Week Two, Day Eleven - "Dancing with the Devil"

“Dancing with the Devil”
Written by Joe Janes
1/29/09
11 out of 365

CAST:
Chet, late 20s
Nadia, late 20s
Ping, late 20s
Angel
Devil

(Lights up on Chet holding a glass of beer. Disco ball lights move across the stage. We hear loud generic dance music. He stands as if he is watching the dance floor. Nadia, hotly dressed and drinking a something-tini, comes over and stands near him. He notices. She is lightly bopping to the music, also watching the dance floor.)

CHET

Hi.

NADIA

What?

CHET

I said, “hi.”

NADIA

Oh.

(Ping comes over and stands on the other side of Chet. She is smaller than Nadia and more conservatively dressed. She drinks bottle water and watches the dance floor. She, too, is lightly bopping to the music.)

PING

I hate places like this.

CHET

What?

PING

I hate places like this.

CHET

Then why are you here?

PING

I like to dance. What are you going to do? (Pause) What’s your name?

CHET

Chet.

PING

I’m Ping.

CHET

Ping?

PING

Yeah. Ping.

CHET

Is that some silly nickname with a really good story?

PING

No.

CHET

Oh.

PING

Do you like to dance, Chet?

(Nadia glances over and notices them talking.)

CHET

No.

PING

Then why are you here?

CHET (glancing over at Nadia)

Well… I…um…I’m in town for business. Didn’t want to be holed up in my hotel room all night. Just bored, I guess.

PING

Or lonely?

CHET

Or lonely.

NADIA

I came here to party. And get laid. I’m Nadia.

CHET

Hi, Nadia.

NADIA

Are you married, Chet?

CHET

No.

NADIA

Too bad.

CHET

Why too bad?

PING

Because married guys don’t come with strings attached.

NADIA

If you were married, I would totally do you. I wouldn’t have to worry about you hounding me.

CHET

I am from out-of-town. I may never be here ever, again. That’s got to count for something.

NADIA

It might.

PING

Guess it depends on what you want, Chet. You want to get laid or find someone special?

CHET

Getting laid would be special. Been awhile.

NADIA

She means do you want a hot, rocking one night stand or get saddled with one person over a long boring period of time?

CHET

Both?

NADIA

Not an option.

PING

Pick one.

CHET

I – I – I don’t know.

(The music quickly stops. Nadia and ping freeze. A spotlight hits Chet. Angel and Devil hand puppets pop up on his shoulders.)

ANGEL

Oh, Chet. A one-night stand is like a meal at a fast food restaurant. You’ll eat it and then regret it. You want something more nourishing that will last much longer.

DEVIL

Nothing wrong with grabbing a slice of pizza every once in awhile, Chet. You don’t know if this Ping thing is going to last or even if she’s good in the sack. An hour from now, you could be bobbing for boobies with Nadia, or drinking coffee and talking about ex-boyfriends and cats with Ping.

ANGEL

What’s wrong with a nice conversation?

DEVIL

Nothing, as long as you’re naked and talking dirty. But you’re not going to get that. The whole time Ping’s going on about how much she loves the Food Network, you’re going to be faking interest and wishing you were nailing Nadia.

ANGEL

Nadia fakes her orgasms.

DEVIL

Who cares, as long as yours is real?

ANGEL

Go for Ms. Right.

DEVIL

Go for Ms. Right Now.

CHET

Okay!

(The Angel and Devil disappear. Everything resumes as it was.)

NADIA

Okay, what?

CHET

I want to sleep with you! (Turns to Ping.) Sorry.

PING

Yeah. You are.

(She exits.)

CHET

We can go to my hotel room. I have Cinemax. And room service.

NADIA (sees someone)

Oh, hey, gotta go-

CHET

What? Where are you going?

NADIA

My boyfriend just walked in. (She walks off) Randy! Randy!

