March's Theme: Chalk

It's almost March. Time to get chalky. 




 

Reminder: Happy Hour Reading Series Starts this Monday!

Happy Hour Reading Series starts this Monday, 2/28, at Lolita! 

Lolita (266 Broome)
Downstairs
2/28
7 PM
Cheap Mojitos
Happiness, joy, light, love, joy, and cheap mojitos

Hope to see you there!

Girls Like Boys

DANI (17)

ERIC (17)

AVERY (9)

 

(Dani and Eric are sitting on the floor of Dani’s bedroom. Their schoolbooks are open in a way that's clear they haven’t been studying for a while. Eric's laptop is open.)

DANI

(with attitude)

What are you talking about?

ERIC

I tell myself, I can't hold out forever. I mean, there’s no reason for my fear… I feel so secure when we're together.

DANI

You see pretty secure to me.

ERIC

But with you—you give my life direction.

DANI

Um, okay.

ERIC

You're a candle in the window on a cold dark winter's night.

(singing)

And I'm getting closer than I every thought I miiight…

(Eric presses play on his laptop, and the chorus of Can’t Fight This Feeling by REO Speedwagon picks up where he has left off. He sings along.)

ERIC

Then I can't fight this feeling anymore!
I've forgotten what I've started fighting for!
It's time to bring this ship into the shore!
And throw away the oars…

(Dani, having come to terms with what is going on after feeling disappointed, then embarrassed, then amused, now joins, belting the song to match his energy.)

BOTH

… forever! ‘Cause I can't fight this feeling any—

(The music stops. Dani’s younger sister Avery has entered, unnoticed or at least, ignored, by Dani and Eric. She stops the music.)

DANI

—more! I’ve for—Avery!

AVERY

I’m sorry to interrupt. I need help picking.

DANI

We don’t have time. We have an AP bio test tomorrow.

ERIC

Picking what?

DANI

She’s a freak.

AVERY

Just help me pick, please? I’m stuck!

DANI

You’re such a freak, freak!

ERIC

PICK WHAT?

DANI

Between her eleven boyfriends.

AVERY

Not eleven.

DANI

Mom told her she had to break up with ten.

AVERY

I took off seven.

ERIC

Who has eleven boyfriends?

DANI

We don’t have time to deal with fourth grade drama. Some of us go to school to learn.

ERIC

How did you get eleven boyfriends?

AVERY

I just like them all.

DANI

Don’t they know the other ones are dating you?

DANI

They don’t date, it’s fourth grade.

AVERY

I just like them.

ERIC

Do they know you like them?

(Avery shrugs. Eric laughs.)

DANI

Don’t encourage her.

AVERY

Please? If I haven’t picked by supper Mom is going to pick for me, she says.

ERIC

Who have you got.

DANI

This better be quick.

AVERY

Ricky Snyder, Simpson Simpson, Daniel Berkowitz and Miguel. I don’t know Miguel’s last name.

ERIC

Simpson Simpson, like that’s his first name and last name?

AVERY

Yeah.

ERIC

Cut.

AVERY

He picks his nose, anyway. But he flicks it on Sadie Parker and she deserves it.

DANI

That’s disgusting.

ERIC

That’s awesome.

DANI

You’re disgusting.

AVERY

Sadie impeded a note from Madison to me—

DANI

Intercepted.

AVERY

The same thing, basically. Anyway—

ERIC

Your nine-year-old sister has a better vocabulary than you.

DANI

Shut up.

AVERY

—Sadie read it out loud. And it said Ricky Snyder has vagina hair so Madison and I lost Sunshine Points even though I didn’t even do anything.

DANI

Disgusting.

ERIC

VAGINA hair?

AVERY

You know, curly.

DANI

Avery McDonald, you should not be talking like that. You are nine.

AVERY

Please. Today’s nine is yesterday’s twelve.

ERIC

Simpson Simpson’s out. Next.

AVERY

Daniel. Oh, how I love Daniel. He’s such an old soul.

ERIC

Is he athletic?

AVERY

Not really.

ERIC

Attractive?

AVERY

Mmm, no.

