O my God, she yells quietly in her head, that is John Malkovich! Yes, its John Malkovich standing in the door way…act calm, don’t make any sudden movements.
John Malkovich wonders through the tall doors of a eclectic boutique, filled with stuff everywhere. Some things are lopsided, misplaced, knocked over and even a bit dusty. Even though its untidy, he likes the look of it, its not like other shops. It feels a little hasty but genuine. If only this shop girl would get off the chair, she would notice me, he thought. But why would she, when she doesn’t even realise how messy things are. Perhaps she is busy with admin.
John stands still for a moment, looking at the girl, waiting to be greeted but she does seem very engrossed with some paper work. She must be the owner. She must be Leluu. She’s writing cheques.
Realising his motionless stature was seemingly odd, he approaches the old Victorian counter where Leluu sits. There are brightly coloured necklaces and earrings inside, displayed like sweets that he almost wants to eat them. He hovers and starts to feel himself in a swinging awkward slow motion. I am being really creepy, he startles in himself, I am definitely looking very creepy, why am I floating around like this?
John shuffles his hands into his brown leather coat jacket, digging for coins or scraps – anything in particular to ease his pain of anxiety. He doesn’t know what he wants, in fact, he doesn’t even know what he is doing inside this girl’s store.
“Hello”, greets Leluu. John jumped a bit. He didn’t expect a sound. “Good morning,” says John in a little delight. Leluu smiles at John in recognition and awe, but then continues to write out cheques.
Now that he has been acknowledged, John has finally placed himself in a shop. He moves around like a normal customer would do and looks aimlessly at all the strange and pretty things that girls would like to possess, like silky purses, long floating dresses, leather handbags, high heel shoes, lacy underwear… shit! John flares his nose like a lightning has struck over his head. Now I am really looking like a pervert. Why am I touching the lingerie?
John quickly reverts his hands back into his pockets! No, now I look like a thief! Dang!
“Err, what time do you open in the mornings” “1130” “I see… except, err, I was here at 1145 and you hadn’t opened” “I was late… sorry” “Nice shop you have here.” “Thanks John.” “Good day, Leluu,” John reaches the tip of his flat fishing cap with one hand and waves with the other, bowing to the girl. He doesn’t know if he should greet her like a solider, a westerner or an easterner. What am I doing? He panics and darts out of the door as quickly as possible across the road out of her sight. Why am I acting like a teenager? I am a grown man, forgodssake!
John Malkovich knows my name, grins Leluu and pounces to the telephone to tell her friends.