(Chet stands alone looking dejected. The Angel and Devil reappear on Chet’s shoulders, this time, the lights and music continue.)

ANGEL

Sorry it didn’t work out, Chet.

DEVIL

Yeah, Dude. That sucks.

ANGEL

Look at the bright side.

DEVIL

Yeah, Chet. Look at the bright side.

ANGEL

We’re here to keep you company.

DEVIL

Yeah, man. You know, I like how the disco lights bounce off your halo.

(Devil starts to make is way across Chet’s shoulders over to the Angel.)

ANGEL

Really? It’s new.

DEVIL

I usually don’t like ‘em, but, looks good on you.

ANGEL

I just got it. I like your tail. It’s all pointy.

DEVIL

You bet it is. Long, too.

ANGEL

This music is nice.

DEVIL

Yeah. I kind of dig it.

ANGEL

Do you like to dance?

DEVIL

I like to fuck. (The Devil hand puppet takes the Angel puppet from behind and they have quick, loud hand puppet sex.) You like that? You like that?

ANGEL

Yes! Oh, yes!

CHET

Well, at least somebody’s getting laid.

DEVIL

Who’s your savior? Who’s your savior?

ANGEL
You are! You are!

(Lights fade)

Week Two, Day Ten - "Neighbors"

Neighbors
Written by Joe Janes
1/28/09
10 of 365

CAST:
Jason, 30s
Kevin, 20s
Renee, 20s

(Lights up on Jason’s small apartment. Dressed in his modest business casual from work, he is carefully walking a hot bowl of tomato soup from the kitchen to a small table in the living room. He sets the bowl down and begins to eat. He sips away, slowly, spoonful after spoonful. All he is doing is quietly eating his soup. Offstage, from another apartment, we hear loud modern female country music start playing. Jason looks perturbed, but continues eating. Suddenly, the music stops cold.)

KEVIN (off)

Goddammit, Renee, I was listening to that!

RENEE (off)

Turn it the fuck down, Kevin! You’ll wake the baby!

KEVIN (off)

I’ll listen to it however the fuck loud I want. (Music comes back on. Goes back off. Comes back on. Goes back off. We hear a slap. Jason looks shaken.) Oh, what, a big baby. Whatcha gonna do? Call the police? Oh, that’s right, you can’t. Your fuckin’ phone’s been turned off.

(Jason gets up and slowly walks towards the wall where the yelling is coming from.)

RENEE (off)

You bastard! I may not have a phone, but we’ve got neighbors who have phones. Plenty of them!

KEVIN (off)

Oh, that’s a great fuckin’ idea. Let’s get the neighbors to call the police. (He starts pounding on the wall.) Hey! Neighbor! Hey, Buddy! Getting an earful? Call the fucking police. Do it, buddy! Do it! Do me a favor and call the fucking police!

JASON (meekly)

Uh…num, no, thank you.

KEVIN (off)

What? Speak the fuck up! I can’t hear you?

JASON

No, thank you!

KEVIN (off, laughing)

See that, Renee. He don’t want to call the police. He’s got better things to do. Don’t you, Neighbor!

JASON (more to himself)

I have soup.

RENEE (off)

Fuck you, Kevin. Fuck you and the horse you rode in on. I’m getting the fuck out of here. I’m taking the baby and I’m leaving.

KEVIN (off)

Fine, get the fuck out of here! See if I care.

RENEE (off)

Fine, fuckface.
(She slams the door.)

KEVIN (off)

Tell your bitch queen mom I said hi and to go fuck herself, too!

(Jason still stands looking startled. We hear her foot steps go down the hall until she knocks on Jason’s apartment door on the opposite side of the stage. Jason moves towards the door, but is frozen. She knocks a few times until…)

RENEE (off)

Hello? …I know you are in there…I can see you through the peephole…

JASON

Who is it?

RENEE (off)

Let me in, please. I’m your neighbor. I need to use your phone….Please…

JASON (opens door)

Hi.

