIA: I'm feeling so guilty about what we did.
ME: Can you hang on a minute?
[sound of beep from tape recorder being turned on]
VIRGINIA: What was that?
ME: What?
VIRGINIA: That beep.
ME: Federal Express truck backing up. You feel guilty about what?
VIRGINIA: You know, the other night. I'd feel terrible if Bob ever found out.
ME: How would he ever find out?
VIRGINIA: So you won't tell?
ME: I can't believe you're asking me that.
VIRGINIA: I'm sorry.
ME: Find out about what?
VIRGINIA: You know. The kiss and the... you know.
ME: It was beautiful. I'd love for you to describe it.
VIRGINIA: What a nice thing-you're so romantic now. When we were dating, I couldn't believe how cold you were and how selfish-
[sound of tape recorder being turned off]
[pause]
[sound of tape recorder being turned back on]
VIRGINIA: ...separate checks, you loser. What was that beep?
ME: FedEx truck again, but get back to the kiss.
VIRGINIA: Well, we had just had lunch and you walked me back to my apartment and we kissed by the mailboxes, and, you know.
ME: Who is we again?
VIRGINIA: We? You and I.
ME: And your name is?
VIRGINIA: Are you insane? I'm Virginia!
ME: I love it when you say your name....
MOM
(mother)
ME: Mom, I'm really hungry and in a hurry and I can't remember what you told me twelve years ago about how upset you were with Dad's false tax return.
MOM: Well, let me think. I think he had underreported some income on his night job-we were so desperate. Remember, you needed that extra money for college?
ME: Oh, yeah.
MOM: You needed money for... I can't remember.
ME: To buy S.A.T. answers.
MOM: I can't hear you son.
ME: I said... What was that beep?
MOM: FedEx truck backing up. You were saying?
ME: I needed cash to buy answers for my college entrance examination. But that's between us, Mom.
MOM: Of course, son. If you can't trust your mother, who can you trust?
================
This article appeared in The New Yorker magazine on February 23, 1998.