(GK: Garrison Keillor; SS: Sue Scott; TR: Tim Russell; TK: Tom Keith)
(GUY NOIR THEME)
TR: A dark night in a city that knows how to keep its secrets, but high above the busy streets, on the twelfth floor of the Acme Building, one man is still trying to find the answers to life's persistent questions --- Guy Noir, Private Eye ---
(PIANO)
GK: It was November in St. Paul, the week after the election, and there was a lot of remorse in the air, sort of like people coming home from a garage sale, wondering why they paid so much for the stuffed dog. It was cold and the wind was from the west. You could smell the Lysol from Minneapolis. I looked up at the dark clouds and I could see the faces of old girlfriends who don't ever want to see me again. I guess they loved me so much that we could never be friends. Maybe that was our problem in the first place. (MUSIC BRIDGE) (AMBIENCE, FIVE SPOT)
TR (JIMMY): You oughta try one of these dating services, Guy.
GK: I did, back when they were called Lonely Hearts clubs. I sent them
my picture and they sent it back. I guess they weren't that lonely.
TR (JIMMY): Hey. Man was not meant to live by himself alone.
GK: Wasn't meant to live with women, either. That's what they keep telling me.
TR (JIMMY): You need to meet some women and go out on dates. Have fun----
GK: Awwwww...
TR (JIMMY): Sit at a candlelit table and tell her what she wants to hear and watch the wine do its work----
GK: I don't need a dating service. I could get a date anytime I want ---- all I have to do is ---- well, maybe I should call a dating service.
TR (JIMMY): You tell em all about yourself, and then they pick out the women whose profiles match your profile and the women call you up and you take it from there----- (BRIDGE)
GK: So I called up the Whispering Palms Computer Dating Service and told them stuff about myself, not everything, some things ---- And meanwhile, I got a call from a guy named Burnside whose neighbor had cut down the flowering crabapple that Burnside said was on his side of the line.
TK (ON PHONE): My crabapple tree! He comes out one morning while I'm at work and he cuts the thing down!! I can't believe it!!! He said it was dropping leaves on his property! Well, so what! Does that give him the right to cut down my crabapple tree????! (HE GOES ON FUMING)
GK: Well, don't have a hemorrhage over it. What do you want me to do?
TK (ON PHONE): I want you to go after this idiot. I think he's a drug dealer and he's manufacturing methamphetamine in his basement and I want you to get the dirt on him, Mr. Noir, so I can have him locked up where he belongs!
GK: Okay, but I'll need a retainer of $500 and I get $100 an hour.
TK (ON PHONE): A HUNDRED DOLLARS AN HOUR!!???
GK: Okay. $20 then. (BRIDGE) So he sent me a retainer to do his dirty work and meanwhile, I'm waiting for beautiful women to call up and ask me out for a date. (PHONE RING. PICK UP) Yeah. Noir here---
TK (ON PHONE): Listen. It's Burnside. Now he's building a PRIVACY FENCE! Twelve feet high! He cuts down my crabapple tree and now he's got to have A PRIVACY FENCE! More like the Berlin Wall, if you ask me----- (BRIDGE)
GK: Bad blood between neighbors. There's nothing so ugly. Burnside was calling me, calling up city hall, calling up lawyers---- (PHONE RING. PICK UP) Yeah? Guy Noir here.
SS (THROATY, OLD): Is this the Guy Noir who registered with the computer dating service?
GK: No, this is a different one, I think.
SS (THROATY, OLD): There's more than one Guy Noir?
GK: Evidently.
SS (THROATY, OLD): Oh. The dating service gave me this number. My name is Moira. But my friends call me "Duke."
GK: I'm sorry. You're looking for somebody else.
SS (THROATY, OLD): You sound kind of sexy. You married?
GK: I am.
SS (THROATY, OLD): Happily?
GK: I've been married so long, I don't think in those terms. (BRIDGE) I could swear her upper plate was loose. Probably calling from a nursing home. I'm all for assisted living but I don't want to be the assistant. (PHONE RING) (HE DRAWS A DEEP BREATH) (PICK UP) Yeah?
TR (JULIA): A very gracious good morning to you----
GK: Can I help you with something?
TR (JULIA): I'm calling for a Guy Noir. This is Violet DuMont. He registered with the dating service.
GK: Is that right? Well, this is Wendell, I'm a staff person here at the Good Shepherd Home. I apologize to you, ma'am. I'll see that he doesn't bother you again.
