(GK: Garrison Keillor, SS: Sue Scott, TK: Tom Keith, TR: Tim Russell)
(GUY NOIR THEME & SONG)
TR: A dark night in a city that knows how to keep its secrets, but on the 12th floor of the Acme Building, one man is still trying to find the answers to life's persistent questions ... Guy Noir, Private Eye.
(THEME UP AND OUT)
GK: It was the first week of April, spring in St. Paul, or something like spring, and I sat at my desk looking out the window at a neon robin smoking a cigarette on the marquee of the Rockin' Robin Pool Hall up the street. A pigeon, a real one, sat on the window sill (PIGEON), and the sight of him reminded me that I hadn't started on my income tax return. (PHONE RING, PICK UP) Yeah-- Guy Noir here.
TK (ON PHONE): Is this Guy's House of Hair?
GK: No, it's not.
TK (ON PHONE): Look, my wife tossed my toupee in the wash, and it came out shrunk. You got a medium in sort of a Sam Donaldson style?
GK: Sir - you don't want to look like that -
TK (ON PHONE): Hey, what kind of toupee salesman are you?
GK: I'm not.
TK (ON PHONE): Then what are you doing at Guy's House of Hair?
GK: I'm not at Guy's House of Hair. I'm at my office at the Acme building.
TK (ON PHONE): Since when did Guy's House of Hair move to the Acme building?
GK: This isn't Guy's House of Hair. I don't have any toupees.
TK (ON PHONE): Well, why didn't you say so instead of wasting my time? (HANG UP)
GK: People get so touchy at the end of winter. You can't even talk to them. They're crazy as rats in a coffee can. (PHONE RINGS, PICK UP) Look, I don't have any hair.
TR (JESSE): That's okay. Neither do I.
GK: Governor, how are you?
TR (JESSE): Not so bad. Who is this?
GK: Who were you hoping for?
TR (JESSE): I was gonna do a little shopping by phone.
GK: You looking for a hairpiece?
TR (JESSE): I might be. But it's not for me, it's for a friend.
GK: I see. A big guy?
TR (JESSE): Yeah. Size 12 head.
GK: What color you looking for?
TR (JESSE): Blonde. Sort of a Prince Valiant look.
GK: Fine. Synthetic or natural?
TR (JESSE): I'd like it to have a nice bounce to it.
GK: Okay. Synthetic then, probably.
TR (JESSE): Hey, who is this? your voice is familiar. Do I know you?
GK: I don't think so.
TR (JESSE): I do too. Listen, fat head - I read about this in the newspaper and I'm gonna rip your arm out of its socket and beat you over the head with it. Ya hear me? (HANG UP)
GK: The pigeon (PIGEON) gave me an anxious look and (WINGS) then he took off for another windowsill. (PHONE RINGS. RINGS AGAIN. PICK UP) Hello?
SS (SUGAR, ON PHONE): Guy? Is something wrong?
GK: Oh. Hi, Sugar. No, I'm fine. Just being careful. How are you?
SS (SUGAR, ON PHONE): Fine. I just called to say I can't make it for dinner tonight. Something came up. I'll have to take a rain check.
GK: Oh. Okay. We were supposed to have dinner tonight?
SS (SUGAR, ON PHONE): Yes. Eight o'clock. At that new Swedish restaurant. Socks On Your Feet.
GK: Oh. Right.
SS (SUGAR, ON PHONE): Anyway, I can't come. I gotta level with you, Guy. I met someone. I think I'm in love with him.
GK: Oh. Great. - I'm happy for you. (GLOOM CHORD) Who is he?
SS (SUGAR, ON PHONE): He's a civil engineer. Works for the highway department. His name is Earl. He's very sweet.
GK: Uh huh.
SS (SUGAR, ON PHONE): I met him at a square dance. We were partners.
GK: I didn't know you square-danced, Sugar -
SS (SUGAR, ON PHONE): There's a lot you don't know about me, Guy.
GK: I suppose so. Well, I'm glad for you, Sugar. Have fun.
SS (SUGAR, ON PHONE): Don't worry. I will. Bye, Guy. (MUSIC)
GK: Huh. To think that, after all those years with me, she could be attracted to a civil engineer. I mean, it's like going from caviar to Chicken of the Sea. I was so depressed about it, I headed over to her apartment. I mean, a civil engineer - (DOOR BELL, DOOR OPEN) Hi, sweetheart.
SS: Guy! What are you doing here?
GK: I don't know. I just needed to talk to you or something.
SS: About what?
GK: I don't know. Gosh, your apartment sure looks different.
SS: I fixed it up.
GK: I guess so. These big photographs of farm scenes, the quilts, the folk art - what's this?
SS: It's Norwegian rose painting.
GK: But you're not Norwegian -
SS: I like to try new things.
GK: You call this new?
SS: To me it is.
GK: Sweetheart, we used to go out to roadhouses and listen to progressive jazz all night - and stop in at a rib joint afterward and come home about 4 in the morning and usher in the dawn with a glass of champagne.
SS: I know.
GK: Quilts! The next thing you know you'll be tuning in to "A Prairie Home Companion".
SS: What's that?
GK: Well, thank goodness, I got to you before you hit bottom. (DOOR SLAM, OFF)
TR (OFF): Hi, sweetie -
GK: Who's that?
TR (OFF): Where are you?
SS: It's Earl.
GK: Your engineer?