DANI

There’s more to love than physical attributes, you know.

ERIC

Nah.

AVERY

I can’t cut Daniel. Oh, no, but I can’t cut Miguel!

ERIC

Miguel whose last name you don’t know?

DANI

Exactly.

AVERY

I truly, truly love him. He has seven Z bracelets, makes his own tacos and writes haiku like none I’ve ever seen!

DANI

(impatient)

So keep Daniel.

ERIC

Miguel.

DANI

Whatever.

ERIC

Is he athletic?

AVERY

He’s okay.

ERIC

More than Daniel?

DANI

Life is not a competition!

ERIC

Apparently it is.

AVERY

But if I keep Miguel, what about Ricky Snyder?

DANI

I thought you were different.

ERIC

How?

DANI

I don’t know, nicer than other guys. I thought you were.

ERIC

I don’t know what you’re talking about.

AVERY

Okay, bare facts, Avery, stick with bare. facts. Ricky Snyder. Good penmanship, stretchy shoelaces, doesn’t bite his nails. But… Soggy sandwiches, no crusts—so first grade—lifted my dress in kindergarten, doesn’t inspire me. (pausing the think) Ricky Snyder’s out.

ERIC

So who’s left?

AVERY

Miguel and Daniel.

DANI

Mom isn’t going to let you have two.

AVERY

Maybe I can have two secretly.

ERIC

Awesome.

DANI

What is awesome about that?

AVERY

(standing)

There’s too much sexual tension in here for me to concentrate.

DANI

AVERY!

ERIC

Sexual who? You mean her and me?

DANI

Where did you learn that expression?

AVERY

Please, I’ve known it since pre-school.

(Avery exits. An awkward moment between Eric and Dani passes.)

DANI

She’s so annoying!

ERIC

She’s funny.

DANI

She drives me insane.

ERIC

What was she talking about sexual tension or whatever?

(Dani shrugs.)

DANI

So your turn to quiz. Photosynthesis.

ERIC

We did that already.

DANI

We should do it again.

ERIC

You thought I was telling you I loved you didn’t you? Before.

DANI

No.

ERIC

Yeah you did! You diiiiiiid!

DANI

I didn’t!

(He presses “play” and starts to sing at her.)

ERIC

I’ve forgotten what I’ve started fightin’ for…

(She lurches forward to kiss him. He kisses back.)

Myopia

WINNIE (50s 60s)

DARREN (50s or 60s)

(Winnie and Darren have just finished eating brunch at home and are now reading the paper, sipping mimosas out of champagne flutes. They are wearing robes. Their relationship is old and worn, as is this brunch, a casual weekend ritual. There is nothing special about the occasion, extravagant as it is. Darren notices Winnie’s glass is low and refills it with champagne. She finishes reading her article and closes her section. They swap sections without fanfare.)

WINNIE

(looking out the window, which is not far from the table)

Weird.

(Darren doesn’t react.)

WINNIE

Look. 

(Darren continues reading.)

WINNIE

Darren.

DARREN

Hmm?

WINNIE

Black smoke.

(Darren gazes out the window for a surprising length of time.)

DARREN

(resuming reading)

It’s a chimney.

WINNIE

It’s black.

DARREN

They’re probably cleaning it out.

(Winnie accepts the explanation and resumes reading.)

WINNIE

Enough with John McCain already, who cares about John McCain. What a wretched person.

DARREN

Mmm.

WINNIE

Did you know he called his wife the C-word? I mean years ago.

DARREN

Don’t recall.

WINNIE

Percy told me the other day. It’s not just gossip—she said his staff heard it. Are you listening?

DARREN

Mmm.

WINNIE

He called Cindy McCain the C-Word.

DARREN

That’s not nice.

WINNIE

It’s not just not nice.

DARREN

It’s horrifically not nice. 

WINNIE

It’s not just not nice!

DARREN

I'm glad he lost the election!

WINNIE

Thank you.

DARREN

That crippled old bastard should have died in 'Nam!

WINNIE

Alright, alright.

                                                (The smoke out the window catches Winnie’s eye
                                                again.)

WINNIE

Should we call someone?

