The next day. Early evening.VERONICA’s apartment. VERONICA is in the living room getting dressed, smoking a joint, and talking to someone in the bathroom.
VERONICA: I can’t do this no more, okay?! It’s over for real! So please don’t gimme no static about it, ’cuz I’ll wrap a fuckin’ bedsheet ’round my head and go straight up Bin Laden on you — I’ll fuckin’ destroy you! And I don’t wanna do that, but if you ever fuckin’ come back here again, that’s how it’s gonna be! And I’m being nice about this ’cuz it ain’t like we had nothin’, it was something. It was messed up, and it messed me up, and basically I’m ready to hurl myself off a building any fuckin’ minute now, but I’m not saying what we had was nothin’ because it wasn’t nothin’, but now it’s over, so leggo my Eggo and have a nice life nowhere the fuck near me, okay?! Don’t say goodbye. Just go … (A man emerges from the bathroom. It’s RALPH. Naked.)
RALPH D: … You know that woman sponsor he had when he first got out? He fucked her. (Pause.)
VERONICA: I know.
RALPH D: Yeah. He told me after being with her, physically, that the thought of being with you for life felt like he was settling. I told him he ought to have his head examined.
VERONICA: … Why would you tell me that?
RALPH D: Because it’s true. Because you deserve to know it.
VERONICA: Oh please! You fake AA motherfuckers make me sick. Y’all all the time preaching honesty and selflessness, meanwhile y’all more dishonest and selfish than half of C Block at fuckin’ Rikers. Just get out of here, alright?
RALPH D: That’s your excuse to stay fucked up? That’s the best you can do?
VERONICA: Bitch, I hold down a job, I pay the rent, and I mostly don’t act the fool or be nasty for no reason, so in my book, if giving up my substances means I gotta turn into the navel-gazing, fake-recovered, self-satisfied clown like the bitches I see up at your meetings, then you know what — pass the joint, shake me a margarita, and kiss my ass while I blow a fuckin’ crack pipe, Ralph! Go put that in your fuckin’ big book, bitch.
RALPH D: … I’ll miss you.
VERONICA: Yeah, well, I missed the Easter Bunny, but I got over it. (A beat. RALPH begins dressing.)
RALPH D: … So … which salon are you cutting hair at now?
VERONICA: It’s a little place off 7th called “None of your fuckin’ business.”
RALPH D: Well, if you need money for rehab — or an exorcism — let me know.
VERONICA: Oh doan worry. The little money you helped me out with, that you hold over my head like you donated a fuckin’ kidney, it will all be paid back in full.
RALPH D: That’s not necessary. I was glad to help.
VERONICA: Whatever.
RALPH D: … I’m thinking about leaving my wife.
VERONICA: Good. Think about it more on your way out.
RALPH D: I’m serious. What if I told you I’d leave her? That I’d be your man full-time, no bullshit?
VERONICA: You was never my man part-time, Ralph. You was never nothin’ but an emotional fuckin’ escape hatch, and a free ride upstate once a month to see my man — and dass the all of it. We fucked five times in two years, and this makes six, and we done now — so please, for the last time, leave quietly before I get agitational on your ass — ’cuz believe me, right now, I got nothin’ better to do than to go Buck on a motherfucker — and if you keep trying me, that exactly what I’m gonna fuckin’ do!
RALPH D: Your bravado, Veronica — it’s a lotta transparently ignorant, defensive nonsense and you know it. It feels so good when you’re spewing it, right? Because it’s so “how we do,” “in your face,” “talk to the hand,” fuckin’ “you go girl!”, and all that schoolyard, jailhouse, hood rat buncha bullshit? But what happens when the rush of acting like a fuckin’ animal passes, Veronica — and you’ve vented all your shit, and there’s nothing and no one left to lash out at, and no more drugs till morning, and you’re just all alone, by yourself — with nothing to feel except how fucked up your life is and how you basically just wanna die? … Again?! Yeah, that’s right. And the one person you know with the actual means to help you, who actually got a real feeling in his heart for you, who thinks being with you would be nothing like “settling”; the one guy who’s been there for you for the last two years 24/7 whatever you need, who jeopardized his marriage for you, who picked you up out of bars when you were stumbling like a fuckin’ suicidal, homeless zombie, who took you home and didn’t fuck you? That guy?! Me?! Well, you just went “Buck” on him, so forget about that guy.
VERONICA: I already have. (Beat.)
RALPH D: It ain’t never gonna work between you and Jackie — you know that, right? People attract who they’re ready for — and the two of you ain’t ready for nothing but more of this same type spinning your wheels bullshit …
VERONICA: … You’re not gonna say anything to him about any of this, are you?
RALPH D: … No. That would be helping no one. He’s staying at my place, you know. Jackie.
VERONICA: … That’s nice.
RALPH D: Hey, we do what we can.
VERONICA: … Good … Bye.
RALPH D: You could do a lot better though. And you always got my number.
VERONICA: You’re all class, Ralph.
RALPH D: It takes courage to change …
VERONICA: Uh-huh … How’s he doing?
RALPH D: Jackie? Good. Excellent. If I do say so myself.
VERONICA: Right. Whatever …
RALPH D: Okay then. I’ll leave you to … All this.
VERONICA: Uh-huh. You got everything?
RALPH D: Yes I do.
VERONICA: You better never tell him.
RALPH D: Call me when you’re sober.
VERONICA: Call me when you’re fuckin’ dead. (RALPH exits.)