RENEE (entering)

Thank, God. Thank you. Whew! I’m sorry you had to hear all that.

JASON

Oh, you know. Couples have their little spats.

(The female country music starts blaring, again.)

RENEE

Wow, that’s fucking loud. Excuse me, I mean, that’s effing loud. I’m Renee.

JASON

Jason.

RENEE

Hi, Jason. Nice to be out of asshole central. I mean, a-hole central.

JASON

Shouldn’t you have a baby with you?

RENEE

Aw, shit.

(She quickly exits and runs back to her apartment. Jason stands still in his apartment, listening. The music cuts off.)

KEVIN (off)

Well, well, well, lookie whose come crawling’ back. You broke a record, that time!

RENEE (off)

Cram it, Kevin! I just came to get the baby!

KEVIN (off)

Maybe the baby don’t want to go!

RENEE (off)

The baby wants to go. Our baby can’t stand you. Our baby thinks you’re an asshole, asshole!

(She slams the door.)

KEVIN (off)

Bitch!

(Music starts up, again. Renee makes her way back in to Jason’s apartment carrying one of those car seat/carriers with the baby inside.)

RENEE

It’s okay, Travis. Mommy’s here and Jason’s here. Everything’s going to be fine, now.

JASON

The phone’s in the kitchen.

RENEE

…good…?

JASON

Aren’t you going to call the police?

RENEE

Oh, heck, no. Be more trouble than it’s worth. Kevin needs his job.

JASON

But he hit you.

RENEE

He what? Kevin? Kevin didn’t hit me.

JASON

But I heard it. Loud and clear. A big slap

RENEE

I hit Kevin. And then he went and threw a hissy fit. His bark’s way worse than his bite.

(The music stops abruptly, again.)

KEVIN (off)

Hey, neighbor. Hey! Sorry about the yelling! Hey, you there? You hear me?

JASON

Yes! I hear you.

KEVIN (off)

I said I was sorry about all the yelling. Me and the missus, you know. We just go at it sometimes. Don’t mean nothing. We love each other; we just don’t seem to like each other very much. You know? I said, you know?

JASON

Yeah, I know. Sure.

KEVIN (off)

My name’s Kevin… What’s your name?

JASON

Jason.

KEVIN (off)

Any way, Jason. It’s nice to meet you. You sound like a good man. Just wanted to say I’m sorry to be bothering you. My gal, she’s special. I’ll love her till the day I die.

RENEE

Oh, Kevin!

KEVIN (off)

Renee? What the fuck are you doing over there? (Kevin slams the door and run/stomps over to Jason’s apartment while yelling at Renee and bursts in. He and Renee get in to an unintelligible nose-to-nose shouting match with the baby being held between them. Jason grabs his bowl of soup and makes his way out the door. The yelling continues until we hear the female country music start up again. Kevin and Renee stop yelling for a second, look around, and then start yelling at each other, again. Lights fade.)

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Week Two, Day Nine - "Better Than Money"

“Better Than Money”
Written by Joe Janes
1/27/09
9 of 365

CAST:
Louis, 50s
Mannie, 50s
Tobey, 60s

(Lights up on a dive bar. Louis, a little stocky, is restocking bottles of beer into a cooler. The Buscemi-like Mannie sits at the end of the bar nursing a beer. A bar stool or two down from him is Tobey, who wears her graying hair up in a beehive. It’s present day, but if you went by the way they were dressed you might think they were a few decades behind.)

LOUIS

Sure are nursing the hell out of that beer, Mannie.

MANNIE

Yep. Yep. I guess I am.

TOBEY

Wants to make sure he tastes every drop, right, Mannie?

MANNIE

Ha. That’s a funny one, Tobey.

TOBEY

Who can blame him since you raised your prices a buck?

LOUIS

Hey, times are tough. And I ain’t raised my prices in ten years. I was due.

