The Rubik's Cube

On a crowded subway car, a little boy sits working diligently on a Rubik’s Cube but making little headway. The sound of the train arriving at a station—the announcement by the automated voice, the doors opening and closing with their standard signal—accompanies the entrance of a young woman who takes a seat across from the boy. With headphones in her ears, she types casually into her phone before removing a Rubik’s Cube from her bag. The boy immediately spots it. For two or so minutes, she rapidly and effortlessly moves the sides of the cube. When she achieves equal colors on all sides, she slips the cube into her bag and rests her head against the window, closing her eyes. She opens them as the train begins to slow, arriving at its next stop. She and the boy make fleeting eye contact. She exits the train. The little boy looks down at his Rubik’s Cube and back at the space the woman just left, now occupied by another rider. He resumes working on his Cube.

Bad Luck Duck

Thosefunnypictures.com

A man is running in cargo shorts. Running is an overstatement. He’s moving at the pace of the average person walking uphill. Heaves. It may be the first time he’s every worked out. It’s at least been a long time. The woman approaches him.

WOMAN

Excuse me—do you know where White Street is?

(He gestures directions as he cannot speak.)

WOMAN

Thank you.

(She begins walking in the direction he’s pointed. They are just a few feet apart when he realizes he’s told her the wrong direction. He stumbles back and taps her. He motions that he was wrong; it’s in the direction he’s going.)

WOMAN

White Street? White Street is?

(He nods and turns to resume his “jog.”)

WOMAN

Thank you.

(She walks at the same speed as he does, now in the same direction.)

WOMAN

Good for you. (Beat.) I don’t mean that as an insult. I mean it’s good you’re getting out and making it happen. Good for you.

MAN

(hardly able to speak but determined)

I haven’t run in five years, okay?

WOMAN

Double good for you! Quin… duple good for you.

(She lights a cigarette, still walking more or less the same speed as him.)

MAN
(waving the smoke away)

Could you—

WOMAN
(switching her cigarette to the other hand)

Sorry. Five years is a long time not to exercise. It’s been a couple of months for me and I thought that was long. I’m not insulting you. I’m saying that’s extra impressive.

MAN
(stops running, flips out)

AHHHH! GAHHH! DAMMIT!

WOMAN

WHAT?

MAN

I want one so BAD.

WOMAN

This? You can’t smoke! You’re running!

(He’s still freaking out.)

WOMAN

Want me to slow down?

MAN

Please!

(They continue like this for a beat or two. Then he stops, runs back, and takes a long drag of her cigarette. He hands it back politely. She humors this and begins walking with him again.)

WOMAN

You want your own?

MAN

No. I quit. A week ago.

WOMAN

Good for you. (Beat.) Sorry. (Beat.) So. What’s with the life changes?

MAN

(breathing more easily since he stopped for a bit, but continuing to jog)

Just time to make some adjustments.

WOMAN

You get fired?

(He shakes his head.)

WOMAN

Break up?

(He doesn’t respond.)

WOMAN

Somebody die?

(He picks up his pace a little.)

WOMAN

You’ll survive. The endorphins are a smart move.

MAN

Stop… (stops) PATRONIZING me! (He hangs his head over his legs.)

WOMAN

Sorry.

MAN

I’m gonna go back that way now.

WOMAN

It’s okay. Look, White Street. I turn here anyway. Sorry

(She waves and turns. He starts walking back in the direction he came from.)

WOMAN

(turning and spotting him)

Where are you going! Finish your run!

MAN

(furious at her)

I jog at the speed of a chick walking to work. I stole a stranger’s cigarette. I STOLE A STRANGER’S CIGARETTE.

WOMAN

It’s okay! You’re getting healthy—you’re okay.

MAN

For shit I am.

WOMAN

I mean, it was a little weird that you grabbed my cigarette. But I asked for it. I guess.

MAN

I’m going home to die.

WOMAN

Woah. Come here.

(He doesn’t move.)

WOMAN

Come here!

(He walks over to her lifelessly.)

WOMAN

Sit. SIT.

(They sit side by side on the sidewalk. He puts his head in his hands. The sound of a large truck going by. A screech and a car horn. She is jarred by this briefly. He doesn’t notice.)

WOMAN

Have you heard about the bad luck duck?

(He shakes his head.)

