Week 42, Day 290 - "Social Issues I & II"

“Social Issues I & II”

Written by Joe Janes

11/4/09

290 of 365

CAST:

Steve, 50s

Alan, 30s

(Lights up on Steve standing near two chairs that face one another, but are comfortably spaced. He is writing in a note pad. Alan walks in.)

ALAN

Dr. Morgan?

STEVE

Alan, come on in. Nice to meet you. Call me Steve. Have a seat. (Steve takes a seat. Alan remains standing.) I’m just finishing up a few notes. Now, you mentioned over the phone that you’re having problems with intimacy.

(Alan takes the remaining chair and moves it as far as possible into the upstage right corner of the stage and has a seat.)

ALAN

Yes.

(Blackout)

PART II

(Lights up on Alan sitting in a chair center stage in profile. Steve is straddling him and has his face nose-to-nose with Alan’s face.)

STEVE

I think we’ve made tremendous progress in a short period of time, don’t you, Alan?

(Alan takes a dollar bill and slips it into Steve belt.)

STEVE (continuing)

Please stop paying me in singles.

(Blackout)

Week 42, Day 289 - "This Will Be Our Year"

“This Will Be Our Year”

Written by Joe Janes

11/3/09

289 of 365

CAST

Ronald, 50s

Charlotte, 50s

Sissy, 20s

Conrad, 40s

Ron-Ron, late teens

Aunt Hazel, 70s

(Lights up on the whole family sitting down to dinner. Fairly normal looking family, except Conrad has many visible tattoos and piercings.)

CHARLOTTE

Here we go, everyone. My famous pot roast. Sissy helped me with it, Conrad.

SISSY

Mom.

CONRAD

It smells wonderful, Mrs. Teaberry.

CHARLOTTE

Mrs. Teaberry? Who’s that? My mom? Call me Charlotte.

CONRAD

Okay. Charlotte.

RONALD

May as well call us by our first names. Your closer to us in age than you are to our daughter’s.

SISSY

Dad.

RONALD

Call me “Ronald.” Just being friendly, Sissy.

RON-RON

Can I go over to Marcus’s and look at his grandpa’s stool sample?

CHARLOTTE

No, Ron-Ron. Sit and eat your dinner. We don’t all get together very often.

AUNT HAZEL (bitterly)

And I’ll be dead soon. Enjoy me while you can.

RON-RON (hesitantly)

Okay.

RONALD

You’re not dying, Aunt Hazel.

AUNT HAZEL

The hell I’m not.

CHARLOTTE

Technically, we’re all dying. Aren’t we, really?

RON-RON

Me, too?

CHARLOTTE

Not as much as the rest of us.

RON-RON

But I want to die, too.

RONALD

Keep pushing it and we’ll make sure that happens, young man.

AUNT HAZEL

Who’s the freak show?

SISSY

Aunt Hazel!

CONRAD

It’s okay, hon’. I’m Conrad. Sissy’s boyfriend.

AUNT HAZEL

Ain’t that just fucking wonderful.

CHARLOTTE

Aunt Hazel! Language!

AUNT HAZEL

Wear a condom. You don’t want your babies to have prince alberts.

RON-RON

Can I get a prince albert?

RONALD

Not till your old enough to pay for one yourself. Now, no more talk of penile piercings at the dinner table. It makes me uncomfortable.

CHARLOTTE

Everyone enjoy the pot roast.

RONALD

Good idea. (They all eat a few moments in silence. Ronald stands.)

CHARLOTTE

Dear…

SISSY

Oh, no…

RONALD

I just want to say something. This is the first time in a long time our whole family has sat down at the dinner table to share a meal. We don’t even seem to be able to pull this off during the holidays. Yet, hear we are. No special occasion. And joined by my little girl’s latest beau who was probably having sex a good five years before she was born. But, love is blind, right? You never know. Maybe this is the one. Time will tell. We thought Chuck was the one. Age-appropriate, college educated, decent job with potential. But Sissy thought he was boring. A year and a divorce later, she’s back living under our roof. Which is nice. We’re all here. Even though we had to move Aunt Hazel from Sissy’s old room to the attic, she seems capable of taking those stairs. If she had married and had children, perhaps they would have been able to take care of her. But, no. She thought all she needed was her twenty-seven cats, until the health department kicked her out of her studio apartment. Here she is with us. Family. And, fortunately, cat-less.