DARREN

Want to call the fire department?

WINNIE

Should we?

DARREN

Here.

(removing his cell from his robe pocket and placing it on the table)

Call 9-1-1.

(Winnie stares at the phone for a moment then begins reading again.)

WINNIE

They’re probably just cleaning out the chimney like you said.

DARREN

If you say so.

WINNIE

You call.

(Darren reaches for the phone.)

WINNIE

You’re actually going to?

DARREN

Sure.

WINNIE

But—what are you going to say—there’s smoke coming out a chimney?

(Darren’s phone buzzes with a text before he can dial. He reads it and laughs.)

DARREN

The dog peed in the car.

WINNIE

Who sent that?

(Darren doesn’t answer.)

WINNIE

Who?

(Darren doesn’t answer, typing back.)

WINNIE

Who was that from? Valerie? Oh, Quinn?

DARREN

Quinn.

WINNIE

Won’t we have to pay something if we call and it’s nothing? When we were kids, Dana and I called 9-1-1 and yelled COME SAVE US and mom had to pay a thousand dollars. Or something.

(Darren has finished typing and placed the phone back on the table.)

DARREN

We wouldn’t be playing a prank as concerned citizens.

(Darren picks up the paper.)

WINNIE

So you’re not now?

DARREN

You told me not to.

(Both read.)

WINNIE

Nonsense.

DARREN

Hmm?

WINNIE

This is insane. Let’s put sensors on postal trucks to detect the weather so we can use them as some kind of national weather service. Please, that’s not the job of the postal service.

DARREN

Mmm.

WINNIE

(gazing out the window, sipping her mimosa)

It’s still going.

DARREN

Mmm.

WINNIE

Are we like those people who picnicked during the Civil War?

DARREN

(not looking up from the paper)

Are you watching any charred human beings being carried from the building?

WINNIE

No.

DARREN

Then I suppose not.

WINNIE

It’s been thirty minutes.

DARREN

If you feel that way, call 9-1-1.

WINNIE

I think you should.

DARREN

No.

                                                (Winnie resumes reading.)

WINNIE

If you’re not concerned, I’m not concerned.

DARREN

I’m concerned. I want to see if you’ll call.

WINNIE

What kind of perverted test is that?

(Beat.)

WINNIE

I’m sure it’s nothing.

                                                (Beat.)

Why did Quinn have the dog in the car, did she say?

DARREN

She did not.

WINNIE

I hope they were going to the park or something with the girls. They need space.

(The sound of a siren gradually gets louder, until it’s quite loud. Neither Winnie nor Darren moves. Winnie eventually turns her gaze.)

WINNIE

A fireman is going inside. Another on the roof.

DARREN

Mmm.

WINNIE

Look.

                                                (Beat.)

WINNIE

Darren.

WINNIE

I guess someone called.

DARREN

I suppose they did.

WINNIE

Good. I’m glad. That’s good.

                                                (Beat.)

WINNIE

Happy Valentine’s Day.

DARREN

You too, love. You too.

Photo from http://www.eyefetch.com/profile.aspx?user=osospicy

Cleaning House

CARTER (40s)

CARLA (40s)

CARMEN (40s)

(CARTER and CARLA are in their home. CARTER is gripping a note. We enter in the middle of the fight. This scene is loud and full of rage; moments lacking it are the exception.)

CARTER

Do you really think that!

CARLA

No!

CARTER

The first thing people say is what they really think! Usually!

CARLA

Not this time!

CARTER

I said, do you think your time is worth more than other people’s, and you said yes!

CARLA

I got that line from my sister! I don’t even mean it!

CARTER

Well, do you think it or not!

CARLA

Not in a metaphysical sense, but in a professional sense, yes!

                                                (Beat.)

CARTER

I feel deceived.

CARLA

If that’s how you feel—

CARTER

I was deceived.

CARLA

You were willfully ignorant.

CARTER

That’s what liars say to excuse their lying!

CARLA

My lies improved your quality of life!  

                                                (Beat.)

CARTER

I complimented you.

CARLA

Not me.

CARTER

I said, “The house looks great!”

CARLA

It does look great!

