"Mildly Therapeutic, parts 1-3"

"Part 1 - Coffee"


A coffee pot on a pedestal. A man stands in front. He talks directly to the pot.

HE.
The year is 2008, I turn 28 this year. I have had other coffee pots before you. You're not even mine. You're my roommate's and he is away on business. You're nicer than my last one. That was also my roommates. You're nicer than the one I had years ago that I didn't use. When I was in college. You keep the heat better, I imagine. You look less messy, but you're more complicated, however that works.

He holds a cup.

HE.
My coffee drinking started after college. Maybe that's party of my own naivety. I have learned, since you arrived, that I like my coffee dark, strong and with a small amount of cream. And sometimes a little sweetness. These are not things I would have ever known before. When I was in the 7th grade, maybe 6th, and Danielle Bogull wanted to date Alan Roman, I think it was the first time I remember tasting it. Coffee's absence from my life until after college should clearly indicate my reaction. It was high school football game coffee, after all. Alan did not date Danielle, but later, Danielle became home to the most joyful set of breasts in my high school. Then she got trashy, and it became evident that she wasn't nearly as blessed as I have been. Or I assume that much. I saw a picture of her recently and she looked not trashy.. and Alan turned into a pothead. The likelihood that either of them would have a coffee pot quite like you is low. I bet, for one reason in their past, or another, they drink instant.

He presses a button, nothing happens.


HE.
I'd like to not have to use instant. Please understand that while I have learned a great deal from you, I just don't know quite yet how to get you to make my coffee. I have inserted the beans, put water where it belongs, emptied the grounds from when my roommate last made coffee and everything seems in place. But you won't let me make coffee. I can't find the instructions. You're plugged in. I'm already late for work. Every button I press is met with silence and the time, steadfast in your sixty seconds for every minute. I can usually figure out other coffee pots. Usually, they're simpler.

He takes out a phone. He calls someone.

HE.
Hey - it's me, again. I still can't get the coffee pot to work. Could you give me a call? I'm going to be late for work.

He hangs up.

HE.
Previous coffee pots would bend to my every whim and if they could speak might even express admiration for the aptitude for both my ability to make coffee and drink it. But not you. Not you.

He presses a button. Again, nothing happens.

HE.
Am I pressing you too hard? Does that dot by your clock denote some kind of thought process? Are you more sophisticated than I've known all along? Knowing exactly when the coffee should be made - for the best possible consumption? Or is it when you're ready to make it - when you feel it's the best time for you. I'll wait for you. I'll stand to the side and wait.

He stands to the side and waits for about ten seconds. Then his phone rings.

HE.
Hello? Hi sweetheart. How's work? Uh huh. Sure. Yeah - I'll pick up the flowers on my lunch break, and drop them off at the hall. No, no - the tuxes won't be ready until tomorrow. I'm sure it'll fit your dad fine. OK - talk to you soon. Love you.

He hangs up. He stares at the coffee pot.

HE.
I just want you to make me some coffee! That's all! It's simple! Just make it and we can both move on! I'm late for work because of you! Grind the beans, heat the water, run it through the filter and keep it warm!

Pause.

HE.
Nothing has had as much an affect on my life as you.

He presses a button. Nothing happens.

HE.
Refusal? Is that what this is? Refusal? Am I not good enough? Are my coffee tastes not refined enough for you to directly make me coffee? Well , I'm learning, alright? Aren't you? Aren't we always learning and getting better and figuring out who we are and what we like all the time? We're chiseling out childhood acceptance down to a fine point that says, this is what I am - this is what I like? Dark, strong and a little bit of cream. Unless you think you're a finished product already? You're not. You're not. We work together. I supply the beans and water - you supply the rest. We make it as a team. Please - work with me. Please.

He presses a button. Nothing happens.

HE.
You know, I always thought it odd when I was younger and my friends would order coffee. One friend in particular. When she would order coffee and I would order hot chocolate, I would think - god, are we old enough to drink that stuff? Am I just a slow developer because I don't want to drink it? I thought she was great. All the things I valued at the time. I had a thing for her too. I don't know if it was reciprocated. It may have been, but after so long of testing the waters and never jumping in - well there comes a time when you throw in the towel, so to speak. This may be that time. Maybe I just really liked hot chocolate with whipped cream.

He puts the mug down and leaves. As the lights fade the coffee grinds. The lights brighten up with this added development. The man does not return and the lights fade to black.

"Part 2 - Toothbrush"

A woman stands by a bathroom sink with a toothbrush holder on it. She holds an old toothbrush and places it in the holder, so the bristles face her. She does it gently.

SHE.
I just got back from the dentist. He says you have to be replaced. I'm sorry.

Pause.

SHE.
His assistant told me that the dentists said I brush too hard. Your bristles are too stiff for my teeth. It's brushing away the enamel and getting too close to the roots, or, whatever they're called. I'm sorry.

Pause.

SHE.
I might have a cavity, too. Which isn't necessarily because of you, but because of my mouth's genetic make up. Some people's mouths are acidic, some are basic. Mine changed over the years. He gave me a new brush that should help with that. It isn't that you didn't protect my teeth. This is just something I didn't know I needed. I guess had I known, I wouldn't have bought you in the first place. I'm -

Pause.

SHE.
Mouthwash is important, I'm told. A my teeth get older and wear down, mouthwash will help protect me at night. Gone are the days when everything was fine with just the two of us a little colgate. Sorry.

Pause.

SHE.
If you could change for me to better suit my needs, I'd want you to stay. I wouldn't replace you, like I'm now now, like it or not. I'm replacing you. I'm told keeping you would only do more harm than good. I've never had a cavity until now. The dentist found it and poked inside it. God, did it hurt. In my eyes and toes and fingertips. I need you to go. You're just no good for me anymore. My chemical makeup just isn't elastic like it once was. And you won't change.

Pause.

