JENNY BROCK sits at a chair in front of a large table. On
the table is a blueprint of the proposed design of Jenny's
new house in East Hampton. Opposite Jenny sits KENDRA
SAFFRON, the architect. Jenny is looking at the plans.
So, what do you think?
I don't like it.
It satisfies all your concerns without
adding any additional cost.
I'm not concerned with additional costs.
Do you think I'm concerned with
What I'm saying is that I have added
square footage, together with an extra
bathroom, and by cutting back the
foundation footprint, I have kept the
cost essentially the same.
Where's the pool?
No. The lap pool. I want a lap pool.
You said nothing about a lap pool.
I distinctly remember saying I wanted a
You said you wanted a Jacuzzi.
A large Jacuzzi...one I can swim in.
Back and forth, back and forth. I have
to do laps.
Well, we can add a lap pool.
The kind that is inside and out.
Inside and out?
A long one with one end inside the house
and the other end outside the house.
That requires a substantial re-working of
the wall supports...and of course it will
add substantially to the cost.
I told you, I'm not concerned about the
If you don't mind me saying this, your
husband gave me instructions that he did
not want the total cost to exceed 1.4
million. We are already at 1.38.
I don't give a fuck what my husband said.
We're getting divorced anyway.
He doesn't know it, and I'd appreciate it
if you'd keep your mouth shut about the
It would violate my professional code of
ethics to not advise him of the estimated
Look, after the divorce, this house is
going to be mine. I'm going to be living
in it, with my Pharaoh hound, Muffy, my
three Van Goghs, and my lap pool. You
fudge the figures so the house gets built
the way I want it.
I can't do that.
Where do you live?
And how is that relevant?
Where do you live?
On 132nd Street and Morningside Avenue.
It's a black area, right?
Well, it's mostly black, or at least dark
skinned, Hispanic, drug addicts, and you
people remain stuck in that
neighborhood...and do you know why?
No. Tell me. Why?
Because you're not willing to fuck your
I'm not talking about sex. I'm talking
about fuck, as in to screw, to pull a job
on your old man so you get the fruits and
make a killing.
Really. I didn't realize that my people
were "stuck" for that reason.
Absolutely. White people have been
fucking each other for generations, and
that accounts for the fact that we own
homes on Park Avenue and East Hampton and
you're stuck in some railroad flat in
I happen to own a brownstone with my
A brownstone in Harlem. Really. You
call that living.
I think this meeting is over.
No, you're not listening to me. I read
this in the paper the other day. Divorce
rates for white people are three times
that of blacks. Three times. And
everytime there's a divorce, we women are
in a position to make a killing. Blacks
are way behind in social evolution from
us whites, and it shows in your
neighborhoods and your schools and your
We black people, as you say, have
families, intact families...I think
that's a superior state of social
evolution than the mess you are in.
I'm not in any mess. I'm getting a lap
pool. Do you have a lap pool?
I don't want a lap pool.
This is your problem.
My problem is that I have a privileged
white bitch with racist attitudes sitting
in my office.
Oh, don't pull the race card with me.
I think I will call your husband and
inform him of your plans.
Oh, it won't matter. I'll just deny it.
And he's so gullible. An idiot, really.
You hate blacks, Hispanics, and all men.
White men. I actually like black men.
Well, I'm curious. I can't say I've ever
This discussion has become ridiculous and
I am being dragged into a conversation
which is not only a waste of time but an
outrage. Can you please leave my office.
OK. OK. I can live without the lap
pool. Just...just don't call my husband.
You know, he doesn't even know you're
black. You don't sound black...you have
a very white voice, at least on the
telephone. So if you call him and tell
him about my intent to give him the dump,
I'm going to tell him your black...and he
won't like that. And if I remember
correctly, he owes you a lot of
money...by last count, about
$45,000...and he won't cut a check like
that to a black person. He's really a
disgusting guy, very racist A pig,
really. You see why I want a divorce.
Forget the lap pool. Just get the damn
thing built so I can move to East Hampton
and start my divorce. That's all I want
out of life.
Jenny gets up and leaves. Kendra sits there, lost somewhere
between befuddlement and anger.