AUNT HAZEL

You and Charlotte found them all good homes.

RONALD

We sure did. They are all in a better place. Ron-Ron is failing all his classes and taking every medicine we can shove down his throat. I think he’ll be blessing us with his presence until his mid-to-late thirties.

RON-RON

My acne’s cleared up.

CHARLOTTE

It has. You look so handsome.

RON-RON

And I don’t want to drink gasoline as much as I used to.

RONALD

All good news. Charlotte lost her job at the nursing home after being falsely accused of sexually molesting the patients.

CHARLOTTE

It was sponge bath.

RONALD

I work. I work. And I work. On the weekends, I yell at everyone here. And then Monday, I go back to work. Been at the same salary for eight years. Times have been tough. We have all hit our bumps in the road. But you know, what. We’re family. Even you, Conrad. We’re family. And this coming year will be our year. Things will turn around. I’ll get a raise, maybe a promotion. Charlotte will get a new job, one not involving scrubbing male genitalia. Aunt Hazel will…chill out. Sissy and Conrad will find happiness and start building a future together. Ron-Ron will discover some hidden artistic talent and we’ll all discover the genius we all hoped he could be. Yes. This will be our year. I declare it. It is hereby declared. Make it so.

(He sits. They all resume eating.)

CHARLOTTE

That was lovely.

SISSY

Thanks, Dad.

CONRAD

Really makes me think, Ronald. Thanks.

RON-RON

I’ll try harder in school, I promise. I’ll start in on my homework right after dinner.

RONALD

And I’ll help you.

AUNT HAZEL

We truly are a family.

(They go back to eating. Aunt Hazel chokes on something and spits something out and holds it up.)

RONALD

What is it, Aunt Hazel?

AUNT HAZEL

A cat whisker!

(Ronald and Charlotte try to hide their guilt as everyone else starts to gag. Black out.)

Week 42, Day 288 - "911"

“911”

Written by Joe Janes

11/2/09

288 of 365

CAST:

Leona, 40s

Raymond, 40s

(Lights up on Leona at night. She has come out of a bar and looks disheveled. She appears drunk. She fishes her keys out of her purse. She approaches her car and drops the keys. With great effort, she manages to pick them up without toppling over. She sorts through the keys looking for the car key. She finds it. She uses all her power to focus and aim the key to the car door lock. She gets it on the third try. She turns the key and the door swings open. She manages to whip her body into the car seat and closes the door behind her. Success! She goes to put the key in the ignition, but can’t find it. She checks the seat and the floor. Nothing. She rolls down the window and finds the keys still in the lock. She gets them and puts the key in the ignition. She’s about to turn the key and changes her mind. She takes a deep breath. She fishes her cell phone out of her purse and dials 911. Lights come up on the other side of the stage on Raymond at his station in the emergency call center.)

RAYMOND

911, what is your emergency?

LEONA

I’d like to report a drunk driver?

RAYMOND

Okay. Are you currently in your car?

LEONA

Yes.

RAYMOND

Are you driving behind them?

LEONA

No. I am them.

RAYMOND

You’re the drunk driver?

LEONA

Yes. But I’m not driven yet.

RAYMOND

But you have been drinking?

LEONA

My husband is an asshole!

RAYMOND

Leona, don’t call me at work.

LEONA

‘kay, bye.

(Leona passes out on the steering wheel. Blackout.)

Week 41, Day 287 - "Procrastination"

“Procrastination”

Written by Joe Janes

11/1/09

287 of 365

Cast:

Kyle, 20s

Ted, 40s

(Lights up on Kyle, sitting at his desk doing nothing. Ted enters with papers.)

TED

Here’s that spreadsheet, Kyle. I need it on my desk by 5pm.

KYLE

You’ve got it.

(Kyle takes the spreadsheet and sets it on his desk and continues to do nothing. Ted walks away, but turns before he exits.)

TED

Everything okay, Kyle?