MANNIE

Sure. Sure. You was due. No one can blame you. My wife is blaming you. She’s pissed.

LOUIS

I raise my prices and Estelle is pissed. Estelle never steps foot in here.

MANNIE

I know. I know. Women, right?

TOBEY

Estelle controls the purse strings.

MANNIE

I have a weekly beer budget.

LOUIS

The old lady put you on a monthly beer budget? Ain’t that something? I feel honored that my bar is a budget item.

MANNIE

Yeah, that’s something. It is. Thing is, your prices went up at exactly the same time my beer budget went down.

TOBEY

Estelle cut your beer bucks? No way.

MANNIE

20% budget cut all across the board. We have to pay less on everything. Groceries, movies, cable, prescription medicine. Everything.

LOUIS

Pains me to hear that, Mannie. You didn’t hear it from me, but you drinking less, probably a good thing.

MANNIE

I getcha. I getcha. (Finishes beer) How much do I owe you?

LOUIS

Four bucks.

MANNIE

Okay. Okay. Um, here.

(Mannie lays down three one-dollar bills and a coupon-looking piece of paper)

TOBEY

What the hell is that?

MANNIE

It’s money.

LOUIS

No, it ain’t.

MANNIE

It’s as good as money.

LOUIS

“Good for one hug.” This a joke?

MANNIE

I’m good for it, Louis. (Pause) Just hear me out.

LOUIS

I listen better with money in my hand.

MANNIE

If I pay you another dollar, a real dollar, I won’t be able to tip or pay for another beer.

LOUIS

You’re really making me cry, here, Mannie.

MANNIE

If I can’t pay for another beer, then I have to go home. Don’t make me go home, Louis. To Estelle. To the TV. To the…talking.

LOUIS

And you think a hug from you is worth a dollar? The bank don’t take hugs.

MANNIE

Well, if you don’t want a hug. I have other things. (Flips through coupons) 10-Minute back rub, foot massage, a big smooch-

LOUIS (snatching stack)

What the hell are these?

MANNIE

My money!

LOUIS

It ain’t money. (Reads one) They’re “love” coupons.

TOBEY
Love coupons?

MANNIE

I bought ‘em for Estelle a few years ago on A Valentine’s Day. To spice up our marriage. Didn’t work, but I thought they might make for good barter.

LOUIS

This is what you bring to barter?

MANNIE

Had to be something Estelle wouldn’t miss. She won’t miss these.

TOBEY

They’re sweet. Estelle didn’t use any?

MANNIE

She used one. “Romantic Dinner for Two.” She made me take her to Olive Garden.

TOBEY (sincerely)

The gal’s got class.

LOUIS

A relaxing bubble bath?

MANNIE

Sure, why not? You come over and I’ll make you a bubble bath. Nice one. Hot, but not too hot. Estelle’s got these things called bath bombs. They’re fizzy.

LOUIS

If I wanted to take a bubble bath, I’d do it at home.

TOBEY

Really?

LOUIS

Well, you know, I’d have to clean the tub first. Maybe use laundry detergent for the bubbles.

TOBEY

Let me see that one…(Louis hands Tobey one). Louis, I would like to buy this one from you for one dollar.

LOUIS

Make it a buck fifty.

TOBEY (rolling eyes)

Fine.

(She pays him)

MANNIE

Thanks, Tobey.

TOBEY

Shut up and give me a hug, Mannie. (Mannie walks over to Tobey. She hands him the coupon and he hugs her in a very tender, non-sexual way. Both are moved by this.) That was worth a buck fifty, Louis. You should try one.

MANNIE

When was the last time anyone gave you a hug, Louis?

LOUIS

Never you mind.

MANNIE

Can I get another beer?

LOUIS

Only if you pay first. (Mannie counts out four dollars on the bar. Louis pushes one of the dollars back and picks up one of the coupons. He pours Mannie a beer) Been a long time since I had a hug. Been even longer since I had a foot massage.