SS: Quick. Hide in the closet. (MUSIC)
GK: I made a dash for the coat closet, and got in, and a moment later I peeked out and saw this guy. Brown corduroy jacket, button-down blue shirt, green striped tie, four-hundred pens in the pocket, the works.
TR: Boy, the traffic out there. Incredible. You all set to head out to the concert?
SS: You bet.
TR: I've been looking forward to this for weeks. A Nordic Roots festival. Boy. This could be something.
SS: I'm glad you're excited.
GK (NARRATING): And just then I had this overpowering urge to - (GK SNEEZE)
TR: Who's that -? (OPEN DOOR) Who are you?
GK: I'm the closet guy. Just finishing up with the measurements.
TR: Closet guy?
GK: From Closets R Us. We like to get in, close the door, get the feel of the space, you know? Anyway, I got all the measurements, and I agree with you about changing the layout so if you're okay with that, we can get your new shelves built by early next week.
SS: Wonderful.
GK: Good. I'll be running along now. Nice to meet you both. Have a nice day.
SS: A pleasure doing business with you. (FOOTSTEPS, DOOR SLAM. MUSIC)
GK (NARRATING): I went down to the corner and waited half an hour for a bus (BUS PULL AWAY) to take me downtown. And I wound up sitting next to this weird guy ...
TK (LARRY): You like cats?
GK: Cats? Me? No.
TK: Oh. You look like somebody who likes cats.
GK: Well, I don't.
TK: Well, you look like you do.
GK: I don't.
TK: You never owned cats?
GK: Me? No. Not for years.
TK: How long?
GK: I forget.
TK: I've got six cats.
GK: Right.
TK: Mama cat and five babies.
GK: Good.
TK: Never dreamed I'd ever have babies.
GK: Right.
TK: (WEEPY) The day their eyes opened and they got up and walked - boy, I'll tell you - it was one of those moments in a guy's life - lemme tell you - you want to see a picture?
GK: No, I don't.
TK: Look at this - that's my family.
GK: Lovely.
TK: Here's another one. Took this from a lower angle.
GK: Right. (MUSIC BRIDGE) And eventually I got downtown and into the Five Spot. (DOOR OPEN, JINGLE, CLOSE. FOOTSTEPS.)
TR (JIMMY): Hey Guy -
GK: Jimmy - how's everything -
TR (JIMMY): Not so bad. What can I get for you?
GK: A Martini and four Advil, Jimmy -
TR (JIMMY): That bad, huh.
GK: Might as well take the antidote with the poison.
TR (JIMMY): Got the blues, Guy?
GK: Naw. Just feeling old and slow and rejected and like I might as well drive myself out to the dump and throw myself on the pile of non-recyclables.
TR (JIMMY): Yeah, that sounds like it.
GK: Sugar's gone and found herself a new boyfriend. A civil engineer.
TR (JIMMY): Maybe she's always wanted a home with a nice driveway.
GK: A guy in Hush Puppies and brown socks with seahorses on them, and he smells like room freshener.
TR: Here's your Martini and Advils.
GK: Thanks.
TR: You want some advice?
GK: No.
TR: Forget Sugar. Move on. Life is now.
GK: Sure. Right.
TR: Don't wind up like him.
GK: Who? the guy at the end of the bar?
TR (JIMMY): Right. Hey - Mac - you're pouring the beer in your ear!
TK (OFF): Oh. I wondered why my shirt was getting wet.
GK: What's his problem?
TR: His girlfriend dumped him for a radio announcer.
GK: A radio announcer!! Ouch. That must hurt. Where do you know him from?
TR: We were teachers together.
TK (OFF): Hey. How come the floor is all blurry?
TR (JIMMY): You're looking at it through the bottom of your glass.
TK (OFF): Oh. Then it must be empty.
GK: You taught school?
TR (JIMMY): Yep.
GK: How long?
TR (JIMMY): Six months. And then I got fired.
GK: How'd that happen?
TR (JIMMY): Took the kids on a field trip to the Institute of Arts. They were rowdy kids so I watched em like a hawk and then I stopped to tie my shoe and - I look up, and, bam, they'd spray-painted a moustache on this woman in a painting.
GK: Oh oh.
TR (JIMMY): So I grabbed it off the wall and dashed to the men's room and tried to wipe it off with a paper towel and it wouldn't come off. Finally I used a powdered cleanser I found under the sink and I got it off right when the cops came -
GK: Did they find out who did it?
TR (JIMMY): Who did it? The painter, Rembrandt, did it.
GK: Uh huh.
TR (JIMMY): It wasn't a moustache. It was more like a shadow on her upper lip. He'd really painted it on good.
GK: So you got fired -
TR (JIMMY): Lost my job and I was sentenced to twenty-thousand hours of community service.
GK: What did you do for community service?
TR (JIMMY): You're looking at it.
GK: Is that right!
TR (JIMMY): I'm a public, non-commercial, drinker-supported bartender.
TK (OFF): Hey, how come those lights are going around on the ceiling?
TR (JIMMY): You're lying on the floor - that's the jukebox.
TK (OFF): Oh. Okay. Why'd she leave me? Why?
GK: Just get over it. Move on.
TK (OFF): Easy for you to say, pal. (THEME)
SS: A dark night in the city that keeps its secrets, where one guy is still trying to find the answers to life's persistent questions ... Guy Noir, Private Eye.
(MUSIC OUT)
(c) 1999 by Garrison Keillor