Wednesday, 26 September 2007

Lila The Ex-pat Polish Princess

(This character is separate from Norma. She is a hemisphere away--an eccentric aging Polish aristocrat living in North London for the past thirty years, but in her mind, she has never left her homeland. She has a high-pitched lilting squeaky voice.)

Hello. How are you?
My name is Lila. Oh how silly of me to introduce myself.
You certainly must know who I am unless you are....
So common that you do not read the papers...
A possibility from looking at your shoes.
Or maybe you have a bad shoe day.
You have probably seen me in the magazines.....
in my long gowns and tiaras.
Shaking hands with other princesses like myself.
Maybe why you don't recognize me now.

Oh . You are artist?
Well then . You must certainly come and see my collection
Of cardboard Jesus Paintings.
I will give you a tour, but of course,
Not for free.
I would appreciate some offer of jewelry
Or trrrrrinkets if they are gold or have some style.
You over there. Your dress is very lovely,
But please, do wash it before you give it to me.
Your choice of perfume is overpowering
Even at this distance.

The price tag. Yes. I know.
I stick it on there especially. 10 pence.
Is not true price. Is precaution....
For the robbers that come at night,
Incase they want to steal my precious paintings,
They see price and walk away.

This one lovely.....
Is Jesus the Shepard on the hill with the baby sheep.
They are bleating....
Bleating for Jesus.
And you wonder, I know, about the gold frames.
Yes. They are plastic. It is not that I can't afford
It is precaution. As I have many thieves in my house
Come night.
Also, the real gold is too too heavy.
It makes them to fall off the wall at night and smash my plants.

Yes. These plants...very special plants.
I know. Dead yes. Dead for many years now.
But Elvis gave them to me.
What can I do?
He was such a good tennant.
Nobody knows
How he loved gardening....and so...
He put the potted palm trees all the way
Up the stairs....and watered them
With wine.....every night.

I am not one to write a book about my times
With Elvis. Infact. I think ....I say nothing more about him now
Even to you. But I will tell you about Lady Di.
Or perhaps next time.
My doctor is coming for dinner.
I must ready.

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