Ramon Casas - Decadent Young Woman after the Ball

Decadent Young Woman after the Ball
by Ramon Casas 

O, how the beautiful lady in the black dress had danced! Gayly tripping the night fantastic, until Phoebus in golden mantle clad had scaled the wall of the glittering east, and it was the hour to bid her sad 'Adieux'. 

Exhausted now she lies on her sumptuous divan dreaming of the ball and how she had dazzled all with her charm and her dance melodious. 

But her joy at the ball was tinged with her sadness at leaving. And is this not so with us all? Who among us has felt not the sorrow of parting? 

But for the lady in the black dress there will be more balls voluptuous! And more dawns collapsed on her divan in an ecstatic and decadent bliss. 

The Doctor's Appointment

Doctor's surgery. DOCTOR, male, at his desk. Makes an announcement  on speaker)


DOCTOR: Mr Gerald Jones,  Room 6. (Puts down microphone) Right, now I must try and avoid the use of any bad language with Mr Jones. He is a patient, after all, and I'm far too liberal in my use of obscenities. But it isn't easy! The fact is that I find I can express myself comfortably if I use bad language. It's just how I am. But I must try nonetheless to more restrained in my choice of words. (At that moment the surgery door opened and PATIENT, Mr Jones came in.) Ah, Mr er... Please come in, take a seat.

PATIENT: Thank you, doctor.  

DOCTOR: So what's the fucking problem? 

PATIENT: It's my toe, doctor. 

DOCTOR: Your toe? What's wrong with your fucking toe?

PATIENT: I think it could be an ingrowing toenail. 

DOCTOR: Well let's have a look at your toe. (Examines toe) Yes, it's a fucking ingrown toenail all right.

PATIENT: So what can be done, doctor? 

DOCTOR: We'll have to cut it off.

PATIENT: (startled) Cut my toe off?

DOCTOR: No, no, not your fucking toe. Just the fucking bit of the nail that's growing inwards. 

PATIENT: Thank goodness for that! For a moment you had me worried, doctor. 

DOCTOR: So does it hurt?

PATIENT: It does when I knock it. .

DOCTOR: I'll bet it fucking does! Anyway, I'll make you a hospital appointment and we'll get the fucking thing sorted.

PATIENT: How long will it take, doctor, to have the operation? 

DOCTOR: That's a fucking good question. It's difficult to fucking say. You'll just have to patient. That's why you're called fucking patients, after all, eh? (Laughs aloud at his joke) So anyway, you'll hear from us as soon as possible. Now I  can't be fucking fairer than that. 

PATIENT: OK. Thanks a lot, doctor. You've been very helpful. 

DOCTOR: No fucking problem. 

     PATIENT walks to the door, hits his toe on the wall.

PATIENT: Ooh, my toe! (He hops around the room screaming.)

     NURSE comes running in.

NURSE: What's all the fucking noise? 

DOCTOR: Mr er... has hit his fucking toe on the wall. 

NURSE: Come on, I'll help you out. Hold on to my fucking arm.


     NURSE helps PATIENT out of the surgery. 

DOCTOR: (alone - to himself) Well I didn't do very good there. My resolution to no longer use had language didn't get past the first hurdle. I really must try harder. Who's the next patient? Let me see. Reverend Williams. Well, it should be easy to restrain my impulses with a man of the church. (Makes announcement on speaker.) Reverend Williams,  Room 6, please.  (Puts down microphone) Now stay calm. Just relax. Remember what you have to do. (The door opens and REVEREND Williams comes in.) Ah, Reverend, please take a seat. First of all may I apologise for failing to attend church in recent months. Purely a lapse I assure you. Perhaps you'll permit me to make a donation to the fund for the maintenance of the tower. Shall we say twenty pounds? 

REVEREND: Fuck off! Do something about my fucking arthritis, you fucking quack! 

DOCTOR: Right... well if you'd er... care to lie on your back on the trolley and tell me exactly what the fucking problem is and I'll give you a good fucking examination. Now I can't be fucking fairer than that. Well fucking can I?

     (DOCTOR examines REVEREND with professional acumen and at ease with himself. )



ENDS