SHE.
You don't love me. You don't love me. You don't love me. You don't love me. You don't love me. You don't love me. You don't love me. You don't love me. You don't love me. You do not love me. You don't love me. You do not love me.

Pause.

SHE.
You're a toothbrush.

She reaches out and grabs the old toothbrush. She lays it on the sink. She pulls out a new toothbrush, still in it's packaging. She struggles to open it, a little, and puts it in the stand.

"Part 3 - Keys"

A man enters the stage. The sound of jingling keys is played through the sound system. He pulls out his pockets to show they are empty. He walks directly to the front row.

HE.
Have you found my keys? I believe I lost them here yesterday. My roommate let me in the apartment. We went out. Have you seen them? What about you? Have you seen my keyts? There's a little red monopoly house attached to them, in case you're looking at them somewhere on the floor and weren't sure they're mine. They are. Please pick them up and give them back to me.

He pulls out a Polaroid picture of them.

HE.
This is what they look like. Please - pass this around and take a look. Would the last person who gets to see the picture please return it to me immediately. I only have one picture and I have to use it for the next showing of this piece.

He returns to the stage.

HE.
Every time I come here, I take the keys out of my pocket and toss them in my "area" backstage. Here is a picture of that area. If the last person who sees this could return it to me, that would be great - but not completely necessary - I haven't lost the space and can take another picture of it.

I usually bounce them off the wall and go do a vocal warm up. Please, if you could, look quickly, this play is nearly over.

So - I toss them and bounce them off the wall, go warm up and then rehearse or perform. On nights like tonight, I perform. That is what I'm doing now. Today I didn't have my keys and since they are gone I didn't bounce anything off the wall. I didn't properly warm up and now, I don't feel that I'm performing as well as I can. And I'm sorry. I can be really fucking good. Amazing, even.

He goes to an audience member.

You! You look like you had something to say? Have you found them? Are you not sure? Was there anything else you wanted to tell me?

He waits for an answer.

HE.
Oh.. well I hope it clears up for you. Maybe you should tell your most recent sex partner.

Pause.

HE.
I'm very frustrated. I had them and they were good, but I was careless and lost them. I need keys. If I can't get them back I'll have to get a new one. Set.

Everyone. Please close your eyes. I would like you to do a focusing exercise with me. Close them Close them. Now. Close them. Now, imagine the sound of keys all around. People walking by you. Keep them closed. Do you hear the sounds & feel the people near you? I bet you can, you're really good at this. Ok, now take a deep breath in and slowly release it. Open them. Do you feel better? I do - but now I don't. Here is a picture of my current girlfriend and another of my ex girlfriend.

He passes them out.

HE.
Ok. This is the end of the play. I'm going to stand by an exit to give you a hug if you want one on your way out. Please - do me a favor and check around your seats to see if you can find my keys.

Throughout the concentration exercise, the crew and the man take a set of keys for each seat in the audience and put them by each seat. They are careful not to touch anyone. Once he walks to the exit, hopefully the audience will try to give back the keys to the Man. When they do, he will inspect them, deny that they are his, but promise to keep them in case someone else lost their keys. He will put them in a large pile of other keys returned. And he gives a hug to everyone who wants one.

"The Secret Love of Matthew Miller"

Matthew stands at an airport. People walk by. He is just getting off the phone.

MATTHEW.
Yes. Yes. Ok. See you in a few minutes.

Matthew hangs up. He puts the phone away. A limo driver with a sign saying "L Oswald" on it stands by him.

MATTHEW.
That's something.

THOMAS.
Pardon? Oh - yes. One of the more bizarre names I've had.

MATTHEW.
Oh?

THOMAS.
Last week I had S. Jackson.

MATTHEW.
Who was it?

THOMAS.
Samuel L Jackson.

MATTHEW.
Oh.

THOMAS.
Thomas.

MATTHEW.
Matthew.

THOMAS.
Matt?

MATTHEW.
Matthew.

THOMAS.
Oh, pardon my error. What do you do Matthew?

MATTHEW.
I teach.

THOMAS.
College?

MATTHEW.
Yes, actually.

THOMAS.
You seem like it. You have a big vocabulary, don't you?

MATTHEW.
I guess - for my level of education. But really, once you're in your doctoral program, all the words are unnecessarily long and complex.

THOMAS.
Ah. Is that what you're doing?

MATTHEW.
I'm getting a doctorate in communication.

Pause.

MATTHEW.
Talking.

Pause.

THOMAS.
I'm just jerking you around.

MATTHEW.
Ah ha. Wave you been a.. driver? For long?

THOMAS.
A bit over ten years.

MATTHEW.
Interesting. What led you to it.

THOMAS.
Teenage pregnancy.

MATTHEW.
Oh... what?

THOMAS.
My wife - then girlfriend - got pregnant. I dropped out of college and - hey do you smell spoiled milk?

They smell.

MATTHEW.
That's rancid - what is that?

THOMAS.
Its burning my nostrils with the angry fire of a thousand hammers of Thor banging the sun.

Pause.

MATTHEW.
I think it's gone.

THOMAS.
Disgusting.

A couple pilots walk by. They're like a water polo team.

THOMAS.
Are people with blue eyes genetically predetermined to become pilots?

MATTHEW.
How do you mean?

THOMAS.
Well, most pilots I see have blue eyes. So, I wonder if it has something to do with genetics. People with blue eyes may tend to have better eye sight, only people with good eyesight can be pilots - so blue eyed people are pilots.

MATTHEW.
So, if paper is wood, wood is apart of a living tree, then paper is alive.

Matthew takes out a piece of paper and rips it in half, screaming.

THOMAS.
Ben Franklin used to run with kites. The Kite Runner is about the Middle East. The Terrorists who destroyed the World Trade Center came from the Middle East -

MATTHEW.
Benjamin Franklin destroyed the World Trade Center.

They laugh until if becomes unfunny, if it was every funny to begin with.

THOMAS.
Who are you here to pick up?