(Lights fade)

Week Two, Day Eight - "Pushing the Envelope"

Pushing the Envelope
Written by Joe Janes
1/26/09
8 of 365

CAST:
Trey Vanbetheysen III, late 30s - early 40s


(Lights up on Trey. A thin, pale man in dark clothing. A black mock turtleneck and a dark tweed sports coat. He sits at a small table with a cup of Starbucks coffee. He is speaking to someone in the direction of the audience. There is more than just a slight sir of superiority about him.)

TREY

You want to know about my life in the theatre. Well, what shall I tell you? Currently, Trey Vanbetheysen III’s plate is full and overflowing. The food on my plate is messy, expressive and busy. But I love it. Relish it. Wouldn’t trade any of it. There are theater people in Ethiopia who don’t get to do half of what I do. The biggest leg of mutton I’m trying to gobble up is a dramatic play I wrote and will direct starring one John Malkovich. A brilliant story masterfully woven. It really pushes the envelope. My intention is to push the envelope. In fact, it’s titled, Pushing the Envelope. It’s about a Depression-era Italian immigrant farmer with no arms. He must get an envelope to the post office to be stamped and mailed. As he struggles pushing the envelope along a dirt road and to the city with his nose, he reveals the mystery and pathos and sheer brute angst that is his life through a series of gripping monologues. What does the envelope contain? Is it a check for the bank to keep his farm from being foreclosed? Is it a love letter to his wife in Rome begging her to come to small town Midwest America? Is it his last will and testament as we discover he his dying from a terminal disease? We are led to believe it is the RSVP to a wedding invitation. His own daughter’s wedding. His dream is to give her away, but he cannot because he has no arms, you see. The stuff guts are wrenched from. It’s not a tearjerker; it’s a tear gusher. Tears will gush from their ducts and flow like a burst damn from audience to stage. In the end, after three engrossing hours – the first hour, completely silent, by the way - he finally arrives at the post office, knees bloodied, nose and chin shredded by dirt and stone, only to discover it’s a national holiday and the post office is closed. Columbus Day. Who was also Italian. Oh, delicious irony. His son will never get that college tuition and will end up a struggling farmer like his father. Oh. Could you not tell anyone that last part? I didn’t ruin it for you, I promise. It’s all in how the story is told any way. It’s like Shakespeare. You know how they’re all going to end, but you enjoy the journey just the same.

No, no, no, no. …You’re not in theater, are you? He can’t just carry the envelope in his mouth. Don’t you see? It’s all monologues. He needs to speak. Plus, it’s called Pushing the Envelope, not Mouthing the Envelope. I suppose he could carry it for the first hour, but then it wouldn’t be a whole hour. Probably best just to leave art to the artists.

PTE will put me firmly on the map. My forte, what I have a reputation for, is musicals based on tragedy. 9/11, Bhopol, Chernobyl, Katrina. I wrote Titanic – The Musical, but not the one that you may have heard of. Mine was an improvement on that one. I saw it and said to myself, “Trey, this is shit. You can do better. And I did.” My first act ends with a stirring emotional upheaval via a duet between the iceberg and the hole in the boat. (sings) We weren’t meant to be/But how can we resist/Steel and ice at sea/We should not exist!...A twist of fate/ A twist of steel/A destined date/The captain’s wheel - spi-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-ns out of control… Too Andrew Lloyd Webber? I get that a lot. Hell, I’ll take the comparison. Puts me in good company.

You may have heard about one I wrote and almost starred in about Johnstown – the great flood of 1889, called Merrily We Drown. It was optioned and workshopped for Off Off (off) Broadway. Ultimately, the investors didn’t have faith that we could effectively pull off the title song and closing number, the grand finale. All the townfolk and a few of their horses, underwater, dead, singing and synchronized swimming while being swept away in a funnel. Esther Williams meets Our Town meets The Wizard of Oz meets an equestrian show. Brilliant. Some day. Some day.