KYLE

Oh, just fine, Ted. Thank you for asking.

(Pause)

TED

I mentioned I needed that spreadsheet by 5 o’clock, didn’t I?

KYLE

Just like you always do.

TED

Then maybe you could start working on it.

KYLE

Well, I would, but I figured something out.

TED

What’s that?

KYLE

Normally, here’s what I would do. You hand me a spreadsheet to work on and I would immediately start to work. After about fifteen minutes, I’d think, “Gee, I’d be a lot sharper on this spreadsheet if I had a cup of joe.” So, I go to the break room and get a cup. Then, I see the newspapers in there and figure, gotta keep up on what’s happening in the world. Clearly, the company wants me to keep up on the news, or they wouldn’t subscribe to these rags and leave them here. They’re not just for coupons. Although, I do also look through them for coupons. And there are three papers, The Wall Street Journal, The New York Times and USA Today. By the time I slug my through them all, it’s time for another cup of coffee. I hate old coffee, so I brew a fresh pot and go around and let everyone on the floor know I’m making a fresh pot because I can’t drink it all myself. When I come back, the coffee’s done. I pour myself another cup and head back to the desk. I pass Cassie’s desk on the way and check in with her to see how her dad’s doing. His health is, you know. I want to show my concern because she wears low-cut blouses. When I get back to my desk, I review what I’ve done so far on the spreadsheet. Then it’s time for lunch. I take an early lunch to avoid lines in the cafeteria. The IT guys do that, too. Lunch usually takes me about an hour and half because we talk Everquest and Second Life. They give me great tips. After lunch, I come back here, check my voice-mail, e-mail, mail-mail, Facebook and Twitter – next thing you know, it’s four o’clock and I haven’t even called my wife yet to see how she’s doing and what our plans are for dinner. I review what I did on the spreadsheet, get a little more work done, and the next thing you know, nature calls and it’s time to go camping. I go back to the break room and grab the crossword puzzle from USA Today, which, on three days out of the week, is surprisingly difficult. Eventually, I make it back to my desk sometime before 5pm, look at the spreadsheet, again, and then call you and tell you there’s no way I can get this thing done by 5pm. I mean, I could, but I’d rush it and it wouldn’t meet company standards and you wouldn’t want that. So, I tell you I’ll come in early tomorrow to get a leg up on it and have it on your desk by 9am. I mean, really, what’s it matter if you get it at 5pm today or 9am tomorrow? After you reluctantly agree, I check my e-mail, again and go home. Now, you know and I know there’s no way in hell I’m going to be in here before 9am. I don’t even roll out of bed until 8. I’ll rush in around 9:30am mumbling about the horrible traffic then I’d hunker down, work on that spreadsheet and get it on your desk around 10:30am.

TED

Wow. That is what you usually do.

KYLE

I know. Wild, isn’t it? So, I’m trying to be more efficient by telling you exactly what’s going to happen instead of pretending.

TED

How is that more efficient?

KYLE

Well, I’m not expending any energy lying to you or myself. So, I’ll tell you right now, you’ll get this tomorrow by 10:30am.

TED

How much actual time to you think you take working on the spreadsheet?

KYLE

Total?

TED

All in all, 45 minutes.

KYLE

Tell you what, then. I don’t need that spreadsheet by 5pm. I need it in 45 minutes. Okay?

TED

Sure. Sure thing.

(Ted exits as Kyle gets to work on the spreadsheet. Before Ted exits, Kyle mutters under his breath…)

TED (continuing)

Slave driver.

(Blackout)

Week 41, Day 286 - "Hotel Room"

“Hotel Room”

Written by Joe Janes

10/31/09

286 of 365

Cast:

Lorelei, 20s

Stu, 30s

(Lights up on Lorelei sitting on the edge of the bed in a small hotel room. Two packed suitcases are near the foot of the bed. One is a man’s satchel and the other is a simple case likely belonging to her. A fancy lady’s hat sits on the tall dresser. Her shoes lie unsettled on the floor. Her dress is draped across a chair. She is in a shoulderless or spaghetti-strapped red teddy. She is holding a creased letter open and lengthwise. The phone rings. And it rings. And it rings. And it stops. Silence. Lorelei stands. Looks around the room. She isn’t sure which way she needs to go. She sits back down. There is a knock at the door.)