MATTHEW.
Her name is Jeannie. She's been away for weeks.

THOMAS.
I bet you miss her.

MATTHEW.
I do.

Pause.

MATTHEW.
Cars run on gasoline. Gas comes from crude oil. Crude oil comes from compressed organic materials. Dinosaurs were organic... Dinosaurs power cars.

They laugh. The lights fade.

Standing naked.

A woman sits at her desk. She is any age between 25 and 35. She types at a computer or wastes time on the internet. The sound of a shower being turned on.


MAN offstage.
Oh god!

A man walks behind the woman. he is a little wet and nude.

WOMAN.
Cold?

MAN.
We need a better water heater. The super should know.

WOMAN.
We asked them last year and they said until it breaks, they won't do anything.

MAN.
I hate this. I need to go.

WOMAN.
Where? What are you doing?

MAN.
I meant to go down the street and get coffee.

WOMAN.
Why not just do it before the shower?

MAN.
I can't do that.

WOMAN.
Why not?

MAN.
I need to wash off the film of yesterday off my body. And I was planning on working while there.

WOMAN.
I don't understand you.

MAN.
It's gross. I feel oily and stinky.

WOMAN turning around.
Just put on som-

She sees him standing there in the nude. He stands a little awkwardly, with his hands covering his privates a little.

WOMAN.
- you hiding something?

MAN.
What? No.

He pulls his hands away and they stare at each other for a moment.

WOMAN.
Do you think the water is warm yet?

MAN.
I'll check.

He leaves.

MAN offstage.
Care to join me?

She begins typing again. He releases a scream, because the water is icy. He returns, a little more wet.

MAN.
Still cold.

WOMAN.
I see. Listen to this - we can get a flight, hotel and rental for weekend trip to Las Vegas for about three hundred.

MAN.
Each?

WOMAN.
Yes, each.

MAN.
I don't know. When would we go?

WOMAN.
January.

MAN.
Ok. Can I think about it?

WOMAN.
It probably won't last long.

MAN.
The deal?

WOMAN.
Yes.

MAN.
Oh.

She turns to look at him. He stands there looking at her.

MAN.
Do you want to get a dog?

WOMAN.
I-

MAN.
Not necessarily today or anything - but at some point in the future.

WOMAN.
If we get a dog we have to have someone sit for us while we're in Las Vegas.

MAN.
If we go to Las Vegas. You don't even like gambling.

WOMAN.
Yeah, but we can do other things. See shows.

MAN.
Prostitution is legal there.

She stares at him.

MAN.
Or we could elope.

She laughs.

WOMAN.
Right.

He mumbles, "I love you" as he walks back toward the shower.

WOMAN.
What do you need to work on?

MAN offstage.
I need to write a bit.

WOMAN.
A play?

MAN offstage.
Yeah. I have an idea about writing a play about a couple who lives together.

WOMAN.
Oh.

She turns back to the computer.

MAN offstage.
He only has one leg, but it's not about that.

There is a loud banging.

MAN offstage.
What did you say?

WOMAN.
Nothing. I think that was a neighbor telling us to quiet down.

MAN.
Oh.

He reenters.

MAN.
But the play - yeah, it's not about how he only has one leg.

WOMAN.
I heard you the first time.

MAN.
It's going to be about how their lives are missing something.

WOMAN feigning interest.
Oh.

MAN.
I really just need to sit down and plot it out. It's hard to write about conversation, with little action.

WOMAN.
Hm.

She turns around and looks at him. The stare for a minute.

WOMAN.
Water still cold?

MAN.
It's luke warm. I need it to be hot.

WOMAN.
Ah.

MAN.
If you had the choice to have one outfit to wear for the next ten years, but you had like, twenty copies of it in your closet would you do it?

WOMAN.
What? That didn't even make sense.

MAN.
Let's say you have the choice to dress as you do now, or where only one outfit, like a uniform, for the next ten years, which would you choose?

WOMAN.
I'd like to be able to wear different things.

MAN.
Me too. But I like the idea of not having to think about what I'm going to wear. I sometimes wonder if I have like, a hundred though points and each time I make a decision I use up those points. Small decisions like what to wear or what to eat are worth only a few points - but bigger ones like how much to pay on my credit card bill this month are worth much more.

WOMAN.
Huh.

MAN.
You're really pretty.

WOMAN.
Thanks.

He goes back to the shower. And returns quickly.

MAN.
It's cold again. This is ridiculous.

WOMAN.
Then call the super.

MAN.
Yeah. I don't know - I don't want to annoy him. And what if other people are using the hot water and there's nothing wrong with it.

WOMAN.
Then don't call the super.

MAN.
Next time it happens I'll call.

WOMAN.
Ok.

MAN.
Maybe I'll just heat up some water in the stove and sponge myself off in the bathroom.

WOMAN.
Sick. Don't do that. Just put some deodorant on and shower later.

MAN.
I can't do that - I need to feel clean. Or I feel out of sorts all day.

WOMAN.
Are you still naked?

MAN.
You'll have to turn around to find out.

WOMAN.
I'm not turning around.

MAN.
Then you won't find out.

WOMAN.
You are. I know you. And you are.

He shrugs and says nothing for a moment.

MAN.
Maybe we should buy a new water heater.

WOMAN.
What? Do you know how expensive those are?

MAN.
No. Are they?

WOMAN.
Yes.

MAN.
How expensive?

WOMAN.
I don't know - but I do know they are. Besides the super should take care of it.

MAN.
Would you like to help me sponge off?

WOMAN.
No.

MAN.
Ok.

He stands for a moment.

I think I'll name the characters Matt and Susie.

WOMAN.
Ok.

He leaves for the bathroom again.

MAN offstage.
Finally! It's hot now.

She turns to look. She walks to the kitchen. The turning and starting of a faucet can also be heard. The man screams.

MAN offstage.
Jesus! Fuck! Again?!