TR (JULIA): Well, on the profile, it says he is 43 years old and works in the security field.
GK: Social security, he means. No, ma'am, we'll keep a closer watch on Mr. Noir---- sorry for the inconvenience.
TR (JULIA): Quite all right. You wouldn't happen to be free to attend the ballet tonight, would you?
GK: I'm sorry. I got the night shift tonight. But thanks. (BRIDGE) I felt bad about lying to these women, but it would much crueler to sit through a long dinner and make them tell their life story and pretend to be interested. I don't want to date older women. They're too cynical. They look at romance with a jaundiced eye. I can jaundice a woman myself, I don't need her to be pre-jaundiced. (RING) (PICK UP) Guy Noir, here.
TR (RICO): Listen to me, Noir, you jerk ---- you're working with my no-good neighbor ---- let me tell you, I'm tearing down my garage and I'm putting up a tower with a searchlight---- this is war, baby (HANG UP)
GK: Boy. A little neighborhood zoning dispute and (RING) (HE WAITS) (SECOND RING) ---- (PICK UP) Ranch Pizza, this is Chip, may I take your order.
SS (OLD LADY): This is Evelyn calling ---- you want to go to the Early Bird Country Buffet and then see a movie? There's one at the Mall that I hear is prrrretty racy.
GK: I'm sorry, this is a pizza parlor. Ranch Pizza.
SS (OLD LADY): The heck it is. I got Caller ID. This is Guy Noir. Let's go out and get sky high on rum-and-cokes. What do you say? You ever dated an old broad before?
GK: Never intentionally, no.
SS (OLD LADY): We could come back to my place and spin the bottle of Mylanta. If you know what I mean!
GK: I don't want to know what you mean, Evelyn. (MUSIC) I was about to head over to the Five Spot for a sarsaparilla when (POUNDING ON DOOR) --- Come in --- don't knock the door down. (DOOR IS FLUNG OPEN, SLAMMED SHUT. ANGRY FOOTSTEPS) Oh, it's you. Mr. Burnside.
TK: Boy am I burned up. That no good neighbor of mine --- you're not going to believe this --- he's putting up a 40-foot block tower with a revolving searchlight at the top! The thing shines right into my bedroom!! I can't believe it. It makes me --------- furious!!!!---- (GLASS BREAKAGE). (PAUSE) Sorry.
GK: That was my souvenir Minnesota State Fair vase.....with a picture of the horticulture building on it. I've had that since I was a child. How am I going to replace that?
TK: I'm sorry.
GK: Well, you should be. Get a grip on yourself for heaven's sake.
TK: I'm all right. I just got excited.
GK: Well, get excited someplace else.
TK: I'm sorry. I just can't believe this guy. Cuts down my crabapple tree, builds a privacy fence, and now a 40-foot tower. And you know something else? He's suing me for mental distress. Mental distress! After what he's done to me, now he's suing me. I can't take it anymore!!!! (BIG CRUNCH OF WOOD AND GLASS) (PAUSE) Sorry. I didn't see it there.
GK: That was my 1947 Atwater Kent radio, mister. An antique.
TK: Sorry.
GK: I used to listen to "Tom Mix" on that radio. Brought to you by Shredded Ralston. Look at it. You shredded it.
TK: I'm sorry. I have a bad temper.
GK: Well, take it someplace else, would you? (PHONE RING) (PICK UP) Yeah? Noir here.
TR (ON PHONE, RICO): Hey Noir. You got that meatball neighbor of mine there? Tell him this from me. I'm opening a motorcycle repair shop in my house and a shelter for Rottweilers. Tell him that.
GK: I'd be happy to come over for dinner, Leonora. Can I bring something? Dessert? A salad?
TR (ON PHONE, RICO): What you talking about, ya ding dong?
GK: Okay. Seven o'clock. I'll be there with bells on. (HANG UP)
TK: You going out for dinner?
GK: A lady friend of mine.
TK: I thought you were working on my case.
GK: I am. (KNOCKS ON DOOR) Excuse me. (FOOTSTEPS AWAY) (PHONE RING) Could you get that for me?
TK: Sure. (PICK UP, OFF) Yeah? Who?
GK: (OPEN DOOR) Yes, sir, come in. (DOOR CLOSE) Sorry the door was locked. I have a lot of women after me.
TR (CLINT): My name is Clint Hardanger, Mr. Noir. I'm from the Whispering Palms Computer Dating Service. Guess that's why you got all these women chasing you, huh? (IRRITATING LAUGH)
GK: Yes, I guess so.
