It is semi-darkness. The lights are off and the phone rings. The light comes on and it is langston's home, but he is neither at his desk nor in the lounge. He appears from behind the curtain downstage right and is wearing a gown. He walks over to answer the phone, seemingly still sleepy.

LANGSTON: Hallo!

BLOKE: Hey, my American Bantu! Wake up, Bloke is blowing into town!

LANGSTON: Huh?

BLOKE: You did it, man! I’m coming to the States. AMSAC contacted me. They sent me flight confirmation and the itinerary already. I’ll be delivering a series of public lectures in various universities across the US from the beginning of March. This is great news, man!

LANGSTON: That's wonderful. Do you know where they booked your accommodation?

BLOKE: Yes, it's at the Tudor. I think it's a midtown hotel.

LANGSTON: Good, you have the option of staying with me in my house if you’d like to be my guest. Harlem is only ten minutes from the heart of town and the AMSAC office.

BLOKE: Tell you what, I won't say no to their accommodation, but I’d be staying with you most of the time. Thanks for your kind offer. I’ll only sleep at the hotel on those nights when the liver has had excessive whisky assault and I have to be speaking the following morning.

LANGSTON: Please don't forget that it's extremely cold over here, so bring your warm things. But there's plenty of heat in our house, and some spirits too.

BLOKE: Anything you want me to bring you from London?

LANGSTON: Nothing I can think of at the moment, I am just fascinated by the King Kong record. Man, I love that record. You and I will be singing ‘Chosoloza’.