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NO HELP WANTED
Mister Man. — Turn it off, Mildred.
Sound. — Switch click.
Mister Man. — The masses have been provident and are caring for themselves. Who’s caring for us, I’d like to know?
Mildred. — Now, Eddie, don’t talk like that, we’ll get along somehow.
Mister Man. — How? We’re at the end of the rope, Mildred. Installment people have taken the car. They’ve taken the electric refrigerator, and they’re coming for the radio tomorrow because I can’t keep up the payments. Our last night with the radio, and I hear a stuffed shirt telling me we’re taking care of ourselves.
Mildred. — Well, John, he wasn’t referring to us. . . .
Mister Man. — What do you mean ?
Mildred. — ^Well, after all, you’re a salesman. . . . You aren’t an ordinary day laborer. The masses are . . . well, oh, you know what I mean. . . . We don’t belong to the masses.
Mister Man. — I’m not so sure about that, Mildred. When you’ve been out of a job as long as I have, you get to thinking about a lot of things. When you see everything you’ve worked for go out from under you, your savings, yotur house, your car, your . . . your radio . . . you begin to wonder. ... I guess we are the masses, Mildred. ... I guess it’s phony to have any ideas about being better than the next one any more. . . .
Mildred. — Eddie, that’s no way to talk.
Mister Man. — I dunno why it’s happened. . . . All I know is that I can’t get a job, and I can’t borrow any more money on my life insurance . . . and the bank won’t give me any . . . and everybody’s as bad off as I am. ... I guess we are the masses, all right, Mildred. . . . It’s a cinch we’re all in the same boat . . . and I guess that guy on the radio’s screwy, because we haven’t been provident, and we’re not taking care of ourselves because we don’t know how, and there isn’t anyone to help us.
Music.
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