My longest running production here in Chicago was a remount of a musical extravaganza I created in college. Myself and a few of my gang o’ thieves remounted it here in the old Zebra Crossing space. A time travelling sci-fi musical murder mystery starring Anne Frank called Panic in the Attic. It’s one of the few tragic-based musicals in my cannon that has a happy ending. Anne escapes from the Nazis in her time machine and lands in America in the 80’s, changes her name to Winona Ryder and falls in love with Christian Slater. They live happily ever after. Sorry, I get a little choked up when I think about PITA.

Pushing the Envelope? Well, baring any complications, we hope to go into production in the fall. Right now, we’re waiting for Mr. Malkovich to get back to us on the script. I have it on good authority that the play is in his mailbox at the Steppenwolf and he is aware of its existence. Confidentially, I’ve heard he can be a handful to direct, but I’m not worried. I’m not afraid to direct via iron fisting. I’m not afraid of Sir John Malkovich. I once told Dustin Hoffman I thought his work was shit…I call it as I see it. He ignored me. Or didn’t hear me. It was a crowded room. Music playing.

So, you see, with the demands of my theatrical life, I need a flexible schedule. Your health insurance is also very attractive to me. And, I’m not sucking up to you here; I really do enjoy your coffee. Lord knows how many thousands of dollars a year I have given to your fine corporation. Least you could do is throw me a little bone of employment. You’d never have to worry about me running out of black mock turtleneck shirts.

(He gets up and readies to leave.)

Well, do let me know. I have other people who have expressed interest in my services. Oh, and – this is in no way a bribe, you have very striking eyes - if you are interested in theater, I could get you up on the stage in one of my productions. You won’t even have to audition. (confidentially leans in) Malkovich will need an understudy.

(Lights fade)

MOUSTACHE-A-THON UPDATE!

Thank you Beata and Jenny for contributing to the cause. I still need to raise $880 to reach my goal of $1,000. All the money goes to 826-CHI, an educational non-profit. Any amount you can donate is welcome and will make a difference. You can support the cause by sponsoring my and my 'stash Zed by clicking HERE. Thanks.

Week One, Day Seven - "Babies Are Assholes"

Babies Are Assholes
Written by Joe Janes
1/25/09
7 of 365

CAST:
GUNNAR, 20’s
STACY, 20’s
DRUMMER
KEYBOARDIST

(Lights up on Stacy and Gunnar. They are a young, hip fashionable rock and roll couple sitting on the sofa of his living room. He strums an electric guitar as she curls up next to him.)

STACY

I’m glad you finally got to meet my parents, Gunnar.

GUNNAR

I’m glad you finally got to meet my guitar, Stacy.

STACY

I like your guitar.

GUNNAR

My guitar likes you, too.

STACY

My parents really liked you.

GUNNAR

Ned and Felicia are pretty cool, in a parent-y sort of way.

STACY

We have so much in common.

(Gunnar nods. long pause)

STACY

We should probably start thinking about the future.

GUNNAR

You mean, like, spaceships?

STACY

I mean like maybe us getting married some day. Or maybe just living together.

GUNNAR

Marriage is cool. Living together is cool, too. We could do both.

STACY

And we could start a family.

GUNNAR

What?

STACY

You know, have a baby, or two.

GUNNAR

No way. Unh-uh. I hate children.

STACY

But Gunnar, they wouldn’t be just any children. They would be our children.

GUNNAR

I’d like ‘em better if they weren’t.

STACY

But, Gunnar. Why?

GUNNAR

Why? I’ll tell you why…

(slow and melodic, accompanied by his electric guitar)

They come in to this world a bundle of sweet joy
Like a baby Godzilla - they eat and destroy
They stretch out your vagina to the size of a hat
While my wallet shrinks down to the size of a gnat

All they do is eat and puke and drool and cry and poo,
They’ll never clearly tell you what they want you to do
The baby is your schedule, all your sleep is gone
What is it about babies that makes them carry on?

