a guy and a girl and a dream
Man: I’m looking for love, that’s no minor thing.
Woman: Who said it is?
M: Or was.
W: Or did.
M: You know that moment, when you can tell, the other person.  They understand, they hear, they speak the same…?
W: Frequency.
M: Yes exactly.
W: No.
M: Me neither.
W: What do you want?
M: (moving about) I want love!  What’s wrong with that?  What’s so hard to believe?
W: Those are two very different questions.
M: You want to know what I want?  (singing)  “All my love is all I have…”
W: “And my dreams are very special.”
M: Okay, see why do you go and say that?  It just turns me on.
W: You ever think there’s more on my mind than turning you on?
M: Of course, that’s why I’m so turned on.
W: That’s pretty forward.
M: I’m normally a very shy individual.  I mean, take shy, and multiply it a few times, that’s me.  We’re talking…
W: …exponential.
M: I’ve wanted all my life to find the perfect one.  Of course, who hasn’t?  But, I…
Suddenly gets depressed.  Starts retreat.
W: No, I understand.  It’s not about perfection.  It’s about imperfection.  Your own.
M: Like wanting a relationship with God.
W: Yes.  Never meeting him.
M: Supposing he exists.
W: Yes.
She goes to him.
M: Soft, she goes to me.
W: Were it that easy.
M: Proximity, never been my problem.  Granted, magnetic forces are still strong.  Only, unfortunately they’re magnetically repelling.  But the electrostatic forces.
W: The ones that count.
M: Yes, the chemical ones.
W: The beautiful ones.
M: The weaker ones.
W: Then the forces we place on ourselves, yes.
M: But these come from ourselves, we must…
He gets depressed.
W: I know it’s tiring.  Feel like we’ve only so much time.
M: Don’t we?
W: I know.
She gets depressed.
M: You know, I’ve heard that women like to have sex too.  Is this true?
W: I’ve heard it.
M: What about you?
W: No such thing as sex exclusive.
M: Sure, what about a party for one?
W: No, I mean, sex always comes with baggage.  Sex is a squatter.  And you knew what I meant.
M: Of course, and you know I knew, and we know.  We know.
W: Sex is never removed.  And it shouldn’t be.
M: Yes, sex is best when it’s connected.
M moves away.
M: I was connected once.
W: Were you?
M: You haven’t been?  Oh it’s wonderful.  It’s true, unlike claims to sex…  No, sex lives up to it’s advertising.
W: Well, it can.
M: I assume.
W: Assume?
M: I don’t know, I don’t know how much you know.  I know, I know nothing for sure.
W: Oh I see.
M: I had a girlfriend for a couple of years.
W: 3 months.
M: You’re longest?
W: With a human?  Yes.
M: Need I ask?
W: Cats.
M: Of course.
W: Fuck, so little time.
M: For us?
W: I don’t know, I just feel it.
M: Like a dream…  where you wake up, and then try to go back to sleep, because it’s so warm and inviting, or exciting.  And you can get back into it, but you know, you’ve woken up, you’ll wake up again soon.
W: Hold me.
M: Thank god you asked.
Man holds woman.  They sit down holding, laying against a wall.
W: I don’t want to die.
M: Nobody does.
W: I want to live.
M: Sure.
W: I want to live… with you.
M: Okay, see, now you’re not even paying attention to what you’re saying.
W: You’re right, I’m falling into a script.
M: You’ve been hurt that way before?
Long pause.
W: Shouldn’t you make some smart ass remark?
M: For your sake?
W: Yes, alleviate the tension.
M: I’m a drug addict.
W: Okay.
M: Either that or I’m neurotic.
W: Well, let’s see.  Freebase?
M: No.
W: Crack?  Heroin?  Coke?
M: Sorry.
W: Well, anything else isn’t a drug addiction.
M: Well, I’ve been doing it for quite a while.
W: Even more proof.  Yes, you may have an addiction.  But addiction, please, who do you know doesn’t have an addiction.  But a drug addiction?  Drug addicts no matter where they start, they all follow the same route, and it always leads to same place.
M: That proves nothing.
W: Well, do you want to keep talking about the subject?
M: Not particularly.  But I bring it up for one reason.
W: What?
M: I’d give it up for love.  In a heartbeat.  Of course, I don’t really suspect the one I love to expect me to give it up.
W: Oh?
M: I love my mother.
W: I suspected you would.
M: Oh something about me?
W: No just something about people.
M: Oh.  Anyway, I love most the way she approaches love.  Not everything, but love yes.  She loves unconditionally.  Simple as that.
W: That is quite simple.
M: But this has nothing to do with how one acts.
W: Necessarily.
M: I know, question to be gone over again later.
W: If there is a later.
M: Which there will not be.
Both get depressed.  Separate.
M: Anyway, my point was that she had a simple system, which I’ve revised a bit to come up with four essential truths to a good relationship.
W: Oh?
M: Yes, now if you give me a second I’ll try to remember them.
W: Alright.
M: Honesty is one.
W: Yes.
M: Cause really?  Why do we need to lie in this culture?
W: I thought you said you did drugs.
M: Oh…  Right, I guess pot is still considered illegal.
W: That’s it?  You smoke pot?
M: You smoke?
W: No, but that’s like complaining about chewing your fingernails too much.
M: Now that’s the kind of perspective I like.
W: Honesty.  What else?