WOMAN

Once there was a fisherman who went out everyday looking for fish. One day, he spotted a mallard near his boat. That day do you know how many fish he caught? None. He went home empty-handed where his wife scolded him. She was a difficult wife. The next day, he went out and again saw the mallard. Stupid mallard, you’re bad luck, he thought. And guess how many fish he caught that day? None. The third day it happened again. To make matters worse, when he raised his fist to shake it at the mallard, he was in such fury he lost his balance and plunged headfirst into the water! He lost his bait and most of his hooks. Something had to be done. The following morning, the fisherman didn’t bring his bait and tackle to the lake. Instead, he brought a shotgun. He took aim at that mallard and was about to shoot when the duck, sensing danger, flew away. He shot a bullet straight into the air and warned the bird never to return, lest he die for sure! The next morning, he arrived and was pleased to see the duck was nowhere in sight. That day, he caught twenty fish! The following day, he caught thirty! The following day, forty—his record! As he was regaling his fellow fishermen with the tale of the bad luck duck, one said, “You mean that mallard over there?” Floating in the shade was the duck. Oh, I forgot to tell you—the fisherman had bad eyesight so he couldn’t see the duck unless it was near his boat. “That’s been around all season!” his buddies told him. (Beat.) See?

MAN

No.

WOMAN

Cheer up. It’ll make you cheer up.

(Beat.)

MAN

Can I have a cigarette?

WOMAN

That’s the spirit.

The Blog is Back on August 22nd!

It got a bike, got a tan, and got a ticket on that bike. Which it is appealing.  

But summer's drawing to a humid close, and it's ready to roll again. See on you this uncomfortable looking raft next week. 

-Mary

WORD PROCESSING BOOTCAMP! Sick of being a tech tard? Got the "iGotta do something about this" bug? Look no further!

Welcome, class! How is everybody doing? I can’t hear you! How is everybody doing? (Beat.) Maybe we’re a little shy tonight. You’re here because you want to brush up on your word processing skills, and I’ll start the class by commending you for that decision. In today’s cyber world, you cannot be tech savvy enough, am I right? Let’s hear a, “You got it, Sam!” One, two, three! (Beat.) Thanks sir, I appreciate your participation.

It seems the more we try to keep up, the more quickly the world of technology runs ahead of us. Just last week I was having dinner with a friend, and he asked me if I wanted to see his eye twitch. I said, “What!” I thought he meant a new gadget! Turned out it was just his eye, twitching. Every fifteen seconds ago just (imitating) twitch… twitch…

New gadgets everyday! Smaller and smaller! Before we cannonball in, I just want to make sure I know where everyone’s starting point is. Because if Roy is at point D and Becky is at point X, then starting at point A is just going to waste everyone’s time, right? (Beat.) I see you nodding back there, don’t be shy. Am I right? There we go! (Abruptly changing tones) WRONG. Sally over there may be at point A. I don’t see her nodding. We move only as fast as our slowest member is my philosophy on this class. And in life. My philosophy in life is that as well. Just ask my wife!

Where was I? Assessing class level. Who knows what a mouse is? Hands? Woah! You do have limbs and voluntary reaction mechanisms! We got an advanced group here. No problem, I’ll skip ahead a bit then. Let’s see. (Long, dramatic pause.) Who can tell me the difference between a netbook and a desktop? Computer. (Beat.) Thank you for your question, which I assume is how you meant it, since one of us is the teacher and one of us is the student and (much louder, yelling over someone trying to speak) THE ANSWER IS YES IT IS CALLED A NETBOOK, LAPTOP IS SYNONYM FOR NETBOOK! (Beat.) I’m not sure why you’re in the class if you know so—Because some people may not know… (responding to whole class) Woah! Woah! Mutiny! No mutiny! REJECTING MUTINY! (Long beat.) I might be swayed by that collective outburst had I not noticed Anna over there sitting quietly during it. I don’t want to be presumptuous, but maybe Anna is not as advanced as the rest of—(Beat.) In that case, Anita, I think I’ll make an executive decision to skip the skills assessment period and move forward to the post-break curriculum. (To class at large) BUT CLASS: If we are moving too fast and you are embarrassed to step forward among aggressors, tell me at the break, okay? Alright. (Beat.) I’m going to tell you a story about a little guy called icon...

Learning to be Assertive

BOYCOTTER

(at a potential restaurant patron)

DON’T GO IN! (the patron keeps walking) IT’S AN EVIL PLACE! (he keeps walking) YOU ARE A HARDHEARTED, WILLFULLY IGNORANT ASSHOLE CHOOSING TO BE COMPLICIT IN WRONGDOING! (He stops and looks at her.) Sorry. I’m trying to learn to be more assertive.

PATRON

No need to be mean about it.

BOYCOTTER

Sorry.