LOREILI

John?

STU (through the door)

It’s the day manager, ma’am.

LOREILI

Oh.

(Pause)

STU (through door)

Could you open the door, please, ma’am?

LOREILI

I’m not a ma’am. Please stop calling me that.

STU (through door)

Sorry…miss.

LOREILI

I have a name and it’s Lorelei. Lorelei Candini. I’m from Ohio.

STU (through door)

Miss Candini? Can I come in?

LOREILI

No, you may not come in. I am not decent.

STU (through door)

Mr. Stover would like his satchel.

LOREILI

What?

STU (through door)

Mr. Stover, the man who leased this room, would like me to retrieve his satchel. (Lorelei picks up the satchel) If you don’t mind, you could just pass it through the door. Won’t take a moment. And I promise to shut my eyes.

(She opens the satchel and pulls out a stethoscope and a bottle of pills.)

LOREILI

If he wants it, he can come get it himself.

STU (through door)

I don’t think he can. He’s not here in person. He sent a messenger.

(She puts the stethoscope back, but keeps the pills. She rattles the bottle and listens to it.)

LOREILI

Does the messenger have a message for me?

STU (through the door)

Just that Mr. Stover would like his satchel. And that he’s here to get it for him. (Pause) So, can I get-

(She opens the door. She stands there hold the satchel. Stu looks at her wide-eyed and surprised. She throws the satchel to him.)

LOREILI

Here.

STU

Thank you.

LOREILI

His name’s not Stover. And he’s not a mister he’s a doctor.

STU

I will take that into account.

LOREILI

Is there anything else?

STU

I can’t think of anything. No. Yes. The room. Will you be staying? You only have it until 11.

LOREILI

Where am I going to go?

STU

I don’t know.

LOREILI

I don’t know, either. I moved out of the boarding house yesterday. I quit my job at the cinema last week. Mel liked me, though. He’d hire me back, wouldn’t he?

STU

I see absolutely no reason why not.

LOREILI

I can’t go back to Ohio. I can’t. I just can’t.

STU

I know. I’m from Toledo.

(She nods. She becomes aware that Stu is staring at her body. Embarrassed, she folds her arms in front of her. Stu clamps his hand over his eyes.)

STU (continuing)

I am so sorry.

(She quickly shuts the door.)

STU (continuing, through the door)

Miss Candini, you have the room until 11. But if you want to stay, you’ll have to come down to the front desk and re-register. The room’s in Mr. Stover’s name and he checked out. And you need to pay in advance for however long you want to stay. Okay? Did you hear me?

(She looks at the pills.)

LOREILI

I heard you.

STU (through door)

Okay, then. I’m going to give this bag to the messenger. If you need anything else, call down to the front desk. My name is Stuart, but it’s all right to call me Stu.

(Pause)

LOREILI

Are you still there, Stu?

STU (through door)

Yes.

(She nods to herself. Then shakes her head. Puts the pills on the dresser. She stands there for a moment. Lights fade.)

Week 41, Day 286 - "Hotel Room"

“Hotel Room”

Written by Joe Janes

10/31/09

286 of 365

Cast:

Lorelei, 20s

Stu, 30s

(Lights up on Lorelei sitting on the edge of the bed in a small hotel room. Two packed suitcases are near the foot of the bed. One is a man’s satchel and the other is a simple case likely belonging to her. A fancy lady’s hat sits on the tall dresser. Her shoes lie unsettled on the floor. Her dress is draped across a chair. She is in a shoulderless or spaghetti-strapped red teddy. She is holding a creased letter open and lengthwise. The phone rings. And it rings. And it rings. And it stops. Silence. Lorelei stands. Looks around the room. She isn’t sure which way she needs to go. She sits back down. There is a knock at the door.)

LOREILI

John?

STU (through the door)

It’s the day manager, ma’am.

LOREILI

Oh.

(Pause)

STU (through door)

Could you open the door, please, ma’am?

LOREILI

I’m not a ma’am. Please stop calling me that.

