Monthly Archives: January 2014

Jessica’s Friends

4 Friends of Jessica at her grave site.  Outside.  Cold.  Coats, hats, gloves.

1 FRIEND: I know we all loved Jessica.
2 FRIEND: We all did.
3 FRIEND: We did.
4 FRIEND: Everyone did.
(pause)
1 FRIEND: But, I don’t think it is unfair to say that she had difficulty loving us.
2 FRIEND: Yep.
3 FRIEND: Yeah.
4 FRIEND: Yep, that’s fair.
1 FRIEND: Good. I’m glad I got that off my chest.
(pause)
2 FRIEND: I mean she tried, didn’t she? She really tried, right?
(pause)
3 FRIEND: Nope.
4 FRIEND: No.
1 FRIEND: No, she didn’t.
2 FRIEND: Yeah, you’re right, what was I thinkin’?
(pause)
3 FRIEND: But she was friendly and kind, and… generous, wasn’t she?
4 FRIEND: Not really.
3 FRIEND: O, my god, no.
2 FRIEND: No sir-ree.
(pause)
1 FRIEND: I know we all didn’t really care that much for Jessica.
END

o captian my tennille (bad poetry)

if we were like the captain and tennille
would you be the captain or tennille
and why
and why
won’t love keep us together

and why do birds suddenly appear
ever time you are near
oh, what, that’s the carpenters
like, the band, the capentters
ok
ok
do that to me one more time, once is never enough

and why do people want to fill the world with silly love songs
what
it is not paul maccartney
like the beatles’ paul maccartney
well really
well really
you better shop around
for muskrat love

Pull Over

Family in a car driving forever through the desert.

Son One: I gotta pee.

Dad: Hold it.

Son Two: Yeah, I gotta pee, too.  Pull over.

Mom: Oh, pull over, let them pee.

Son Three: I gotta pee, too.

Dad: Hold it boys.  Hold it like a man.

Mom: Oh, pull over, George.  They all have to go, just pull over.

Dad pulls over.  Boys get out of back seat, head to the back of the care, line up and pee.  Then, they get back in.

Dad: You all good now, ladies?

Son Three: Yes

Son Two: Yes

Son One: OK.

Dad: OK, then.

Dad turns on blinker to pull back onto the road.

Mom: Oh, hold I, while were here.

Mom gets out, goes to back of car, pees.

Dad: You are all girls.  You boys are all girls.  See that.  Your mom is a girl, too.  And all the girls in the car had to get out and pee and couldn’t hold it.

Mom gets back in.

Mom: Thanks.  Wow, can we roll up the windows and turn on the air?

The cool air makes the Dad have to pee.

Dad: Now, I gotta pee.   But look, boys.  I’m not gonna do it.  I’m a man, I’m just gonna hold it in until….

He tries to hold it, shivers, begins dancing in his seat; then has to go too much.

 Dad: Oh, fuck it.

Dad gets out to pee behind the car; boys and Mom watch then bust out laughing.

END.

Shootin’ In The Street

A residential neighborhood at the edge of the woods.  A relatively calm cul-de-sac street.

A 10 year old BOY enters with a .22 caliber rifle and a beer can.   He puts the can downstage, goes upstage, aims, fires, misses, walks to can, spins it around, walks upstage, aims, fires, misses, walks to can.  Repeats a third time.

Neighbor One (N1) enters stage left while Boy is at beer can/target.

N1: Hey.

BOY: (startled) Hey.

N1: That’s the street, you know.  It’s not a good idea to shoot into the street.

BOY: Oh, OK.

N1: It’s just that… OK.. Thanks.  (pauses, thinks, then)  It’s a nice gun.  Did you get that for christmas?

BOY: Yep.

Neighbor Two (N2) enters holding a milk crate full of car parts.

N2: What’d’ya’ want?  What’re’ya sayin’?

N1: O, hi.  I was.. I live right there, you know.

N2: I know.

N1: And I was just asking him to not shoot into the street, is all.

N2: Well, don’t talk to him, talk to me.

Boy is caught in middle.

N1: OK.  Then I’ll ask you to ask him to not shoot into the street.

N2: Nope.

N1: Nope?  What do you…?

N2: ‘Cause it goes against what I already told him.

N1: What does?

N2: I told him to shoot into the street.

Pause.

N1: Ah, OK, but, I’m asking you… I mean, you can’t…

N2: I didn’t come out here to argue.

N1: I’m not arguing.

N2: Yes you are are if you’re telling him to not do something that I already  told him to do.

N1: But he can’t, I mean, common sense, you know, you can’t shoot into the street.

N2: He knows to look out for cars.  He’s not stupid.  We’re not stupid.

N1: I’m not.. I’m, I’m…

N2: That’s it; we’re done. (to Boy) Come on, inside. (to N1) You don’t talk to him; you talk to me.

Boy and N2 exit stage right.

N1: That’s what I’m trying to do.

N1 watches them leave then looks at beer can/target.  He walks over to can and in a sudden rage, picks up the can, crushes it in his hand, lacerating his palm.   He stands there looking at his bloody hand until he closes his eyes, raises his hand, and feels the blood run down his arm.

END

May Contain Nuts

Laurel always wanted to be treated special.  She needed some attention; and she wanted a reason for people to talk about her.

On the radio one morning, while she was driving to work, Laurel heard a report about nut allergies, “people need to be careful around other people with nut allergies.”  Some people had it so severe, the reporter said, that they died.

So, that day, Laurel started telling everyone – little by little, bit by bit, story by story – that she had nut allergies.  And, people listened.  This was great, she thought, people cared.

Co-workers put up signs in the break room to remind others about Laurel’s special needs.  To prep for afterwork gatherings, emails were sent out to highlighting the special care that needed to be taken while preparing food and drink for Laurel, “well, for everyone; but especially for Laurel.”   As a way of showing protection, friends would bring her copies of magazine articles, “look, all these airlines were switching from peanuts to pretzels.”

People were going out of there way to respect her wishes; to keep her in their minds; t o protect her.

But, after awhile, that wasn’t really enough.  Laurel felt like she was cheating and deceiving.  She felt bad.  And she, of course, felt like she couldn’t tell anyone – they’d all call here a liar.

So, Laurel thought, to validate everyone’s concern, the only thing to do was to truly make herself allergic to nuts.  She would eat a handful of cashews then make herself vomit.  Again and again.  She would sit beside someone eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and hold her breath until she passed out.  To simulate allergic convolutions, she took to eating peanuts and snorting cayenne pepper at the same time.  And overtime, she began to convince herself that she was allergic to nuts, she really was.

People would hear of these sneezing fits, “Oh, my god did you hear…”  And they would  talk about these episodes where of Laurel losing conciseness just by her proximity to nuts, “She wasn’t even eating them, she was just near them…”.   And as they would re-tell the stories, they would be even more protective and conscious of their actions, “This is serious, ya’ll, she could die.”

Then, one day, Judy brought banana-walnut bread to work without asking.  Laurel found out and sprayed herself in the face with mace.

Everyone was pissed at Judy. 

But at home, alone, her face still red, Laurel was singing in the shower.  She was so proud of herself for becoming the center of attention.  Then, she slipped, hit her head and died.

It was the nuts that killed her.