lady windermere's what

Wandered into a theatre shop in Dublin this afternoon.
Uncle Scutch is talking about staging the play that dare not speak its name. So we need props.
By the way, I wrote the work, nay opus, in question several years ago.
It dare not speak its name because its name is Lady Windermere's Fanny.
The programme notes for our earlier production in June 2003, described it as: "A short satire on sex, class and body image."
Our advertising slogans at the time included these three gems:
"The thinking man's Vagina Monologues..."
"What is this world if full of care we have no time to stand and swear..."
and
"Oscar Wilde didn't write this crap..."
Ah memories. But today I'm in Dublin looking for props.
Prop really.
I need an inflatable dolphin for the greatest scene in theatrical history. The greatest piece of writing I have ever accomplished.
The greatest... (That's enough greatests. Ed note.)
It's a scene where Sir Reginald is asking Lady W to marry him.
And he says: "Cecily, I have come here with a purpose."
And she says: "Oh goody, I love dolphins."
And Reggie says: No. Not a porpoise. A purpose."
And she goes with a kind of sad refinement: "Oh."
Hilarious I know. But that's not it. The greatness of this scene is in what's not said.
For at this very moment, the doorbell rings and the butler shows in Lord George who has also come to ask Lady W to marry him.
Lord George arrives resplendant in coat and tails. He is clutching a dolphin under his arm.
The lady takes all this in and claps her hands with delight.
Yup that's the scene I'm really proud of.
Truly I'm a strange man.
Anyhoo.
Dublin. This afternoon. Me in the theatre shop.
The tired looking woman behind the counter addresses me.
"Can I help you love?"
She speaks with the rich cadences of working Dublin. Her voice contains history, poetry, culture and just a hint of what scholarly anthropologists call "if you mess with me I'll do you."
I am a little bashful about my request.
"I'm looking for an inflatable dolphin for a play," I tell her.
She favours me with a gentle smile.
"No love, sorry. We don't have any dolphins. There's not much call for those"
A thought strikes her.
"I can get you an inflatable sheep," she says brightly.
My face turns an interesting shade.
"It's for a play," I remind her. "We expressly need a dolphin."
She smiles at me beatifically.
"I know love," sez she. "That's what they all say."
And there our story ends.