STU (through door)

Sorry…miss.

LOREILI

I have a name and it’s Lorelei. Lorelei Candini. I’m from Ohio.

STU (through door)

Miss Candini? Can I come in?

LOREILI

No, you may not come in. I am not decent.

STU (through door)

Mr. Stover would like his satchel.

LOREILI

What?

STU (through door)

Mr. Stover, the man who leased this room, would like me to retrieve his satchel. (Lorelei picks up the satchel) If you don’t mind, you could just pass it through the door. Won’t take a moment. And I promise to shut my eyes.

(She opens the satchel and pulls out a stethoscope and a bottle of pills.)

LOREILI

If he wants it, he can come get it himself.

STU (through door)

I don’t think he can. He’s not here in person. He sent a messenger.

(She puts the stethoscope back, but keeps the pills. She rattles the bottle and listens to it.)

LOREILI

Does the messenger have a message for me?

STU (through the door)

Just that Mr. Stover would like his satchel. And that he’s here to get it for him. (Pause) So, can I get-

(She opens the door. She stands there hold the satchel. Stu looks at her wide-eyed and surprised. She throws the satchel to him.)

LOREILI

Here.

STU

Thank you.

LOREILI

His name’s not Stover. And he’s not a mister he’s a doctor.

STU

I will take that into account.

LOREILI

Is there anything else?

STU

I can’t think of anything. No. Yes. The room. Will you be staying? You only have it until 11.

LOREILI

Where am I going to go?

STU

I don’t know.

LOREILI

I don’t know, either. I moved out of the boarding house yesterday. I quit my job at the cinema last week. Mel liked me, though. He’d hire me back, wouldn’t he?

STU

I see absolutely no reason why not.

LOREILI

I can’t go back to Ohio. I can’t. I just can’t.

STU

I know. I’m from Toledo.

(She nods. She becomes aware that Stu is staring at her body. Embarrassed, she folds her arms in front of her. Stu clamps his hand over his eyes.)

STU (continuing)

I am so sorry.

(She quickly shuts the door.)

STU (continuing, through the door)

Miss Candini, you have the room until 11. But if you want to stay, you’ll have to come down to the front desk and re-register. The room’s in Mr. Stover’s name and he checked out. And you need to pay in advance for however long you want to stay. Okay? Did you hear me?

(She looks at the pills.)

LOREILI

I heard you.

STU (through door)

Okay, then. I’m going to give this bag to the messenger. If you need anything else, call down to the front desk. My name is Stuart, but it’s all right to call me Stu.

(Pause)

LOREILI

Are you still there, Stu?

STU (through door)

Yes.

(She nods to herself. Then shakes her head. Puts the pills on the dresser. She stands there for a moment. Lights fade.)

Week 41, Day 285 - "Life's Too Short - Hey, Look! A Balloon!"

“Life’s Too Short – Hey, Look! A Balloon!”

Written by Joe Janes

10/30/09

285 of 365

CAST:

Joni, 30s

(A lone chair sits on stage. Joni enters. She is casually dressed and looks bored. Very, very bored. She looks around the room. There is nothing to do or see. She sits in the chair. And she sits. And she sits. She is so freaking bored. From offstage, a normal-sized red balloon -sans helium- comes out onto the stage. Joni sees it. Maybe not at first, but eventually. She regards it with curiosity. She picks it up. A song like “Hooked On A Feeling” by BJ Thomas plays. She begins to play with the balloon, gently tossing it up into the air and catching it. She is enthralled. She gives the balloon a little hug. She has truly found a playmate. She waltzes around the stage with her balloon. She stops to give her balloon a kiss and it suddenly pops, the music stopping cold. She is stunned with sadness. She sits. She looks very sad and looks like she is about to cry until her quivering frown turns into a yawn. She is bored, again. Very, very bored. A very heavy red bowling ball or medicine ball rolls out onto stage. Joni sees it. She approaches the ball with forced enthusiasm. She picks it. “Hooked On A Feeling” begins to play. She struggles to play and waltz with the bowling ball as she did with the balloon, maybe even dropping it on her foot and continuing to dance with a limp. Lights fade.)