Just Like Shampoo: A Play In One Act
***WARNING: If you are a boy and are about to read this post, do not be alarmed. Women are not obsessed with finding a husband, but every once in a while, being surrounded by engagement rings and catering discussions and Maclaren strollers and rising real estate prices combined with a lack of viable dating options leads one to this sort of thinking...
Cast of characters:
Girl 1 - Single woman, late 20s
Girl 2 - Another single woman, late 20s, appears only as the voice of reason via e-mail, the masterful communication tool through which we in the aughts keep in touch and learn societal mores.
Tom, Dick or Harry - A boy, Girl 1 has daydreamed about him, hooked up with him, dated him, considered marrying him, imagined him as a father, imagined all the fun involved in making him a father, or any combination of the above. No real relationship required. In this case, he lives in New York, Philadelphia, or Boston.
Scene I: In da club...
Girl 1, in overpriced jeans and a tank top belying the freezing temperatures outside, teeters on heels while dancing with friends, consuming many gin and tonics and making eyes at various boys, none of whom return the favor, except the skeevy ones whose eyes she accidentally catches and then has to avoid all night. Tired and remarkably buzzed, girl 1 and her friends leave the club, say their goodbyes, and she begins the long walk home. We begin to hear her thoughts aloud...
Block 1
Girl 1: "That place was fun... I can't believe they played the Humpty Dance! [Sings part of the Humpty Dance to herself walking to the beat] 'A doooorooo dooorooo, a doooorooo dooorooo, aw yeah...' [She wisely stops herself before limping to the side like her legs were broken. Looking like MC Hammer on crack is not attractive.] Hmmm...how many drinks did I have? The beer at home, two g&t's at the first bar, one when we got to the club, then two more... three more? [Stops, thinks, nods] TWO more while dancing, yeah, definitely two, that's five? No, can't be, no... yeah... it was five... [long pause, deep in thought] oh then that one the bartender gave me, and that was it, right? [Purposefully] Right. Not half bad."
Walk, walk, walk... stops at crosswalk.
Girl 1: "Oh yeah, then that beer. Six. [Despite obviously not learning anything from him, she pictures the Count.] Seex, SEEX drinks, ah ah ah. [Giggles out loud before remembering she's in public and straightening up. Crosswalk changes, she begins walking, starts digging in her purse. She takes out her cell phone and pauses.] Just checking the time. [Riiight.] 2:45. Nice time of morning."
Walk, walk, walk. She's now in a residential neighborhood, cute little homes all tucked in for the night. She starts scrolling through the names in her cell phone, finds Tom, Dick or Harry, and stops.
Girl 1: "The bars are still open in [New York, Philadelphia or Boston]. Maybe I'll just call and leave a message. [Stares at phone as if it will give her the answer.] No that's dumb, you know what happens when you do that. [Horrifying images of bad past voice mail messages leave her paralyzed.]
Two more blocks, phone goes in and out of purse at least 157 times. She stares down the houses around her, wondering when, IF, she'll ever have a place that really feels like home.
Girl 1: "Just one little message..." [Hits send. Look of hopefulness mixed with desire to pass out crosses her face. With each passing ring, she grows more and more disappointed that he doesn't pick up, and then she hears his voice mail... she tries to sound sexy, but mainly just sounds drunk.] "Hey [Tom, Dick or Harry], it's me, just calling to say hi, see what you're up to this lovely weekend. Give a buzz if you get a chance."
She hangs up, convinced she sounded like a moron. A few minutes later, she's peaceful in bed, snuggled with a pillow, still wearing her makeup.
Scene II: The next morning...
Girl 1 arises, looking a little worn, but so comfy in her bed. Bed has never been a better place than after a night of cheesy dancing and gin. She has no recollection of calling Tom, Dick, or for that matter, Harry. She gets up and cleans up the wreckage of last night's rush to bed, clothing everywhere, the random hanger that she slept with but didn't realize was there, the pre-party beer bottle left on her dresser, gets a glass of water and drifts back to sleep.
Scene III: Two days later, the office...
