Turn Around And She's Fifty

Where did the time go? OK, Monica hasn’t run up against the big Five O yet, but when she does, well, I think it might go something like this:

“Linda, it’s me.”

“What a surprise.”

“I deserve that.”

“You certainly do. Don’t you have a mother? Not to mention an attorney.”

“Linda, sarcasm I don’t need. Sarcasm I can get from the Washington Post. Did you read what George Will wrote about me? That little Presbyterian putz.”

“Monica, don’t go there.”

“Where can I go? A girl wants a little romance. Is that so wrong?”

“Monica, you’re the President.”

“You think I don’t know that?”

“You know what your problem is? You dream too big. Being President wasn’t enough for you. Winning a second term wasn’t enough for you.”

“I know. You’d think I’d learn. Do I learn? I don’t learn. Fifty years old, I’m still wearing a thong.”

“I saw the pictures. You looked great.”

“Please. I looked like a Gurnsey in traffic. I can’t help it. When I see a pretty face I go crazy.”

“You’re like him.”

“Don’t say that!”

“You are! What did I say to you?”

“Linda, this I don’t need. For this I have a mother.”

“So why did you call?”

“Why did I call? You think I didn’t hear? You think I didn’t see? Linda Tripp to testify? Film at eleven? You looked good, by the way.”

“I did not.”

“You did. You’ve lost weight.”

“I have not. Oh, by the way, speaking of George Will. Have you heard about the Presbyterian diet? You eat nothing all your life and you still go to Hell.”

“Linda, that’s a scream.”

“I knew you’d like it.”

“Linda, I’m dying. So what will you tell the grand jury?”

“What will I tell? What can I tell? That we’re friends. We talk.”

“Linda, you wouldn’t.”

“I wouldn’t? You think I’m going to jail? I hear they don’t have room service.”

“Linda, stand by me on this one and I’ll get you a condo in Boca.”

“I don’t need a condo in Boca. I need a new hip!”

“Linda, this is your President speaking.”

“Monica, this is Linda you’re talking to. I love you like a daughter, but I’m taking this hip to the DC lockup for no one.”

“I could pardon you.”

“That would help? They’d make me an accessory.”

“Linda, you could show a little patriotism.”

“Patriotism? Who was the patriot posing for pretty boy with his mini-cam? What were you thinking?”

“When I see cute I don’t think. He said I was more fun than barrel full of shiksas.”

“Oy gevalt. I hope he was worth it.”

“What can I tell you, Linda? You know how it is. You can be an interne, you can be the President: if you’re a woman, you still end up on the bottom.”