CARTER

Carmen isn’t you!

CARLA

That’s right, Carmen is our housekeeper!

CARTER

I don’t have a maid!

CARLA

She’s not a maid!

                                                (Beat.)

CARTER

Nine years.

CARLA

You were fine for me to be your maid, but not someone else.

CARTER

(holding up the note)

Do you pay her this much every week?

CARLA

Wouldn’t you like to know!

CARTER

How much! How much do you leave there by the vase, mocking me to come home early and catch you in your betrayal!

CARLA

She comes bi-monthly, maid man!

CARTER

Does that mean every two weeks or every two months!

CARLA

Every two weeks!

CARTER

I think that’s wrong!

CARLA

I don’t care!

                                                (Beat.)

CARTER

Maid man?

CARLA

I don’t know!

                                                (Beat.)

CARTER

At least she’s illegal.

CARLA

She’s not illegal.

CARTER

Why is this made out to cash, then?

CARLA

Because I forgot to go to the ATM, okay!

CARTER

I thought you said her name is Carmen!

CARLA

White people can be named Carmen!

CARTER

Not really!

CARLA

My Carmen is white!

CARTER

You couldn’t even hire someone illegal!

CARLA

That doesn’t make sense!

CARTER

If someone is going to clean my toilet, it should at least be someone who can’t get a real job!

CARLA

Ugh! Just because you don’t want to do it! Sissy.

CARTER

You’ve spent thousands of dollars not to do it! Tens of thousands? Tens! I can’t go there.

                                                (Beat.)

CARLA

I’m not firing Carmen.

CARTER

I am not the kind of person who has a maid!

CARLA

She’s my friend!

CARTER

You pay her to scrape your toothpaste off the sink!

CARLA

Your toothpaste!

CARTER

Our toothpaste!

CARLA

I don’t spit clumps!

CARTER

How do you know!

CARLA

Because the clumps are blue!

                                                (Beat.)

CARTER

I’ll… help clean. Sometimes.

CARLA

Ha!

CARTER

I will.

CARLA

I’ll believe it when I see it!

(CARTER begins looking for something.)

CARLA

What are you doing.

CARTER

I’m going to clean. I’m going to mop.

                                                (CARTER continues peering around corners, clueless.)

CARLA

Where is the mop, huh!

                                                (Beat.)

CARLA

Where is it!

CARTER

Just tell me.

CARLA

See?

CARTER

Where is it?

CARLA

I don’t know either! That’s my point!

CARTER

Neither of us knows where the mop is in our own home!

CARLA

No!

(CARTER opens a closet door. CARMEN is inside. She steps out. CARTER looks back and forth between CARTER and CARLA, enraged.)

CARTER

(to CARMEN)

Where is our mop!

Margot and the Bed Bug Man

MARGOT (late 20s, early 30s)

PHIL (late 20s, early 30s)

A New York studio apartment. 

The present.

(MARGOT stands alone in her studio apartment. She is surrounded by bulging garbage bags, which are tied and sealed with excessive duct tape. She surveys her surroundings wearily, then convulses, smacking her forearm and scrutinizing it before blossoming into a full-blown tantrum, which includes shedding her shirt. In its wake, her intercom buzzes.)

MARGOT

(at the intercom, not in it)

WHAT! 

(shuffling over and pressing the button)

Hi.

VOICE

You have a visitor… um… Phil?

MARGOT

(into intercom)

It’s about time.

(MARGOT puts her shirt back on. There is a knock at the door. MARGOT opens it and regards the knocker, whom we don’t see.)

MAN’S VOICE

You Margot?

           

(MARGOT doesn’t respond.)

This Apartment J?

MARGOT

Where is your equipment.

MAN’S VOICE

You gonna let me in?

MARGOT

I was told you would be in plain clothes.

MAN’S VOICE

This look like a uniform to you?

(PHIL enters. He is wearing all black and there are various chains hanging from his body, his clothes, his orifices. Some of these involve spikes. Perhaps he is wearing a dog collar. His arms are covered in tattoos. He is rolling a distinctly feminine suitcase. It is no bigger than a piece of standard carry-on luggage, ideally smaller.)

