Masterfully written scene from David Rabe’s “HurlyBurly.” Background: unsentimental Mickey steals his best buddy, Eddie’s gal for a one-nighter, but really wants nothing further to do with her. Sometime after, he observes Eddie attempting a reconciliation with Darlene and then pounces on the opportunity to feign altruism to let Darlene go, “for her own good,” essentially passing her off back to Eddie, who genuinely digs her, and washing his hands of the whole matter and in the process, coming off looking like a great guy.

He interrupts some awkwardness, starts with some light humour to put everyone at ease and then takes command from there.

Mickey: I’m late, I know. I just. Argh. Sorry.  (Kisses Darlene on the cheek). How you guys doing? Where are we? Who are these people? This is a place for what? Somebody tell me.

You know what I’m going to do? I’m going to venture a thought that I might regret down the road. And anticipating that regret makes me, you know, hesitate. In the second of hesitation, I get a good look at the real feeling that is, this regret a kind of inner blackmail that shows me even further down the road where I would end up having to live with myself as a smaller person, a man less generous to his friends than I would care to be. So you know, we’ll have to put this through a multiprocessing here, but I was outside, I mean, for a while and what I heard in here was—I mean, it really was passion. Sure it was a squabble and anyone could have heard that, but what I heard was more. We all know—everybody knows I’m basically on a goof right now. I’m going back to my wife and kids sooner or later—I don’t hide that fact from anybody. And what I really think is that fact was crucial to the development of this whole thing because it made me what? Safe. A viable diversion from what might have been a genuine, meaningful, and to that same extent and maybe even more so—threatening—connection between you two. I’m not going to pretend that I wasn’t up for it, too. But I was never anything but above the board. You know—a couple jokes, nice dinner, that’s my style. Good wine, we gotta spend the night—and I don’t mean to be crass—because the point is maybe we have been made fools of here by our own sophistication, and what am I protecting by not saying something about it, my vanity? Ego? Who needs it? So, I’m out in the yard and I’m thinking, “Here is this terrific guy, this dynamite lady, and they are obviously, definitely hooked up on some powerful, idiosyncratic channel, so what am I doing in the middle? Am I totally off base, Eddie, or what?

Eddie: You’re—I mean, obviously you’re not TOTALLY. You know that.

Mickey: That’s exactly what I’m saying.

Eddie: I mean, from my end of it.

Mickey: For my own well-being, I don’t want to serve as the instrument of some neurotic, triangular bullshit being created here between you two. That’s the main issue for me. I mean, from my point of view.

Eddie: Right.

Darlene: I mean, I certainly haven’t felt right—I mean, good about it, that’s—

Mickey: Everything went so fast.

Darlene: Everything just happened.

Mickey: You met him, you met me.

Darlene: I met Eddie, and then Eddie, you know, introduces me to you.

Eddie: It’s too fast.

Darlene: It was fast.

Mickey: Just—What is this, the electronic age? Sure. But we’re people, not computers; the whole program cannot just be reprogrammed without some resolution of the initial, you know, thing that started everything. So I’m going to—I don’t know what—but go. Somewhere. Out. And you two can just see where it takes you. Go with the flow. I mean, you guys should see yourselves.