That satisfying g-mail ding draws Girl 1 away from her diligent effort at that TPS report. She sees that the e-mail is from TDoH and her eyes widen.
Girl 1: Oh noooooooooooooooooo! I did call him. [She swallows hard, digs out her phone, and checks the outgoing calls list.] Girl 2, Girl Friday, Mom and Dad, Little bro, Fellow Giants Fan, and, ugh, TDoH. Heartbreaking.
Girl 1: [Reads e-mail, Suddenly looking cheery...] His e-mail seems nice, maybe this will be different, maybe he does want something more than the random drunk dial, maybe he realizes that we're meant to be too!! [And she writes back with this in mind. Kinda flirty, kinda not, when she's not drinking she is sort of good at this! He writes back, and finally, she needs to tell Girl 2.
The following conversation takes place via e-mail, Date: Any given Tuesday, Subject: [New York, Philadelphia or Boston] is nice this time of year, right?]
Girl 1: I've been e-mailing with TDoH.
Girl 2: GIRL1!!!!!! WHAT are you doing?
Girl 1: I don't know. I haven't met anyone else, what if he's it?
Girl 2: He's not it, you would know that by now. And it would be much easier than this, or so people say, not that it's ever felt easy, but...
Girl 1: [Bordering on toddler-esque temper tantrum] But WHYYYYYYYYYYY?!?!?! WHY can't he be it? It's way easier than meeting new people! [v. proud of her brilliant argument.]
Girl 2: No one knows, but we do know that it is very bad to waste your time on boys who are so clearly not the one. It takes time away from your real life where you will meet the one. [And then she pulls out the big guns. She quotes Marie.] All I'm saying is that somewhere out there is the man you are supposed to marry. And if you don't get him first, somebody else will, and you'll have to spend the rest of your life knowing that somebody else is married to your husband.
Girl 1: That would suck. Drinks next week?
Girl 1 capitulates and gives up trying to plan her trip to New York, Philadelphia or Boston, but points out to TDoH that flights between here and there are awfully cheap right now.
He never writes back. Lather, rinse, repeat. Epilogue.
Cast of characters:
Girl 1 - Single woman, late 20s
Girl 2 - Another single woman, late 20s, appears only as the voice of reason via e-mail, the masterful communication tool through which we in the aughts keep in touch and learn societal mores.
Tom, Dick or Harry - A boy, Girl 1 has daydreamed about him, hooked up with him, dated him, considered marrying him, imagined him as a father, imagined all the fun involved in making him a father, or any combination of the above. No real relationship required. In this case, he lives in New York, Philadelphia, or Boston.
Scene I: In da club...
Girl 1, in overpriced jeans and a tank top belying the freezing temperatures outside, teeters on heels while dancing with friends, consuming many gin and tonics and making eyes at various boys, none of whom return the favor, except the skeevy ones whose eyes she accidentally catches and then has to avoid all night. Tired and remarkably buzzed, girl 1 and her friends leave the club, say their goodbyes, and she begins the long walk home. We begin to hear her thoughts aloud...
Block 1
Girl 1: "That place was fun... I can't believe they played the Humpty Dance! [Sings part of the Humpty Dance to herself walking to the beat] 'A doooorooo dooorooo, a doooorooo dooorooo, aw yeah...' [She wisely stops herself before limping to the side like her legs were broken. Looking like MC Hammer on crack is not attractive.] Hmmm...how many drinks did I have? The beer at home, two g&t's at the first bar, one when we got to the club, then two more... three more? [Stops, thinks, nods] TWO more while dancing, yeah, definitely two, that's five? No, can't be, no... yeah... it was five... [long pause, deep in thought] oh then that one the bartender gave me, and that was it, right? [Purposefully] Right. Not half bad."
Walk, walk, walk... stops at crosswalk.
Girl 1: "Oh yeah, then that beer. Six. [Despite obviously not learning anything from him, she pictures the Count.] Seex, SEEX drinks, ah ah ah. [Giggles out loud before remembering she's in public and straightening up. Crosswalk changes, she begins walking, starts digging in her purse. She takes out her cell phone and pauses.] Just checking the time. [Riiight.] 2:45. Nice time of morning."