The shower is turned off. The man can be heard muttering. The woman runs back to her chair. The man, wet and toweled walks into the room with the computer with a large wrench. He stops, the towel falls off. He picks it up and wraps it around himself. He leaves. A large clanging is heard.

Lights fade.

The Very American Family Play by Pierre Pont Pierre


A diner in America. A father, a woman his age and a teenage daughter enter. They are all overweight and wear clothing that is slightly too small. The clothing fits American culture. I heart New York shirts, now stained and dirtied. Disneyland t-shirts. The father wears cowboy boots. The effect of costuming should not be to create a caricature of pop America, but more help to create a general theme of Americana tourism. Imagine a foreigner's impression of what USA is. How it would be described to friends and family back home. Mickey Mouse, Coca Cola, Nike, Baseball, Cowboys, Hard Rock Cafe.

A WAITRESS greets the family and leads them to their seats.

WAITRESS.
Welcome to Joe's. My name is Annie. Please sit at this booth.

The family sits. Their speech should be labored. The actors are Americans playing French actors playing American characters. Read that sentence again to make sure it sinks in. They do not speak with French accents by any means, but bad American accents. They overpronounce R's, have a slight "standard" southern dialect. All sentences have some stilted formality and contain no contractions or mumbling.

WAITRESS.
Can I get you all anything to drink?

GEORGE.
We will have a round of drinks, please.

DEE.
I would like to have a diet Coke, please.

MARTHA.
I will also have a diet Coke, please.

DEE.
I will have just water instead of Coke or diet Coke.

WAITRESS.
Coke, diet Coke, water. Coming right up.

GEORGE.
It is nice to be out of that rain storm.

MARTHA.
I thought it would flood the streets.

GEORGE.
I will tell you what, if it continues in this fashion we will need a boat to return to the hotel.

MARTHA laughs. DEE does not respond. They look at their menus. GEORGE reads aloud, to himself.

GEORGE.
Cheeseburger, pizza, BLT, Hamburger...

The others remain quiet.

GEORGE.
I think I will have a hamburger. What will you two have?

MARTHA.
I am thinking about having macaroni and cheese and perhaps a salad.

GEORGE.
That sounds very delicious. As a young boy I only ate macaroni and cheese when given the option. What is funny is this, my brother hated it. May he rest in peace.

MARTHA.
You have never mentioned your brother before. I am sorry he is deceased.

GEORGE.
He is not. I joke.

MARTHA.
Oh.. haha.

pause, the WAITRESS reenters.

WAITRESS.
Honey what can I serve you?

MARTHA.
I would like to eat.

GEORGE.
She will have a plate of macaroni and cheese. She (pointing at DEE) will have pizza. I will eat a hamburger, rarely done.

WAITRESS.
I will place this order for you.

WAITRESS leaves.

MARTHA.
George, Dee, look at what I have brought from the motel!

she pulls from her purse a disposable camera or an old camera.

GEORGE.
Oh! Ha-ha! A camera.

MARTHA.
Shall we take photos of ourselves?

GEORGE.
Let us just ask the waitress to take our picture.

DEE.
Father, no!

GEORGE.
It is fine. Excuse me. What was her name? I do not remember. Waitress!

The WAITRESS reenters.

Will you please take our picture?

WAITRESS.
Certainly.

GEORGE.
Great. Let us all get in close. Just press the button on the top. Actually it is a very complica-

The WAITRESS takes a picture as GEORGE reaches for the camera.

WAITRESS.
Is that correct?

GEORGE.
Yes, but I was not ready. Let us smile. Dee, hold up your menu so we can remember where we were. One, two, three.

DEE holds up the menu, the picture is taken.

GEORGE.
Now, Martha, you and Dee pose for a picture.

MARTHA tries to put her arm around DEE, but DEE avoids the arm.

MARTHA.
Smile, Dee.

GEORGE.
Alright? One... Two...

DEE.
Take the picture faster.

GEORGE.
I am going as fast as I can. One, two, three.

The WAITRESS takes a picture of MARTHA & DEE.

GEORGE.
Now me and Martha. One together and one kissing. One, two, three.

The WAITRESS takes the picture.

GEORGE.
One, two, three.

GEORGE kisses MARTHA on the cheek and the picture is taken.

GEORGE.
Now me and Dee. Dee, hold up the menu.

DEE.
Father -

GEORGE.
I am going to send this to our friends at home. You can use it for your memory books. One, two, three.

The picture is taken.

GEORGE.
Now, me and the waitress.

MARTHA (laughing).
George, no. Let us not bother her.

GEORGE.
Oh come now, she must be used to it. It is part of her job!

WAITRESS.
It is fine. I do not mind.

She hands the camera to MARTHA. She poses with GEORGE.

GEORGE.
One, two, three -

GEORGE leans over and kisses the WAITRESS on the cheek, MARTHA takes the picture and shakes her head at him as if he were a naughty boy. A bell rings.

WAITRESS.
That is likely to be your food.

WAITRESS leaves.

GEORGE.
I shall make some room for dinner.

GEORGE gets up and walks away.

MARTHA.
Dee, are there any attractions you were hoping to see while we vacation?

DEE.
No, I do not know.

MARTHA.
I was hoping to see the world's largest sun dial. Did you know that it is just a small short drive from the world's largest kachina (pronounced to sound like "vagina"). There is a lot of history here, did you know?

DEE.
No, I didn't.

There is a pause.

MARTHA.
Dee, this must be very hard for you.

DEE.
No, it is not.

MARTHA.
But I know most children would have a difficult time having four previous mothers.

DEE.
The women you speak of were step-mothers.

MARTHA.
Yes, I know. Is not a mother, a woman who cares for you and nurtures you? So if I become that for you, if this vacation goes well, I hope to be that very person for you. A mother.

A man in a business suit and briefcase enters. He uses a wireless ear piece for his phone on his upstage ear.