(A drummer and keyboardist join in and the tune kicks into a high energy rock and roll Me First and the Gimmee Gimmees sort of ditty.)

CHORUS (GUNNAR AND BAND)

Babies are assholes (wah, wah, wah)
Babies are assholes (wah, wah, wah)
Babies are assholes (wah, wah, wah)
Just shut the fuck up

GUNNAR

You have to keep them warm, you have to keep them dry,
They don’t come with instructions or any helpful guide
You have to take them with you wherever you go
Their head is so big cuz of their massive ego

They don’t care about the plans you make
All they do is take and take and take
They pay you back in stinky diapers,
I’d rather raise a nest of vipers

CHORUS (GUNNAR AND BAND)

Babies are assholes (wah, wah, wah)
Babies are assholes (wah, wah, wah)
Babies are assholes (wah, wah, wah)
Just shut the fuck up

Babies are assholes (you already ate)
Babies are assholes (I’m watching TV)
Babies are assholes (It’s all about you)
Wah, wah, wah!

(BRIDGE) STACY

We were all babies once
Just as cute as can be

GUNNAR

Why can’t they come out full grown?

STACY

Don’t want that coming out of me.

Babies are life affirming
Babies are so sweet

GUNNAR

They only come in handy
When pitbulls need to eat

STACY

Babies can be noisy
And they need you near

GUNNAR

Why would you need a baby when-

STACY (caressing Gunnar)

I already have my baby here.

CUT TO EVERYONE SINGING IN SWEET A CAPELLA HARMONY

Rock-a-bye baby, in the tree top…

GUNNAR (spoken)

Stacy, why’s that stupid baby in a tree?

STACY(spoken)

Because, Gunnar…

EVERYONE

Babies are assholes (wah, wah, wah)
Babies are assholes (wah, wah, wah)
Babies are assholes (wah, wah, wah)
(quick shift to slow, Gunnar all alone)
Somebody change me

(I highly recommend someone fashion a percussion bead-filled shaker thingy out of a baby doll for Stacy to play during the final chorus. Get it? Shake the baby to get the cool sound.)

(Lights out)

Week One, Day Six - "Spin Cycle"

“SPIN CYCLE”
(Inspired by Cassandra Soliday)
Written by Joe Janes

FULL CAST:
Six-to-Eight People

(Lights up on a group of people in a tight circle on the floor. They are laughing and having a good time. Some people are drinking. A few may be standing or crouching. We hear what seems to be a bottle spinning on the floor. The bottle stops and the group starts tauntinglingly pointing and ooh-ing and aw-ing at a girl in the circle, upstage. The girl rolls her eyes and grabs the “bottle,” revealing it to be a gun she picks up and holds to her head. Everyone goes silent. She pulls the trigger and we hear a “click” sound. There is a slight pause. Everyone cheers as the girl puts the gun back on the floor and spins it again. Lights fade)

Week One, Day Five - "Single Slices"

SINGLE SLICES
Written by Joe Janes
1/23/09
5 of 365

CAST:
Don – 40s
Maureen – 40s
Brian – 30s
Stephanie – 30s
Jake – 20s
Cara – 20s
VO - female


(Lights up on three couples seated in pairs around the stage. Instead of facing one another, they face out, although in the “reality” of the scene, they are seated directly across from one another. Don is seated next to Cara, Brian is seated next to Stephanie, and Jake is seated next to Maureen. They all wear nametags.)