Walk, walk, walk. She's now in a residential neighborhood, cute little homes all tucked in for the night. She starts scrolling through the names in her cell phone, finds Tom, Dick or Harry, and stops.
Girl 1: "The bars are still open in [New York, Philadelphia or Boston]. Maybe I'll just call and leave a message. [Stares at phone as if it will give her the answer.] No that's dumb, you know what happens when you do that. [Horrifying images of bad past voice mail messages leave her paralyzed.]
Two more blocks, phone goes in and out of purse at least 157 times. She stares down the houses around her, wondering when, IF, she'll ever have a place that really feels like home.
Girl 1: "Just one little message..." [Hits send. Look of hopefulness mixed with desire to pass out crosses her face. With each passing ring, she grows more and more disappointed that he doesn't pick up, and then she hears his voice mail... she tries to sound sexy, but mainly just sounds drunk.] "Hey [Tom, Dick or Harry], it's me, just calling to say hi, see what you're up to this lovely weekend. Give a buzz if you get a chance."
She hangs up, convinced she sounded like a moron. A few minutes later, she's peaceful in bed, snuggled with a pillow, still wearing her makeup.
Scene II: The next morning...
Girl 1 arises, looking a little worn, but so comfy in her bed. Bed has never been a better place than after a night of cheesy dancing and gin. She has no recollection of calling Tom, Dick, or for that matter, Harry. She gets up and cleans up the wreckage of last night's rush to bed, clothing everywhere, the random hanger that she slept with but didn't realize was there, the pre-party beer bottle left on her dresser, gets a glass of water and drifts back to sleep.
Scene III: Two days later, the office...
That satisfying g-mail ding draws Girl 1 away from her diligent effort at that TPS report. She sees that the e-mail is from TDoH and her eyes widen.
Girl 1: Oh noooooooooooooooooo! I did call him. [She swallows hard, digs out her phone, and checks the outgoing calls list.] Girl 2, Girl Friday, Mom and Dad, Little bro, Fellow Giants Fan, and, ugh, TDoH. Heartbreaking.
Girl 1: [Reads e-mail, Suddenly looking cheery...] His e-mail seems nice, maybe this will be different, maybe he does want something more than the random drunk dial, maybe he realizes that we're meant to be too!! [And she writes back with this in mind. Kinda flirty, kinda not, when she's not drinking she is sort of good at this! He writes back, and finally, she needs to tell Girl 2.
The following conversation takes place via e-mail, Date: Any given Tuesday, Subject: [New York, Philadelphia or Boston] is nice this time of year, right?]
Girl 1: I've been e-mailing with TDoH.
Girl 2: GIRL1!!!!!! WHAT are you doing?
Girl 1: I don't know. I haven't met anyone else, what if he's it?
Girl 2: He's not it, you would know that by now. And it would be much easier than this, or so people say, not that it's ever felt easy, but...
Girl 1: [Bordering on toddler-esque temper tantrum] But WHYYYYYYYYYYY?!?!?! WHY can't he be it? It's way easier than meeting new people! [v. proud of her brilliant argument.]
Girl 2: No one knows, but we do know that it is very bad to waste your time on boys who are so clearly not the one. It takes time away from your real life where you will meet the one. [And then she pulls out the big guns. She quotes Marie.] All I'm saying is that somewhere out there is the man you are supposed to marry. And if you don't get him first, somebody else will, and you'll have to spend the rest of your life knowing that somebody else is married to your husband.
Girl 1: That would suck. Drinks next week?
Girl 1 capitulates and gives up trying to plan her trip to New York, Philadelphia or Boston, but points out to TDoH that flights between here and there are awfully cheap right now.
He never writes back. Lather, rinse, repeat. Epilogue.
posted by lunchbox at 3:08 PM
2 Comments:
Man, Bitches crazy....
Whatever, you totally laughed at the Humpty Dance joke.
Post a Comment
<< Home