JIM.
Family, Jim. Family, that is who we need to market to. The families who can afford shoes. The families who have credit cards. I want you to picture a family of four with matching shoes. Not exact matches, though. A young boy has dark, bold colors, the daughter gets bright and cute shoes. The parents receive, yes, yes something sensible, verging on what they think is cool.

He speaks to the WAITRESS.

JIM.
Excuse me. One coffee, to go, please.

Jim opens his briefcase and pulls out a duffel bag. Inside the duffel bag is a tracksuit and a pair for shoes. He begins to disrobe and put his business suit in the briefcase, which will go in the duffel bag when he has changed. At the midway point of changing (i.e., with not clothes on), he should be completely nude, but at the moment of complete nudity, he steps behind a counter or some other object to censor his nakedness.

JIM.
No, not yet. I am just about to put them on now. I am telling you the truth when I say that comfort does not matter. It should look athletic, cute or comfortable. Correct. it is the idea that a family might run in them. They do not actually have to - correct. Almost. I am about to take a run in them now, but I am telling you, it does not matter. Yes, I am tying the laces. Well, it is easy. They are fine.

He puts his weight on to the shoes.

JIM.
Ok. You have a comfortable shoe, bud. What is in your soul? Can we drop it out and raise the overhead?

He should be reclothed again. He grabs his coffee, drops some coins down and heads to the door.

JIM.
Wow. Yes, they are nice. But I am telling you we can make more money if you - Yes. I am about to run now.

He sips his coffee and runs out the door. The sound of a toilet flushing. A fly zipping. A stall door opening and closing. A man humming. It stops, GEORGE reenters. He sits at the table and looks at one of his hands. He wipes it with a napkin. The WAITRESS brings the food.

GEORGE.
While I was in there I saw a little piece of graffiti. It was in very tiny writing so I had to lean forward to read it.

MARTHA.
What did it say?

GEORGE.
You are at a forty five degree angle.

MARTHA.
I do not get it.

GEORGE.
Nor do I.

DEE.
Father, can I have some money for the gift shop?

GEORGE.
Yes, Dee, you can.

He gives her ten dollars. She walks to a gift area, where the WAITRESS begins showing her some wares.

MARTHA.
George, how do you think this is going?

GEORGE.
It is only the second night of our vacation, but I think it is going well.

MARTHA.
I would very much like for Dee to like me as a friend and maybe a guardian later.

GEORGE.
It is my belief that she will. Or she will at least get used to you. My hamburger is cold. Is your food cold?

MARTHA.
I finished my food already. It had a fine temperature, though.

GEORGE.
I am sick of this - I know I am not paying much for this food, but - waitress! - but that does not mean I do not expect quality. After all, I am not the person who set the price on this food. Waitress?

The WAITRESS finishes her exchange with DEE and runs back to the table. DEE stands by the register and removes her shirt to put her new shirt on. She shows her breasts, full to the the audience. GEORGE and MARTHA don't notice.

WAITRESS.
Yes, sir. Is there something the matter with your meal?

GEORGE.
It is cold. It needs to be heated up. And it is too red. I would like a different burger and I do not think that is asking too much.

WAITRESS.
I apologize for -

GEORGE.
Yes, yes, go on and fix it.

WAITRESS.
Right away.

GEORGE.
Thank you.

DEE walks back over to the table. The shirt fits her better than the last shirt she was wearing, but it has an "offensive" statement on it. Something to the extent of "I went Carefree in Arizona and all I got was this fucking tshirt," or "Seattle does it in the rain," or it has pictures of animals having sex in different positions with "funny" names for each, or it's a shirt that shows a mostly naked female body on it.

GEORGE.
What is that?!

MARTHA.
Dee, what is on your shirt?

GEORGE.
Take that shirt off right now young lady!

DEE.
No, I like it.

GEORGE.
I did not give you that money so you could buy something like that!

DEE.
You never said I could not buy this shirt!

GEORGE.
It was assumed that you would not use those funds for anything so ill-fitting to your father's tastes.

DEE.
It was my money!

GEORGE.
No, it was my money. Now change your shirt!

DEE.
No! I like this shirt and I am going to wear it as much as I like!

GEORGE.
Take off that shirt, Dee!

MARTHA.
Maybe you should just listen to your father, Dee.

DEE.
I do not even know you. You are only here because George is here, Martha. Do not pretend to be any type of mother figure to me!

GEORGE.
Do not call her by name, nor me my own. My name is father or dad. I take care of you. I give you money to keep you clothed, fed and more!

DEE.
I have a job! I do not need your money!

GEORGE.
It is part-time. You are not ready yet for a full-time job. You are only a third year student of high school! As long as I take care of you, you must listen to the directions I give to you. What you cannot wear, where you cannot go, with whom you cannot be friends, where you cannot get money from!

DEE.
Fuck that!

GEORGE leaps and violently grabs the shirt DEE is wearing. He forcibly tries to remove the shirt.

MARTHA.
Geor- George?! What are you doing? Dee should listen, but George! George, please stop! You are hurting her!

GEORGE rips the shirt off of DEE. DEE gets a bloody nose. They stand apart. DEE staring at GEORGE. GEORGE looking at the table. They are heaving.

MARTHA.
George, she is bleeding. We should call the -

MARTHA motions toward a pay phone or exit. GEORGE firmly, but nonviolently, grabs her arm.

GEORGE.
No Martha, sit down. This is my family. I am in charge of it. You chose me. You chose to be with me. And I am in control. You chose me. You can leave - but this is still my family. So sit. This was your choice. Sit.

MARTHA sits.

DEE sits.

GEORGE sits. He looks at his menu.

GEORGE.
Hm. Apple pie. Dee? Martha? Would you like some apple pie a la mode?

The lights fade quickly.

"You _____ know ____ to _______."

The stage is set for whatever environment comes to mind when you read the word, "you."

5 people (2 women, 3 men) run across the stage screaming and waving their arms.

They run the other way.

They run center, stop, look at the audience.

