Leaving Las Vegas Monologues

Ben Sanderson, a Hollywood screenwriter who lost everything because of his alcoholism, arrives in Las Vegas to drink himself to death. There, he meets and forms an uneasy friendship and non-interference pact with prostitute Sera.

So, for 500 bucks, you can do pretty much whatever you want. You can fuck my ass.

You can cum on my face. Whatever you want to do. Just keep it out of my hair.

I just washed it.

Are you saying that your drinking is a way to kill yourself?

How do you feel?

That's nice talk, Ben - keep drinking. Between the 101-proof breath and the occasional bits of drool, some interesting words come out.

You go back to your hotel and I'll go back to my glamorous life of being alone. The only thing I have to come home to is a bottle of mouthwash to get the taste of cum out of my mouth. I'm tired of being alone. That's what I'm tired of.

Included with the rent 'round here is a complimentary blow-job.

With an "E". S-E-R-A. Sera.

I think the tough times are finally behind me. There'll always be bad things, but... my life is good. It is as I want it to be. It's good. It's good being here with you.

I know this really cool place in the desert. We could go away for a couple of days.

I want you to see a doctor.

And do what? Rot away in a room? We're not gonna talk about that. Fuck you, we're not gonna talk about that!

You're staying here! You could do this for me. I've given you gallons of free will around here.

You could do this one thing for me!

I have to go to work now.

I walked into the room, and he was lying on the bed. He had his arms behind his head and there was just hair everywhere. He was really, really fat. And he had a large erection. I remember he was so proud of his - large erection. And I asked him where my money was, and he pointed to the dresser. And then I asked him what he wanted and he said, "Lie down, I'm on top." He started - pounding me really hard. I remember I had to bite my tongue to keep from crying. And he did that for awhile, and then I started to get up. And he pushed me back down, and he held my hair. He was pulling it, and he stuck his penis in my mouth. I tried to get up again, and he said, "Stay there, baby, I'm gonna come on your face." So he did. Then he rubbed his semen all over my face and in my hair. And then he kicked me off the bed and he told me to leave.

You know, I bring out the best in the men who fuck me. I mean, it's not easy, but I'm very good. I mean, it's amazing. It's like I've- I've worked for a really long time and: Boom. I just turn on a dime. I can just become who they want me to be, I walk into that room, I know right away: This is their fantasy. And I become it. I'm that service, you know. I just- I perform it and I perform it well. I mean, I'm an equation most of the time, it's like 30 minutes of my body is… cost 300 dollars. Well, that's just to get into the room. And then, it's about 500 dollars after that, you know, we negotiate. But, ehm, it's a performance. It's definitely a performance.

I think the thing is, we both realized that we didn't have that much time. And I accepted him for who he was, and I didn't expect him to change, and I think he felt that for me, too. I liked his drama, and he needed me. And I loved him. I really loved him.

I don't know if I started drinking 'cause my wife left me or my wife left me 'cause I started drinking, but fuck it anyway.

We both know that I'm a drunk. And I know you are a hooker. I hope you understand that I am a person who is totally at ease with that. Which is not to say that I'm indifferent or I don't care, I do. It simple means that I trust and accept your judgment.

Are you desirable? Are you irresistible? Maybe if you drank bourbon with me, it would help. Maybe if you kissed me and I could taste the sting in your mouth it would help. If you drank bourbon with me naked. If you smelled of bourbon as you fucked me, it would help. It would increase my esteem for you. If you poured bourbon onto your naked body and said to me "drink this". If you spread your legs and you had bourbon dripping from your breasts and your pussy and said "drink here" then I could fall in love with you. Because then I would have a purpose. To clean you up and that, that would prove that I'm worth something. I'd lick you clean so that you could go away and fuck someone else.

Sera... what you don't understand is - no, see, no. You can never, never ask me to stop drinking. Do you understand?

I'll tell you, right now... I'm in love with you. But, be that as it may, i am not here to force my twisted soul into your life.

Or, killing myself is a way to drink?

Like the kling klang king of the rim ram room.

Why am I a drunk? Is that really what you wanna ask me?

Well, then, this is our first date, or our last. Until now I wasn't sure it was either.

I think when I'm done with this I'll have a gin and tonic.

I understand what you're saying. I appreciate your concern. It's not my intention to make you uncomfortable. Please, serve me today, and I'll never come in here again. If I do, you can 86 me.

Don't you think you'll get a little bored, living with a drunk?

You haven't seen the worst of it. These last few days, I've been very controlled. But, I knock things over and throw up all the time. But, right now, I feel really good. You're like some sort of antidote that mixes with the liquor and keeps me in balance. But, that won't last forever.

No. I came here to - drink myself to death. Cashed in all my money, paid my AmEx card, gonna sell the car tomorrow.

I think about - four weeks.

What's your name?

Terri, I am going to buy you a drink.

Bud, please. Buy the lady a drink and another one for you. I'm Benjamin. Ben. Benny Goodman, that's me. I think you're sexy. That's right. Look at those eyes. Sexy like a kitty cat.

You turn me on, bar-rum, you turn me on, bar-rum, you're not too long, you're not too short, you're not too round, bar-rum, you're like a cat, the cat in the hat. Look at those eyes. Honest to God. You're luminescent, baby. What?

Interesting choice of words. I don't remember. I just know that I want to.

Sera… I'm not gonna see a doctor. Perhaps now would be a good time for me to move back to a motel.

Baby, I'm ready to sign. There. Steady as a fucking rock. Excuse my French. Want to have dinner with me?

I don't care about any of that. There's time left. You can have more money. You can drink all you want. Just stay. That's what I want. I want you to - talk or listen. Just stay.

Wow. Wow. Well, that's astonishing, Sera.

Well, look I'm going to move to a real smart hotel tomorrow if it will make you feel better. Let's talk about tomorrow. Do you want to do something?

I'm not much good in the sack, Sera.

I was looking for you tonight. I don't know if you have a boyfriend, or a girlfriend; but, if you have some free time, I thought maybe we could - get some dinner.

Oh, I think you know I'm serious.

Speaking of drinks, here is yours. Down that hatch. And here's mine. Cheers. Come on. There we go. Yes? Let's do it! To it!

I really wish you'd come home with me. And you're so cute. And I'm really good in bed, too. Believe me! And you smell great. And you look great. Your hair's great. No? Okay.

Just because my feet were too big in the morning, Just because I can't remember your mother's name, Just because I put the octopus in the bed, Just because, because, because, because, Bill Cosby

I threw them out, which was perhaps immoral; but, I wanted to come to you clean, so to speak. Thought we'd go shopping. Pick out a pair of jeans and 45 pairs of underwear. Just throw one out each day.

Wow. Maybe I should follow you around and ask one of your tricks what it's like to sleep with you.

What are you? Some sort of angel visiting me from one of my drunk fantasies? How can you be so good?