MARGOT

My appointment was at two.

(PHIL does not acknowledge this.)

MARGOT

It’s four thirty.

PHIL

Traffic in Queens. So, uh, what am I treating. 

MARGOT

Everywhere. Everywhere, everywhere, everywhere, everywhere!

(handing him a piece of paper)

The numbers correspond to numbers on the bags.

PHIL

(referring to the list)

You got those crazy shoes with the toes!

 MARGOT

Do they live in those?

PHIL

You wear those to work?

MARGOT

No.

PHIL

You work?

MARGOT

… yeah,  should we get started? I have to be somewhere in… Do we even have time at this point or should I just reschedule? Ugh, then they have an extra day to reproduce. Let’s just… can you finish in an hour and a half?

PHIL

What’s the rush?

MARGOT

Is that enough time or not?

PHIL

Depends what you want sprayed. Just those bags? Sure.

MARGOT

Spray? I thought this was steam.

PHIL

I spray the steam.

MARGOT

Everything in these bags, and those. You can steam books right? That guy Jason told me you can steam books.

PHIL

Yeah, yeah.

MARGOT

Ninety minutes is enough.

PHIL

Big plans?

MARGOT

I have a date.

PHIL

Do my best.

MARGOT

Great.

PHIL

(casually checking out her bookshelf)

You read all these?

MARGOT

Most of them.

PHIL

Damn. Smarty pants.

(MARGOT, fidgeting, suddenly darts over to his bag unzips it and reaches inside.)

PHIL

What the fuck do you think you’re doing!

MARGOT

I have bed bugs!

PHIL

You and a million other people, sweetheart.

MARGOT

I’m paying you to do something about it!

PHIL

I am!

MARGOT

You’re walking around!

PHIL

I got here three seconds ago!

MARGOT

And everyone in my building probably thinks I’m buying drugs from you!

PHIL

It's just a suitcase!

MARGOT

LOOK AT YOU!

PHIL

(casually beginning to assemble a small steamer)

Apartment J got her panties all twisted. You got a fredgie or something?

MARGOT

My PANTIES are not twisted. My PANTIES are in bag five and waiting to be steamed. What's a fredgie.

(PHIL illustrates a front wedgie. MARGOT cringes. PHIL finishes assembling the steamer and approaches the first bag. He rips a messy hole in it and plunges the nose of the steamer inside. As it buzzes, he punches and pokes it around haphazardly.)

MARGOT

How is that working?

PHIL

Heat kills the bugs. What’s his name.

MARGOT

I forgot. It’s a blind date. You aren’t even doing it systematically—you’re just poking—

PHIL

(interrupting)

Heat. Kills. The bugs.

MARGOT

I read that it has to make direct contact.

PHIL

Lady, I may look like your drug dealer, but I got a fucking degree in entomology from Cornell and have been doing this shit since I was sixteen, alright, so trust me on this one. Go… read one of your fifteen thousand books or something.

(Beat.)

MARGOT

My brother went to Cornell.

PHIL

He do this for a living, too?

MARGOT

He runs a tutoring company.

PHIL

Ladida. Real academic family.

MARGOT

I haven’t read all those books.

PHIL

Just the one about how I’m supposed to do my job, right.

(PHIL finishes one bag and moves to the next, ripping another messy hole in the plastic and repeating the sloppy procedure.)

PHIL

How much does he make now?

MARGOT

A lot.

PHIL

I could take a page from the Ladida family.

MARGOT

I’m not Ladida.  

PHIL

How much do you make.

(MARGOT doesn’t respond.)

PHIL

I make 20 bucks an hour. Your turn.

(MARGOT says nothing.)

PHIL

I see. You got a trust fund or something?

MARGOT

That’s rude.

PHIL

Only Ladida people say that.

MARGOT

Sorry I don’t have a piercing in my face.

PHIL

(moving on to the third bag)

You don’t want people to know the bed bug man came, this is a great disguise. So they think you’re buying drugs. You’re not. If I were your drug dealer, I’d dress like an exterminator.

MARGOT

Carter. I just remembered, his name is Carter.