VO

Good evening and welcome, singles. (No response) I said, welcome, singles! (Couples start applauding; Jake and Cara actually provide enthusiastic hooting noises) Welcome to Chi-Town Speed Daters. First, let’s make sure everyone is in their right age group. On the main floor we have people in the 20s. On the mezzanine, we have people in their 30s and in the back of the balcony we have everyone over 40. If you are not in the right age category, please move to the right one now. (The couples look around.) I repeat; if you are not in the appropriate age category, please move…now, lady. (Maureen gets up, quickly scribbles her number on a cocktail napkin and hands it to Jake with a pantomimed “call me.” She walks over to Don and Cara and “thumbs” Cara to take a hike. Don quickly hands Cara a business card. Cara takes her place next to Jake as Maureen sits down next to Don with Maureen and Don looking a bit unhappy about it.) Thank you. You now have two minutes to get to know the person sitting across from you. Go (a loud air horn blows, everyone jumps a bit from being startled).

(When the different couples speak, stage lights highlight their area of the stage.)

JAKE

So, Cara. You like to party?

CARA

OMG, I love to party.

BRIAN

So, you look nice.

STEPHANIE

Let’s cut through the crap here, Brian. What do you do for a living?

MAUREEN

I’ve had two divorces.

DON

Hey, me, too. You weren’t one of them, were you? (He laughs. She doesn’t.)

CARA

I went to the University of Illinois. Go Illini! Woo! My degree’s in communications.

JAKE

Me, too. I went to DePaul.

CARA

Oh. Okay.

STEPHANIE

I want three children.

BRIAN

Me, too. I love kids.

STEPHANIE

Can you afford them?

BRIAN

What?

STEPHANIE

Kids are expensive. Can you afford one, let alone three?

BRIAN

I have a job… and a dog…?

DON

I hate getting older, don’t you?

MAUREEN

The bitch of it is, I don’t feel any older, upstairs. It’s the body that occasionally needs patchwork.

DON

I know exactly what you mean.

MAUREEN

My feet hurt more than they ever have. You can’t tell. I don’t think you can tell. My high heels have gel inserts.

DON

Me, too. In my loafers. Dr. Scholl should be the Surgeon General. So many little aches and pains and you never know which ones going to turn out to be cancer. Am I right?

JAKE

I don’t read books.

CARA

I hate books!

DON

I did something the other day I thought I would never, ever do. I bought a tube of Preparation H. I know! I was embarrassed. I haven’t felt like that in a drug store since I bought condoms as a teenager. And Preparation H? It’s exactly what you think it is and you put it on exactly the way you think you would. (He shudders)

MAUREEN

I use it under my eyes. (He looks at her oddly)

BRIAN

He’s a doctor. Doctor Who. I watch it because I like it…?

STEPHANIE

Is it about oriental medicine?

BRIAN

No.

Don

I peed blood once. It was like I was menstruating. Now, I know what you women go through.

STEPHANIE

The last guy I dated sent me a picture of his penis – on my cell phone! One – who does that? And two – a flaccid penis?

BRIAN

Maybe his penis was sad.

CARA

My hobbies are partying, working out and wearing thongs.

JAKE

Me, too!

DON

It’s not that I pee a lot; it’s just that I feel like I have to pee a lot.

STEPHANIE

I just don’t want another freeloader. If I wanted that, I’d date a hobo.

CARA

I can’t believe I’m here.

JAKE

I can’t believe you’re here, either. You’re hot.

BRIAN

I can’t believe I’m here.

(Stephanie sighs and looks at her cell phone)

MAUREEN

I can’t believe I’m here.

DON

I know exactly how you feel.

MAUREEN

Don, I’m really not interested in getting a third divorce.

DON

Still paying for my last two.

MAUREEN

I don’t expect to meet “the one” here.

DON

It would be nice, though, wouldn’t it?

MAUREEN

I’ll settle for a friend.

DON

That would be nice, too.

CARA

Hey, Jake, let’s bail on these losers and go do shots at the bar.

JAKE

I’m buying.

CARA

D’uh.

(They exit. Lights up on Brian and Stephanie sitting in silence, glowering. Loud air horn blares, again, and everyone is startled.)

VO

All right, singles. Grab your stuff. It’s time to move on.

(Lights fade)