Act 1, Scene 5: "Friday Night: A Babysitter!"

S arranges for a babysitter. The first sitter in the new home. Friday night out. P-a-r-t-y.

The baby sitter arrives, B, a super hotty college sophomore at SU. The boys are put to bed and the grownups are gone.

First, though, TRL reviews the safety issues.

The fire extinguisher is at the foot of the stairs, right in front of the guest room, TRL explains. It is still in its box, but he figures having it out is better than tucked away in a closet.

Here is a sheet with the emergency numbers. Here’s my cell phone number. Call it with any questions. If I don’t answer, call S’s cell phone.

B nods, her faced studied seriousness.

If there is an emergency, call 911.

TRL points to “Emergency 911” typed onto the contact sheet. He had put it in bold.

B nods. TRL knows that she thinks he is an overprotective neurotic. He doesn’t necessarily disagree.

Here is the poison control emergency number. TRL moves his finger down.

TRL, let’s go, says S.

They begin to walk to the door.

We don’t know anybody here, we have no friends, so no one will be visiting, says TRL. Don’t let anybody in.

B nods, a bit more warily.

You’re not expecting friends?

No, says B.

TRL smiles. Bye.

We’ll be back by 11, says S.

Time for fun. They are on their way to dinner out, a restaurant suggested by a work colleague of S’s.

Down Route 10, a cell phone call to check on TRL’s dad’s kidney stones, looking out for the sign saying Shoppers World. This is where the restaurant is situated. Normally, as in another lifetime, this would have been the cause of derision by TRL, but now he is just happy to be out of the house on an adult outing.

They pull into the shopping complex, pass Barnes & Noble, Sports Authority, Marshals, Bennigan’s, Old Navy. TRL knows he should care about this, find this repulsive and ridiculous. He used to call Soho his backyard. He thought the East Village had gone commercial, the West Village was filling with yuppies. The prospect of a mall dinner would have been unthinkable. And yet, here he was, and oddly happy. Like being stuck by a mosquito which squirts numbing agent into the skin before it starts to suck, TRL was anesthetized to his plight. Or, he thought, maybe his pain threshold had just moved.

There it is, S calls out excitedly. TRL turns to her and smiles. They were in this together. He pulls into the parking spot. Dinner time.