PHIL

Jesus.

MARGOT

Shut up.

PHIL

You gonna tell me what your job is or not?

MARGOT

I’m studying to be a psychotherapist.

PHIL

I didn’t know they let psychos be therapists.

MARGOT

Hilarious.

PHIL

Serious? You’re a shrink.

MARGOT

Yes, I’m serious.

PHIL

You’re gonna make a shit ton.

MARGOT

Probably more than twenty bucks an hour, does that make me a snob?

PHIL

That doesn’t.

(PHIL moves to the fourth bag.)

MARGOT

Are you certain that was long enough in that one?

PHIL

You got student loans?

MARGOT

Yes.

PHIL

How much?

MARGOT

What is with you and money?

PHIL

Government paid back my loans on condition if there’s ever like, some friggin’ huge terrorist attack with insects I’ll work for free.

MARGOT

Huh.

PHIL

Yeah, or if some Senator gets bed bugs or some shit, I might get called. Who knows.

(MARGOT peers into one of the bags PHIL has “treated.”)

PHIL

Don’t put your hand in there it’s still—

MARGOT

Ow!

PHIL

—hot.

MARGOT

Sorry.

PHIL

Now I’m working for this punk Jason, doesn’t pay me shit.

MARGOT

Right. Jason.

PHIL

Doesn’t know a beetle from a bed bug. Twenty-two year old with a trust fund.

MARGOT

So start your own business.

PHIL

Okay.

MARGOT

You’re obviously educated and bitter about not making what you’re worth, so quit whining and start your own business for God’s sake. Jeez.

PHIL

I been thinkin’ of that actually.

MARGOT

Now has got to be a good time—good market.

PHIL

Bugs all over this damn city.

MARGOT

No shortage of demand.

PHIL

Mmm.

MARGOT

But you haven’t.

PHIL

Mmm.

MARGOT

You’re lazy.

PHIL

Is that a professional term?

MARGOT

If it’s an accurate one.

PHIL

(moving to the fifth bag, amused, to himself)

“Jeez.”

MARGOT

Okay, uh, books… should I get them down?

(pulling a frame out from where it is buried under stacks of books)

Also, this.

PHIL

I don’t think I should steam your college diploma.

MARGOT

They can live in frames.

PHIL

But it’s—

MARGOT

STEAM MY DIPLOMA. 

(PHIL’S phone rings.)

PHIL

(into phone)

What. Yeah, almost.

(to MARGOT)

Jason wants to talk to you.

(MARGOT takes the phone from PHIL, who turns his back to her and pretends to steam her diploma.)

MARGOT

This is Margot. Yes, fine, but I just want to confirm the 60-Day Guarantee… I read 60… You can’t just change it to 30… No it’s not, you think I’m an idiot? The life cycle is 5-8 weeks—

(to PHIL)

He says to come back in 60 days if I need you.

(listening, then)

For no charge because you were two hours late.

           

PHIL

‘Cause he double booked me!

MARGOT

(thrusting phone at PHIL)

So stand up to him!

(PHIL shrugs. Places her diploma somewhere on display—on a shelf, or hanging on an unused peg on the wall. MARGOT watches him.)

MARGOT

(into phone)

He says he quits.

(PHIL lunges for the phone, but MARGOT evades him.)

He’s starting his own business. I’m his first client.

(second thought)

And I hope you get bed bugs!

(final thought)

If you don’t have them, yet!

(MARGOT hangs up and tosses him the phone.)

PHIL

You’ve got a real therapeutic touch.

MARGOT

I saw you.

PHIL

What?

MARGOT

You didn’t steam it.

(PHIL shrugs.)

MARGOT

How much do I owe. Jason was charging $250.

PHIL

How about dinner?

MARGOT

Don’t be an idiot.

PHIL

Wow. Okay, not dinner.

MARGOT

You’re starting a business. Finish the books.

(MARGOT dials a number on her phone.)

MARGOT

(into phone)

Carter? Hi, this is Margot, Winston’s sister… how are you! Not great, I seem to have come down with some kind of bug…

(to PHIL)

We’ll discuss your rate over dinner.