Training day

One for the cat ladies

[An unprepossessing conference room; drop ceiling with fissured white tiles, grey carpet, a boat-shaped slab base conference table, on which sits a boombox, and an old-fashioned wooden podium. J.D. VANCE stands easy, or as easy as he gets, in his usual suit with no tie; standing facing him is Academy Award™ nominee and occasional Trump campaign drama coach JAMES WOODS wearing Save Khaki twill chinos, an artfully faded .38 Special t-shirt, and navy Allbirds.]

VANCE: So, I’m not sure what to do here, Jim.

WOODS: James.

VANCE: Oh. James, of course.

WOODS: I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable, it’s a boundaries thing.

VANCE: Of course, of course.

WOODS: I mean I really respect what you’re doing, you know, and I’m not trying to make you something you’re not. This is all about truth.

VANCE: Ah yes.

WOODS: They were gonna get Kellyanne Conway in here to show you how to talk to women and, I mean, I think you know what that would have been like.

VANCE: I don’t think I do.

WOODS: Well, for one thing, she’d try and get in your pants.

VANCE: Really?

WOODS: C’mon. She’s divorced, you know. Cougar on the prowl, rowrr!

VANCE: Well, I, I don’t think of her that way.

WOODS: And plus, you know what? When women try to tell a man how to talk to women? It’s bullshit. It’s like a social dancing class. Like Arthur Murray.

VANCE: I don’t know who that is.

WOODS:  They try to teach you deportment, how to approach a woman, how to take her hand, you know, move her around in a way that doesn’t make her feel threatened, that makes her want you to move her around.

VANCE: Oh. That sounds good actually.

WOODS: [Snorts] If you want to score at Roseland Ballroom, sure. But that’s not you, Senator. I’ve watched you. You’re, well, you’re certainly not a ballroom dancer.

VANCE: [Nods] Two left feet, Meemaw always said.

WOODD: What you are is a man of action, a soldier, a man’s man.

VANCE: Yeah, but for the female vote —

WOODS: Hey, forget the vote part, concentrate on the female! Let me ask you, J.D. – you mind if I call you J.D.?

VANCE: Oh, that’d be great, Jim. James.

WOODS: You’ve gotten a few ladies in the sack, right?

VANCE: Yeah, not recently though.

WOODS: What attracted them to you?

VANCE: I don’t know, I guess they were lonely and drunk.

WOODS: Don’t be shy, J.D. I know what you got going on. Right? And you know how I know?

[WOODS walks backwards, then forward, then around VANCE, with fluid, tiger-like tread.]

It’s in the way you move. You’re confident. You move like someone who’s at home there, at home anywhere he goes. Even in politics, especially in politics. You come in the room and you look around.

[WOODS hits a button on the boombox, which plays Earl Klugh’s Ocean Blue; he keeps walking.]

Now there’s energy there, but it’s a relaxed energy. Alright? And you’re in the room. You’re a man of purpose but you have time to check out the lay-deezs. Come on, walk with me, J.D., come on!

[VANCE follows WOODS around, though he more strongly resembles Elmer Fudd sneaking up on Bugs Bunny.]

Uh huh. That’s it. You’re checking out the ladies at your press conference. But! You’re not trying to please them, no, you’re appraising them. If they see you checking them out, they’re gonna be excited because it’s their lucky day, right? But you don’t have to do anything — you don’t even have to smile. In fact, don’t smile.

VANCE: Don’t smile?

WOODS: That’s right, J.D. It’s the ladies who smile for you.

[WOODS glances back at VANCE’s walk; for a second he looks as if he’ll laugh, but he presses on.]

OK, J.D., we’re pulling on up to the podium now. Pull on up to the podium and draw yourself up because you want them to look at you, to gaze upon you.

[WOODS gestures to the podium; VANCE creeps up on it, uncertainly, then stands at attention. WOODS stops the music.]

Now rub your pecs.

VANCE: What?

WOODS: Rub your pecs, J.D., run your hands over them.

[VANCE does so. He seems to relax into it.]

Feels good, right?

VANCE: Yeah.

WOODS: That’s right. That’s what every woman in this room wants to do. They know you’re an Adonis, and you know they know it. Now put your hands on your thighs. Go on.

[VANCE does so.]

Oh yeah, that’s right, yeah. You could whip it out right now and they’d all lunge for it. Don’t smile! Now, imagine them, imagine the audience. Nothing but ladies. There’s a few men there, but they’re weak, they don’t count. You’re the man. Now pick out a lady in the audience. See her? She’s stunning, a real beauty, a 10. And you can tell by the way she’s looking at you that she wants you, oh yeah, she wants you, her panties are wet for you. Don’t giggle! This is serious.

VANCE: Sorry.

WOODS: You got nothing to be sorry about, J.D., you’re the king of the world. This beautiful woman wants you. Now you’re going to say something from your speech BUT you’re going to say it to that woman like she’s the only one in the room, that woman who wants you, like she’ll do anything you say. And you’re gonna tell her what to do. Go.

[WOODS folds his arms and puts one hand over his mouth. VANCE’s face has relaxed. He actually does seems to have a bit of swagger about him. Pause. Then, in a love-man voice:]

VANCE: You better quit your job and let your husband put a baby in you, whore.

[Pause. VANCE blinks and shakes his head, as if startled. He looks worriedly at WOODS, who stands stock still.]

I just, it just, it came out. I don’t know what happened. Was it good?

[WOODS crosses to VANCE.]

WOODS: OK, let’s go to plan B. [Shouts] Hector!

[A door opens. HECTOR MARTINEZ, a Latino actor WOODS has worked with before, comes in dressed like a Danny Trejo character.]

Your next speech, Hector’s gonna attack a woman in the audience and you’re gonna beat him up.

VANCE: What?

WOODS: Don’t worry, I know a terrific fight choreographer.