TR (CLINT): Well, better to have em chasin you than runnin away from you, huh? (IRRITATING LAUGH)
GK: Whatever you say, sir.
TR (CLINT): I'm the fashion and grooming consultant at Whispering Palms, Mr. Noir. Just want to help you look as good as you can under the circumstances. (IRRITATING LAUGH)
GK: I'm sort of busy. I have someone on the phone.
TR (CLINT): How old is that suit?
GK: Excuse me. (FOOTSTEPS) Who called?
TK: It was Leonora. I told her you'd be having dinner with her tonight, and she said to bring a salad and a Glenn Miller record and some Metamucil.
GK: You told her I was coming over????
TK: Well, that's what I thought you said.
TR (CLINT): Have you ever used a hairspray, Mr. Noir? Seems to me like you could use one on your eyebrows. They look like they're getting ready to fly off your face. (IRRITATING LAUGH)
(PHONE RING)
TK: I'll get it.
GK: Excuse me. (PICK UP) Yeah, Noir here.
TR (ON PHONE, RICO): Hey. Dogface. You got my neighbor there? Listen, I'm putting in a parking lot in my front yard and a hot dog stand and a Petting Zoo, so whaddaya think of them potatoes, huh? Huh? You there?
GK: I'm looking forward to it, too, Leonora. Bye, darling. (GK KISS) (HANG UP)
TK: Sounds like you and she got quite an evening planned, huh? Heh heh heh heh.
TR (CLINT): Yeah. Just try not to tickle her with your nose hair. (IRRITATING LAUGH)
GK: Would you mind not laughing?
TR (CLINT): Me? How can I keep from laughing, looking at you? (IRRITATING LAUGH)
GK: Just make an effort. (PHONE RING) Don't answer that. (PHONE SERIES OF RINGS) It's nothing I care to get into right now.
TK: Maybe it's that goofball neighbor of mine----
GK: You know, it might be a wise thing for you not to go home tonight.
TK: Of course I'm going home---- what's goin on?
GK: Go to a nice hotel. Sit in the steam room. Cool off.
TK: Cool off!!!! What you talking about???? Cool off about what??? (BIG RIP) (LONG PAUSE) Sorry.
GK: I don't know why I go to the trouble of hanging curtains here---- (MUSIC BRIDGE) He went storming out and I headed over to Leonora's. (MUSIC) (TABLEWARE, CLINK.)
SS (OLD): How'd you like the hamburger hot dish?
GK: Fine.
SS (OLD): You like it?
GK: Yes, it's very good.
SS (OLD): You care for more?
GK: No, thanks.
SS (OLD): Good.
GK: I'm trying to watch my weight.
SS (OLD): I think that's a good idea.
GK: Oh.
SS (OLD): I think you oughta watch your hair, too.
GK: Oh.
SS (OLD): Lemme be frank with you, Mr. Noir. I'm looking for a husband and I need to find one right away so I have somebody to go with to Christmas parties. And frankly, you don't turn me on.
GK: No?
SS (OLD): No, you don't steam up my glasses, Mr. Noir. You just don't make my heart pound. You know?
GK: Well, I wasn't trying to, I was just eating supper.
SS: I'm sorry. But as soon as you're done with your coffee, I've got to ask you to leave. I've got someone coming for dessert----
GK: You've got two dates in one night?
SS: At my age, there's no time to waste. (BRIDGE)
TR (JIMMY): So how's the dating, Guy?
GK: Not so good.
TR (JIMMY): You haven't met anybody you care for?
GK: No, it's not that. It's the shock of meeting someone new and they look at you and you can see disappointment written all over their face. And last night, I had the shock of being with an old lady who's ugly as a mud fence and she looked at me and told me that I didn't turn her on.
TR (JIMMY): Yeah. It's hard to be the rejectee.
GK: Face it, Jimmy. I'm at that stage in life where "getting lucky" means being able to find my car in the parking lot.
TR (JIMMY): How about a martini?
GK: Naw. I've killed off enough brain cells as it is. Better save the few I have left.
TR (JIMMY): Well, tomorrow is another day.
GK: Yes. I suppose so. (THEME)
(MUSIC)
TR: A dark night in a city that keeps its secrets, and there on
the twelfth floor of the Acme Building is a guy still trying to find the
answers to life's persistent questions.....Guy Noir, private eye.
(MUSIC OUT)
© Garrison Keillor 2002