Bartlett's
Familiar Quotations.
BY MARTIN BELL
- - - -
"Hi there. John Bartlett."
—John Bartlett
"Reservation should be under 'Bartlett.' Right, that's two T's. Yes. 'Bart-let-et.'"
—John Bartlett
"Yep, that was me. I'm that Bartlett."
—John Bartlett
"No, it's fine. I'm asked about this quite often, actually. So we're at this party, and Gil Fedigan—do you know Gil?—puts 20 bucks on Coriolanus for 'Brevity is the soul of wit.' I mean, can you imagine? Coriolanus! How can you be so far off and still be in the right bloody ballpark? Anyway, it should have been easy money. Everyone in the place knew it. Joanie, Gil's wife ... Harold! You were there. Harold's shaking his head, he's heard this a million times. Everyone knew I was right. But he insists on looking through both plays in their entirety, page by page, starting with Coriolanus! And I'm sitting there, and I think to myself, 'Well, my God, John, wouldn't it be fabulous if there were some easier way?'"
—John Bartlett
"Yes, I'd like another one."
—John Bartlett
"... and I said, 'Yeah, and you can "quote" me on it!' Ha, ha!"
—John Bartlett
"Ah, yes, where's your restroom?"
—John Bartlett
"Hey there, my little ... my little cowgirl. I'm Jack Bartlett. Want credit for a quotation? I don't think anyone's laid claim to your phone number yet. Nice. Just ... just one second, let me get a pen."
—John Bartlett
"That's not funny. It's not funny. Don't ask me 'what,' you know what. The little quote fingers. All the goddamn time. Everything I say. Just ... just stop. OK?"
—John Bartlett
"No, how about you please leave the premises? Huh? How about you don't make a scene? How about ... how about that? Well, fine. Fucking ... fine. Don't touch me! Don't you dare touch me! Fuck you, you fucking piece of ... of fuck. How's that for a bloody quotation? Ingrates."
—John Bartlett
"Oh, nice one, honey. Yes. Clever. That's becoming quite a familiar quotation in its own right, isn't it? Maybe I should just add it to the next edition. 'Mother was right.' Author: Mrs. Bartlett, world-renowned nag. Year: 1859. Attribution: A short play entitled Every Goddamn Weekend!"
—John Bartlett
"Right. Well, you call him and talk about it. Hey, and when you bring it up, ask him about the 'Bartlett's' on the cover. Singular possessive, mind you. Note where the apostrophe is. Ask him if he thinks you're entitled to half the royalties. Just ask him. I have my hunch, but I'm sure his legal opinion counts for a lot more. Go on, call Stanley. If you need me, I'll be in bed."
—John Bartlett
"Well, I guess if you say so / I'll have to pack my things and go."
—John Bartlett
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