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Cafe Boeuf GK: ...brought to you by the Cafe Boeuf, with Maurice the maitre'd your host. TK: (GIBBERISH ENDING IN FRENCH WOOFS) GK: Yes, at the Cafe Boeuf, in the tradition of French elegance, dogs are now welcome. TK: (GIBBERISH) GK: The old French aristocracy would never think of going out without their dogs----- (TK: Non non non non non) --- and now you can bring yours too, if it's well behaved, as my French poodle Elaine is (ELEGANT BARKS) Good evening, Maurice. TK: Bon soir, monsieur. Bon soir, Elaine. (ELEGANT BARK) This way, monsieur. (FOOTSTEPS) A quiet table, monsieur? Near the window? GK: Excellent. (FOOTSTEPS STOP) Merci, Maurice. TK: Does monsieur wish an apertif or wine this evening? GK: Uh. Elaine, voudriez-vous une apertif? (DOG BARK) Non? Une vin blanc? (DOG BARK) Non? Une vin rouge? (DOG BARKS TWICE) Tres bien. Red wine, Maurice. A half bottle of Chateau La Foot. And two glasses. TK: Chateau Lafoot. Excellent. (FOOTSTEPS AWAY) SS (SLIGHTLY OFF, AT FIRST): Excuse me---- that's a nice looking dog. GK: Thank you. SS: Seems very intelligent. GK: Yes, she is. (DOG BARK, PANTS) Excuse me. Q'est-ce que vous avez du? (WOOF) Voudriez-vous une cigarette? (TWO WOOFS) Oui, oui, Elaine. Excuse me--- ma'am? SS: Yes? GK: Do you mind if my dog smokes? SS: Your dog smokes? GK: She is French. You know. SS: No, I don't mind. Go ahead. GK: Thanks. Un moment, Elaine. (LIGHTS MATCH) Tres bien. (DOG INHALES, EXHALES SMOKE. PANTS) SS: I notice that your dog understands French. GK: Yes. She seems to. So far. SS: So you're fluent in French? GK: No, no. But how much French do you need to know to talk to a dog? Huh? I mean--- SS: She doesn't care for English? GK: No. Doesn't like the sound of it. SS: But can your dog understand English? (DOG INHALE, EXHALE. PANTS) GK: I honestly don't know. SS: You never tried to find out? GK: Nope. No need to. SS: I must say, I've always thought those haircuts they give poodles are the dumbest looking things ----- (DOG SNARL) --- what is she doing? why is she coming toward me? is she going to bite?? GK: No, ma'am. This dog never bites. SS: But---- (PAUSE AND SOUND OF DOG PEEING ON SHOE). Oh my. Oh dear. This is outrageous. This is--- I am----- you are not----- Waiter! Waiter---- (FOOTSTEPS APPROACH) Waiter, this dog --- TK: Madame, I am not a waiter. I am a maitre'd. SS: I don't care. This dog has just expressed herself on my shoe. TK: Well, how would you like me to express myself on your other shoe---- SS: This dog has ruined my shoe. Look at this. That dog did that. TK: That is a French dog, madame. I'm sure she had her reasons. SS: Well. This is the last time I come in here. Goodbye. (A RATTLE OF PLATES AS SHE STANDS UP AND ANGRY WOMAN'S FOOTSTEPS AWAY) TK: What did she say to Elaine? GK: She insulted her hair style. TK: The wrong thing to say to a French dog. Your wine, monsieur. (POURING) GK: Elaine? C'est bien? (DOG LAPPING WINE. TWO WOOFS) ....A message from the Cafe Boeuf. (PLAYOFF) © 1997 by Garrison Keillor |
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