They scream and run upstage, destroying whatever set exits. They scurry to whatever end of the theater they can find.

Voice.
Andy, Alan, Amy, Andrea, Albatross. Please come down stage.

All.
No!

They scatter somewhere else.

Andy.
We don't -

Amy.
want to -

Andrea.
do it!

All.
We won't!

Voice.
Andy, Alan, Amy, Andrea, Albatross. Why not?

They all look at Albotross.

Albatross. He does not speak the parantheticals.
I don't (know the) words (to this) part.

The lights change. Andy and Amy begin a new scene from where they are, but their tone is reflective of the scene they speak.

Amy.
I had a great time last night.

Andy.
Me too. You were - a lot - like - felt.

Amy.
What?

Andy.
Felt. You remind me of felt.

Amy.
Pardon? I don't comprehend. How is it that I remind you - of felt?

Andy.
I don't know - but you do. It's a feeling I have. About you. And felt.

Albatross runs to the center.

Voice.
Albatross are you ready?

Albotross.
I'm not sure - Yes. I mean yes. If I say yes and mean yes then yes, I'll be ready. I'm fine. Let's go.

Voice.
Alright. Begin.

Albatross walks offstage.

Albatross. from offstage.
And then I enter.

Andrea and Alan begin to toss something breakable between themselves.

Alan.
I toss it to you.

Andrea.
And back to you!

Alan.
For you!

Andrea.
And you!

Alan.
Play. Within a play?

Andrea.
Play within a play!

Before Andrea tosses back the breakable item, Alan begins to play jacks on the floor. She throws the item and it hits the floor. Hopefully, it breaks as well. If not, Andrea picks it up and drops it while staring at Alan, who continues to play jacks until Andrea's next line. Actually, even if it breaks, Andrea should pick up a big piece and drop it again, to break it more.

Andrea.
What the fuck? That fucking fuck shit was mine! I trusted you! I fucking gave you that to catch! What the fuck are you doing?

Alan.
I thought (he gestures to the jacks) play within a play.

Andrea.
No! Not what I meant! Not what I meant at all!

Alan.
I -

Voice.
Albatross.

Albatross. (still offstage)
Yeah?

Voice.
Now, please.

Albotross.
Ok. (he runs across the stage, and yells) Diana-the-first-time-I-laid-eyes-on-you-I-

Amy and Andrea walk on stage. Andrea slumps her shoulders and looks feeble. Amy puts a finger above her upper lip and her fist in her pants.

Amy.
I want you to fly.

Andrea.
Ok.

Andrea hops.

Amy.
Longer.

Andrea.
Alright.

Andrea jumps.

Amy.
More. Higher. Faster.

Andrea attempts to accomplish this task.

Amy.
Yeah. This isn't going to work out.

Andrea.
I'm doing my best. Flying is hard your first time.

Amy removes her hand from her pants and slaps Andrea. She puts it back.

Amy.
I'll just have someone else do it. It's fine. Cross it off the list of things I'll ask you to do for me.

pause.

Amy.
Amy stands and stares at Andrea, waiting.

Andrea.
Andrea looks at Amy, with some disbelief.

Amy.
Amy looks back at Andrea. Expectantly. She might furrow her brow. The actress should remember to keep her finger above her lip to signify a mustache and her fist in her pants to signify something else.

Andrea.
Reluctantly, Andrea takes out a notepad and pen. She opens it to a page with a list on it. The list has a series of tasks one might ask another to do. She stares at the list.

Amy.
Amy continues to watch Andrea look at the list.

Andrea.
She prolongs the moment by pretending to to scan for the word "fly."

Amy.
She struggles to remain patient, but patience wins over impatience while waiting for Andrea.

Andrea.
She flips back a page and really "looks" for the word "fly." She looks up and shrugs as if to say, "Maybe it's not here? Maybe flying isn't a task on your list of things you can ask me to do. Maybe I'm not supposed to fly."

Amy.
She says, "Oh that's it!" and takes the notepad. She says, "You can't even get that?!" She crosses things off the list of things to ask Andrea to do. The actor should make sure to cross off fly first, then cross off "cross things off that Amy says to cross off regardless of completion." And she should do it, with bravado. She then finds someone new to give the list of things she can ask him or her to do to give the list to. And she gives it to him or her. Perhaps an intern. Amy then grows old and bald and unhappy.

Andrea.
Loses a little bit of faith in humanity and supervisors.

Amy.
Loses a little bit of faith in patience and people recently out of college.

Voice.
Albotross!

Albatross.
My name is spelled two different ways in the script.

All.
He wrote it frantically on the (sound of a subway)! Then he had to (sounds of a cash register, feet walking quickly, keys, a door opening) so he could (a sigh and a flush of a toilet) only to (a bottle opening and the sound of typing). Give him a break, alright?

The lights change. Albatross stays in his place and watches. The other actors walk to preset brooms, dust pans and/or garbage cans. They proceed to clean the mess from before. They do it at a normal, unhurried pace. It might be described as methodical. It could really only be methodical if the cast did it day after day, and this play is too short to be performed that much. The actors put away their cleaning tools and stay offstage. The lights change to a full wash. They run back to the stage. They say the following as if the first to finish will win ten dollars; the next: 6; the next, 3; and the last one gets punched in the back.

Andy, Alan, Amy, Andrea.
As a child I was raised to think I was special. Apart from what I knew was bullshit. I knew I was special because I knew being told I was special was bullshit. Bullshit. I did remarkably well in some classes, poorly or just ok in others. And I had my sights on what I could be. Which is a part, but not all of what you're seeing now. I know "no" meant yes, but only if I did the puzzle right. If I begged or outwitted the no, it would change. But often I opted not to do the puzzle unless it was absolutely, absolutely, absolutely, absolutely, absolutely, absolutely, absolutely, absolutely, absolutely, absolutely necessary or I really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really wanted it and knew nobody else would feel bad if they didn't get it. Because I feel sympathy or empathy for those who lose.

