Conversation With My Mother After The Opening Night of my Play, Two Sizes Too Small
My Mother: This is your time, darling. I can feel it!
Me: Thank you, Mother.
My Mother: I know you didn't just say, ‘thank you’ to your own mother. You must have said ‘fuck you.’ That would be better… Unless I’m lying here intubated and unconscious, and only then, do I ever want to hear you say, “Ohhhhhh, Mother! Thank you soooooo much for everything!” Until then Jessica, do not say 'thank you' to me ever again. Do you understand?
Me: Yes, Mother.
My Mother: So, did they review the show?
Me: Yes. Last night.
My Mother: Well, where is the review?
Me: It’s not online yet.
My Mother: Jesus, Jessica. You need to be in print, and you need to be in print NOW!
Me: I’m doing the best I can, Mother.
My Mother: Well, make sure you do that sickening thing…
Me: What sickening thing?
My Mother: ...Schmooze. You need to go out and talk to everyone, and say things like, “Do you know it’s anatomically impossible for a horse to vomit?"
Me: Is that true?
My Mother: Yes, it is true… Horses have nonstriated muscles in their esophagus. And they cannot vomit. See how interesting that is?
Me: Alright, I’ll try it.
My Mother: Little things like that are going to get you on the map, Darling.
Me: If you say so.
My Mother: Jesus, you don’t know how to play the game, Jessica. And I highly recommend you start playing. In fact it might be a good idea when you go out, especially when attending other people’s shows, to wear your tap shoes. Try not to be too obvious, but when you walk across the floor, just a do a few bucks and wings. And wear a name-tag—Jessica Kane. Producer. Two Sizes Too Small. It’s really not that hard to get a little bit of attention, Jessica. I do it all the time... If you listen to me, you have no idea how far you'll go.
Me: Ok, Mother.
My Mother: Call me later, Darling. I could use some vicarious thrills while I’m lying here dying.
Me: I’ll call you a little later.
My Mother: I love you, Darling.
Me: Love you too, Mother.
-JLK