PATRON

You could just politely tell me why you don’t want me to go in.

BOYCOTTER

The manager sexually assaulted a waitress and they won’t do anything about it.

PATRON

Do you know this waitress?

BOYCOTTER

Does it matter?

PATRON

I guess not.

BOYCOTTER

So you won’t go?

PATRON

I guess I can find somewhere else for a burger.

BOYCOTTER

Thanks.

PATRON

Maybe try talking to people normally next time.

BOYCOTTER

That doesn’t usually work.

PATRON

Then I doubt yelling at them will work.

BOYCOTTER

Okay. Bye.

(Another patron approaches before the first patron has gone far.)

BOYCOTTER

(very timidly)

Do you mind not going in ma’am? Ma’am, please don’t go in…

(The woman ignores her.)

PATRON

Oh, come on, you can be more assertive than that.

BOYCOTTER

I have no middle ground.

PATRON

You must.

BOYCOTTER

I don’t have a range. I just have two extremes.

PATRON

Okay, next person, I want you to be forceful but not insulting.

BOYCOTTER

(to next patron)

HEY, SPINELESS DICK!

(The patron hurries inside, offended.)

See? Weird, right?

PATRON

Yep. Definitely.

I Say Forgiven, You Say What?

Two people at a concert, dancing. It’s almost impossible to speak and be heard over the music.

WOMAN

I FORGIVE YOU.

GUY

WHAT?

WOMAN

I’M READY TO FORGIVE YOU.

GUY

WHY?

WOMAN

I’M TIRED OF HOLDING A GRUDGE.

GUY

WHY ARE YOU FORGIVING ME?

WOMAN

I JUST TOLD YOU. (Beat.) ARE YOU GLAD?

GUY

WHAT?

(She shakes her head, “never mind.”)

GUY

WHAT ARE YOU FORGIVING ME FOR?

(She makes a face.)

GUY

IT’S BEEN SEVEN YEARS!

(She nods.)

GUY

YOU’VE BEEN MAD FOR SEVEN YEARS?

WOMAN

WHY DID YOU THINK I WASN’T TALKING TO YOU?

GUY

I THOUGHT WE LOST TOUCH.

(She shakes her head.)

GUY

WANT ANOTHER DRINK?

Seven Jim Stevensons

jim-stevenson.com

ANNOUNCER

Once upon a time there were seven Jim Stevensons. These are their stories. (Beat.) Why Jim Stevenson III became a serial killer.

(The sound of a baby crying. A mom stands onstage.)

MOM

(exhausted)

Just this once. Just this once, I'm not going to him.

ANNOUNCER

This is the story of how one of the twelve Jim Stevensons of Butte, Montana became crippled.

(Jim stands in a grocery store line behind a woman whose groceries are being charged. He moves the grocery check-out wand on the other side of a cantaloupe so that it is now on his side of the wand.)

WOMAN

What do you think you're doing?

JIM STEVENSON

I'm sorry ma'am, but I do believe you mistakenly thought this spaghetti squash was yours.

WOMAN

What the hell's a spaghetti squash, that's my cantaloupe!

JIM STEVENSON

It's a spaghetti squash, and I got it.

(The woman puts the grocery line wand back where it was. Jim Stevenson puts it back. The woman lifts the wand and begins beating Jim Stevenson with it while yelling, "I'ma spaghetti squash you!")

ANNOUNCER

This is the story of how Jim "Cool Cat" Stevenson became a grandfather.

(Very quickly, mimed: a young Jim Stevenson and a woman have sex; a little boy grows up; he has sex.)

ANNOUNCER

This is the story of how his best friend, Jim "Jimbo" Stevenson became a great grandfather around the same time.

TEENAGE GIRL ON PHONE

I can't. I have to go to my grandmother's wedding.

OTHER TEENAGE GIRL

The one in the retirement home?

ANNOUNCER

This is the story of why Jim Stevenson son of Mark and Debbie has trust issues with women.

LITTLE GIRL

She checked yes as a joke, loser!

(much girl giggling)

ANNOUNCER

This is the story of why Jim Stevenson son of Michael and Donna likes boys.

(Beat.)

ANNOUNCER

This is the story of the best day of Jim "Cool Cat" Stevenson's life, which is notably similar to the best days of Jim Stevenson Two, Four, Five and Six's lives.

(Old Jim Stevenson sits on a bench outdoors, smiling.)

LITTLE BOY’S VOICE

Granddad, let's wrestle!

(Old Jim Stevenson's smile transforms into a terrified expression as he looks off toward what’s coming.)