They repeat the last line until all have said it together five times. They then exhale, quickly, through their mouths five times in unison and rhythm. They all fall on their backs.

Alan.
Perhaps, this thought crippled me in some ways.

Albatross.
I've met a Diana before. I don't even remember what she looks like. I'd like to pretend there was a track meet - maybe she was blond. Maybe we didn't meet. I think she lived in a trailer. That might be a different person. I don't think I'm thinking of the right person. What led to this was my childhood. As a child I -

A different voice from before interrupts him and begins reading the evening's program aloud. As Albatross tries to compete with the voice, many more voices are added and the noise gets louder. At the peak of Albatross trying to compete, the lights fade and everything stops.

Ride Share.

Two chairs next to each other. A man and a woman, in their twenties, sit next to each other.

SHE.
I'm Jane.

HE.
Roger.

SHE.
she laughs. And what's your name?

HE.
Not understanding what was funny. Roger?

SHE.
Oh. Nice to meet you.

HE.
Me too.

She pulls out a magazine. He pulls out a book. He is reading something he just picked up from an airport, or impulsively bought from the bargain bin in a bookstore. They sit quietly for a moment, look at each other when the other isn't and read.

HE.
What are you doing in town?

SHE.
Visiting family.

HE.
Oh. Me too.

pause.

SHE.
Do you have family around here?

HE.
No. We just planned to meet here since it was closest to all of us.

SHE.
Where are you from?

HE.
New York, well.. New Jersey, but I work in New York.

pause.

HE.
Are you from around here?

SHE.
Oh - no. We're from Massachusetts. My friend, well - college roommate is getting married. It sounds cliche, I know.

HE.
laughs in agreement. Still being friendly, albeit, somewhat alienating: It does.

pause.

HE.
How is your magazine?

SHE.
Oh, you know.

HE.
Is that a celebrity one? Or a health one?

SHE.
Both. Mostly movie stars and what not.

HE.
Oh. Is that what you do -

SHE.
I'd like to. What I really want - is to be an artist.

HE.
oh?

SHE.
Yeah - but not with paints or sculpture or anything like that. Well - Maybe a little.

HE.
Yeah?

SHE.
I want to make things like parties or events. I want to create an overall something that will be called art. I want people to have the overall experience, but I want sculptures to be there. And paintings and music. And theater or performance.

HE.
You studied all this in school?

SHE.
I was a business major -

HE.
-oh-

SHE.
but that doesn't mean I can't do those things - it means I'm coming from a fresh perspective - like.. I .. I have never been to Rome - but I've seen commercials and advertisements for the TV show. What if I created a performance based on that? Without any preconceived notions on how Rome should be.

HE.
so - historical fiction?

SHE.
Yes - no. Reality fiction.. nonfiction.

HE.
Reality ff-

SHE.
Reality fiction nonfiction. It's based on something that is or was real - so it's reality; it's not what actually happened, so it's fiction; but it's nonfiction in that it's not about what happened so much as what's happening in the moment. The art is my collected experiences of what has been presented to me by our culture on Rome. Or whatever.

HE.
So would you do research?

SHE.
No. That goes against what I'm doing. No research, it's what about what I know, right now.

HE.
So you're ignorance on a subject prop-

SHE.
Will let me be free to create - share new perspectives - like - did you know Romans used gliders during wartime?

HE.
Really?

SHE.
I don't know! Maybe? Even if they didn't, imagine what kinds of questions presenting that would bring up.

HE.
Wow. That's really - interesting. The most creative I get is figuring out how to be a little thrifty here and there. I went to the store on my lunch break the other day and spent the whole hour trying to spend as little as possible. It was like a challenge to myself, to see how well I could do.

SHE.
And?

HE.
I spent three dollars, one stick of deodorant and two small notebooks. Each was ninety nine cents.

SHE.
Ninety nine cents on deodorant - it probably doesn't work very well.

HE.
Well - it had similar ingredients to one of the more expensive brands. It does work, I think. Well - you tell me, does it?

He begins to lift his arm - she pulls away, grimacing - he stops.

HE.
- I think it does, at least.

SHE.
And the notebooks? How are those?

HE.
They are great. One is for balancing my checkbook and cash - it has the spiral at the top and the other is for writing down my math ideas.

SHE.
Math ideas?

HE.
Ideas about how I can apply my interest in mathematics to every day life situations. And show stuff about people through it - there are a few of them written already -

He pulls out a notebook from his back pocket, the spiral is on the side. On the front it has a number sign. He flips it open.

HE.
There's one about going to live music concerts when you're under 18 as a way to get more time for necking and spend less money than a date to the movies, another about train times, OH and one I have called BM-NYC.

SHE.
BM-NYC?

HE.
Let's say the average New Yorker, who takes the subway to work has to walk up about 30 stairs a day. Now, when you go up stairs on a busy day - you can't help but have someone's - um - in your - face. Their... backside.

SHE.
Ok.

HE.
And most full-time employed New Yorkers take the subway during high-traffic hours, right?

SHE.
I've never been, I don't know.

HE.
So - the average subway traveling full time employed New Yorker walks up about thirty stairs every day, or, one hundred fifty in a five day workweek with someones - uh

At the same time, overlapping.

HE.
Backside.

SHE.
Ass.

HE.
- in his or her face approximately fifty weeks a year.

SHE.
Aren't there fifty four weeks?

HE.
Well - no, there are fifty-two, but after accounting for one week of vacation and other holidays, aside from it being easier to explain with round numbers, we can say fifty.

SHE.
What do you do?

HE.
Data entry - So that's seven thousand five hundred steps a year with your face in close proximity with a stranger's backside. Time wise, if it takes three fourths of a second to take each step -

SHE.
Three fourths?

HE.
Point seven five, or seventy five hundredths. If that's how long each step takes - then each year that New Yorker spends about five thousand six hundred twenty five seconds or approximately ninety four minutes looking directly at the business end of stranger.

