Written by Joe Janes
3 of 365
PETE – 50’s, a little heavy
CHANCE – 60’s
JED – late 20’s
(Lights up on Pete’s Auto Shop. Jeri is downstage left fixing a truck tire. Chance works under a car up on a hydraulic lift. Pete enters.)
PETEStill not here?
JERIStill not here.
PETEThat prick is fired.
CHANCEWait and see what’s going on, Pete. You don’t know. Could’ve been an accident.
PETEIt’s usually an accident when that asshole shows up on time.
JEDGuess what motherfuckers? I just won the lottery.
CHANCEThat’s great, Jed. Congratulations.
JEDFate and the Nebraska State Lottery have shined their light on my numbers.
JERIYou are one lucky son of a bitch, Jed.
JEDThank you, Jeri.
PETEHe ain’t lucky.
JEDWhat do you mean I ain’t lucky? You got shit in your ears?
CHANCEYou ain’t lucky. Look, you play the lottery every day, right? Same numbers, right? If I flip a coin and keep flipping it till it comes up heads, am I lucky? Or just persistent.
PETEAnd the fact that it did come up heads ain’t luck. It’s an accident. You are an accident. Fate had nothing to do with it. The only thing you have to feel lucky about is that I haven’t fired you yet.
JEDJust can’t be happy for someone, can you, Pete? I won and it eats you up.
PETEYou won. La-di-fucking-da. That Miata needs a new converter. It ain’t gonna fix itself. Get on it.
JEDPete. Read my lips. I’m rich.
PETESo, what, you want me to treat you like the queen and get you a cup of tea?
JEDNo, Pete. I want a cup of respect. I just got me more money than I have ever had in my life. It’s called “fuck you” money.
CHANCEWhat’s “fuck you” money?
JEDWell, Chance, “fuck you” money is when you have so much dough, someone tells you to do something, you don’t care, you don’t need the money, so…fuck you.
JERII get it.
JEDPete, ask me to work on the Miata, again.
PETEI don’t think-
JEDFuck you! That’s what I think about working on that Miata.
PETEThen why are you here, Jed?
JEDBecause I wanted to tell you to your face, Pete, that you can spread your ass cheeks and shove this job up your exhaust pipe. I have worked in this stink hole since I dropped out of high school. I got oil and grease everywhere. Wedged up in my fingernails, all over the towels of my mom’s bathroom, all over my clothes even after I clean them. We work long hours; it’s either a meat locker or a sauna in here, sometimes both in one day. I’m always standing or squatting. I’m sick of standing or squatting. I want to lie down for a while. I want to trade in this fifteen pounds of alabaster beer gut for sipping some mojitos on a beach somewhere. Watch the sun go down over the ocean for the rest of my life. I want out of here. Anything’s better than staying here and smelling this nauseating swirl of gasoline, oil, Aqua Velva (indicates Chance), cat pee (indicates Jeri) and ass (Pete).
PETEFine, Jed. Congratulations. Get your tools and hit the road. Enjoy picking the sand out of your crack
(Pete starts to walk off)
JEDI will. I won’t, but I will. I’m going straight from here to the bank to deposit my $20,000 check.
JEDThat’s right, motherfuckers. 20,000 summolliyas.
JERIIs that what they’re paying you a month, Jed?
JEDA month? No. I won $20,000. One steamy lump sum.
CHANCEThat’s really not very much, Jed.
JEDI won the lottery. You’re just jealous.
PETEDo the math, genius.
JEDI know how to count to 20,000.
PETEOnce you pay the taxes on it, we’re talking maybe 13,000.
JERIThat’s only half of what you make here in a year.
CHANCESix months and you’ll be looking for a job, again.
PETELess than that because I’ll tell you exactly what you are going to do with it. Instead of investing it in a retirement fund, which you won’t cuz you think it’s so far away you’ll be for real rich or dead by the time you get there, you’re going to buy yourself an X-Box and a big flat screen TV with surround sound, then you’ll probably pick up an iPod and computer that’s more tricked out than you’ll ever need, maybe then you’ll buy that electric guitar and amp you’ve always wanted and it will be sweet and go to waste because you’ll never learn to play it. And then if, IF, there’s any money left, you’ll invest it in tittie bars and beer. “I’m rich.” Fucktard.
(Pete exits. Jed starts putting on coveralls.)
JERIAren’t you going to the bank?
JEDIt can wait. That Miata’s not going to fix itself.
(They all work in silence for a moment)
CHANCEHey, Jed. You’re still more rich than me.
JERIMe, too. (pause) Do I really smell like cat pee?
(Chance and Jed slowly nod. Everyone continues working. Lights fade)