SHE.
The film Thumbsucker is that long.

HE.
innocently, as if he's surprised.
Is it?

SHE.
Your story reminded me of it.

HE.
Oh. Good. Do you like movies?

SHE.
I do.

HE.
Do you get to go out and see movies at the theater often?

SHE.
I do. But not often - usually when I go it's because they're showing an indie film or something. The big theaters near me get them every couple of months.

HE.
Like what have you gone to see?

SHE.
Do you know film well?

HE.
I - thought I did, but now you're making me doubt myself.

SHE.
So you do? Or you don't? I don't understand.

HE.
I do.

SHE.
Ok.. so I love P.T. Anderson, Wes Anderson and Mitchell Gondry. Do you?

HE.
I've heard of them - but to be honest - when I go to the movies, I rarely pay attention to the credits. I'm sorry.

SHE.
You said you knew movies.

HE.
I know movies and titles and plots, but just not the people involved in them -the writers? Is that what those people do?

SHE.
Well - sort of. They sort of make their own movies, based from their own ideas a lot. So they're the writers, directors and producers.

HE.
So they're in charge of the whole -

SHE.
Yeah. Pretty much.

HE.
Huh. I can not even think of a time when I have stayed for the credits for any longer than it took to get to the stairs and go to the restroom.

SHE.
I always sit through the credits.

HE.
..Huh. Maybe I'll have to start.

SHE.
You should - you know, all those people work incredibly hard to make those films on a small budget. You can at least pay them some respects by waiting until the whole thing is over.

HE.
I guess so.

SHE.
Without them, the movie wouldn't even exist. And even though they're not there to see you sitting there, reading their names -there's still something wonderful to know that all across the country, people are sitting, reading the names and paying some tribute to the people who worked hard on those films.

HE.
I see your point. More people should do that.

pause. She looks in her magazine.

SHE.
Ugh. Can you believe this? It's like she doesn't even care her nipple is showing.

He looks over. He nods. He contemplates for a moment.

HE.
Did you know in New York City it is completely legal for a woman to walk around topless?

SHE.
What?

HE.
Yes. I-I've never seen it, or really looked for it - but right now, if we were in New York and wanted to - you could take off your shirt, and bra? If you're wearing a - I haven't tried to look - uh - no one would arrest you. If you wanted to be topless. I guess you could do that anywhere. Like a tree falling in the woods, right? He waits a moment for a reaction to his half-joke, half-flirting. I'm just kidding. I mean, it's legal - but like what I was implying by saying it. It was a joke. I'm not expecting - or asking - you to. Take off your shirt.

She smiles meekly at him.

HE.
Have you ever been on television?

SHE.
Once - my high school was flooded and they thought it was a senior prank, so they interviewed me for the news.

HE.
Was it?

SHE.
I don't know, I was only a junior then. They thought I was a senior.

HE.
Oh! What did you say?

SHE.
That I didn't know.

HE.
I had a similar experience in high school. I worked for a grocery store - where I started in the dairy department but was then moved to grocery bagging up front. I think it was because a security camera caught me with my hand in my pants - it wasn't what you're thinking - I wasn't - doing anything! I was doing that because it seemed like something someone would do.

SHE.
Who?

HE.
I don't know -it's my impression of something someone might do at some point. And I thought I would do it, too.

SHE.
But no one in particular?

HE.
I don't know - maybe not. It was just to experience being that person who does that. Maybe nobody would do that, but I was sixteen and thought at the time someone might.

SHE.
How is that like my story?

HE.
Sorry - it's not. But the part that is was on my seventeenth birthday. For it the managers gave me a card.

SHE.
Uh huh.

HE.
And a scratch off lottery ticket.

pause.

SHE.
Ok...?

HE.
They thought I was eighteen. I was only seventeen.

She.
Oh. She forces a chuckle.

HE.
I've never been on TV.

She closes her magazine and stairs out for a few moments.

SHE.
Have you ever thought that if the aliens ever come to Earth, or Martians or whatever - that they could so easily recreate every bit of humanity through film?

HE.
No?

SHE.
Since the invention of the camera, we have basically documented everything. From the news, films, home movies-

HE.
Porn. I mean - the human body is well-documented in pornography.

SHE.
not dismissive or condescending.
Right - yeah. I'd like to do a show about that. I take the footage taken for every street in some random city in America and loop them all together to have on long video of the whole place. And maybe set it in the future and past at the same time.

HE.
I like your ideas, they are very creative.

SHE.
Thank you - I spend a lot of time thinking about the art I'd like to create.

HE.
Me too - I mean, about the things I personally would like to accomplish.

SHE.
And what are those - what does Roger want to accomplish?

HE.
Well, I would like to make more money -

SHE.
You and every one else.

HE.
And I would like to make more friends -

SHE.
That's not always as great as it sounds.

HE.
And I would like to go on more dates.

SHE.
You and me both.

HE.
And not just one-time dates. Dates where I can get to know someone - like in a movie. Where we share things.

SHE.
You read my mind.

HE.
And maybe be more romantic.

She nods, looks out. He opens his book to a random page, picks a sentence and reads it aloud.

HE.
And I'd like to take you to dinner - while we're both in town.

SHE.
What?

HE.
Dinner. Let me take you to dinner. And maybe a movie, if anything is playing.

SHE.
Roger -

HE.
-Jane. I think we have a lot in common and nothing could be more enjoyable than continuing this conversation over dinner. Just a simple date with someone interesting. No strings attached. I won't even ask for your email or phone number.

SHE.
Roger - I can't. I'm with someone. At home.

HE.
A boyfriend?

SHE.
Actually - I'm married. I got married younger than most do. I'm sorry.

She shows him the ring that has been on her finger the whole time. He nods and smiles. Pleasant. He opens his book and begins reading it again. She watches him for a moment, then looks back out. The stage is black.