M: Oh um, benevolence.
W: Makes sense.
M: Ah, generosity.  But!  Hold on, there’s a thing about that one, it’s the last one…  Hold on, there’s another.  Ah…  Come on, come on…  Fuck.
W: Trust?
M: No…  um…  I mean, of course, trust, but that’s assumed.  Actually, doesn’t really apply to this rubric.  Christ, something about reciprocity.
Man sits down.
M: I’m getting tired.
W: Would you like comfort?
He looks at her, she goes and comforts him.
M: I want to comfort you too, you know that?  I don’t love my mother because she did everything for me.  She did.  And she taught me something in it.   I want to do everything back, and I will, to my children, and my wife, or my lover.  Or, the person next to me.  If I can.  But I can’t always.  I don’t feel like I can, like I should.  Like I could.
W: Why?
M: We haven’t yet talked about fathers.  Anyway, he… he’s got some philosophies I agree with.  Just like I disagree with some of my mother’s…  I’m talking too much about myself.  Like you said, we’ve only so much time.
W: I can comfort you, easily, with my touch.  My arm travels faster than the sound of myself.  Who knows if I’ll ever have the time to tell you.
M: But hope for it.
W: Exactly.
M: Fight for every moment.
Gets up out of his seat.
M: I’m waking up.
W: Good.
M: Now what?
W: Oh come on, it’s been only…
Looks at watch.
W: Well I don’t have a very good concept of time.
M: We’re perfect…
W: For…
M: Traveling the world, no jetlag.  Not that I travel.
W: But you want to?
M: Yes.  Badly.
W: Where do you want to go.
M: Will you go with me?
W: You mean right now?
M: Of course, I don’t want to burden you with thoughts of future realities.  Just the fancies of the moment.
W: Oh what a wonderful life.
M: Yes, and to get it without drugs or art or music.  Now is that a fair grouping?
W: “To get it from a person.”  That’s what you want to say.
M: Yes.
W: Nothing more common to man, then need for the common man…
M: You’re losing it.
W: I am.  I’m getting tired.
M: Perhaps a rest?
W: Oh sure, we rest, and then what?  We wake up?  You think it will be easy to fall back asleep, do you?
M: Hmm, no I guess not.
W: Alright then.
M: Do you want to smoke some pot?
W: No.  But you can.
M: No, I don’t alone.  See, that’s what’s fine, no, good, about you.  I don’t need to smoke, it’s a place I can go to, when I don’t like the place I’m at, but if I’m in an even better place, why would I want to?  Granted, you can put both places together, it’s great, trust me.  BUT, peanut butter and jam, taste great together, and separately, equally.
W: I don’t like either, personally.
M: Oh thank god, me neither.  This is just an anology.
W: Of course.
M: Anyway, did I just say I don’t smoke alone?  What I meant to say is, I don’t smoke when in company of others who are not smoking.  I don’t want to be the guy who has to be high to function with the real world.  The real world has got its benefits too, even sober.  Sometimes.  I kinda like to run the border though.
Long pause.
M: I’m thinking, I’m talking to much.
W: I’m thinking, I’m not talking enough.
M: No, don’t worry.
W: We don’t have to be talking to be alive.  I know.  We can even exist in silence.
Short pause.
W: But only so long.
Long pause.  He holds her.
M: I want to kiss you.
W: You can.
He turns her face to his, but she immediately shies away, he only gets to kiss some part of her head.
W: You do realize I’m averting my eyes not my lips, but they seem connected.
M: You kidding me?  It’s taking every impulse in my body not to retreat right now.  We shouldn’t try this yet.
W: I agree.  Because the first kiss…
M: Is an end in itself.
W: And time is short.
M: Exactly.
Woman walks around.
W: My mother was a bitch.
M: Really?
W: mm.
M: Father?
W: Wouldn’t call him a bitch, per se.  More like an asshole.
M: Ah, I hear that.
W: But I have good grandparents.
M: Really?  See, I don’t get old people, my grandparents have been nonexistent—mostly dead—my entire life.  I had a neighbor who was old, but still, not enough exposure to get over the smell and habits of the old.  Just like babies.  Or working in sewage.  I suppose you eventually get used to it.
W: Yeah, well, have you ever had “grandma’s cookies?”
M: No.
W: Nothing too special about them.  Except, they’re from grandma.
M: Is that supposed to mean something to me?
W: No.
M: Good.
short pause.
W: I like affection too.
M: Really?
W: Yes, my grandparents were affectionate people.  I also had many pets.
M: Besides cats?
W: Actually never had a cat until recently.
M: Strange.  My childhood was nothing but me and my cat.  My adulthood, me and my cat.  Sad really.
W: Is it?
M: I don’t know.
W: Anyway, I do like affection.
M: Then why did you shy from my kiss?
W: The operative word…
M: What shy?
W: I’m shy.
M: You’re not shy I’m shy.  We can’t both be shy.
W: Why not?
M: Well, then how could we have even started talking?
W: Degrees of shyness.
M: Okay, who’s more shy?
W: I don’t know.  But you are starting to annoy me.
Man retreats immediately, looks for an exit.
M: I’ve had enough.
W: What the hell?
M: I know, this isn’t serious.  I’m just.  I don’t want to annoy you.  I’ll just give a taste, so far I haven’t said anything too embarrassing or incriminating.  I mean, who knows, probably have, remember, can’t trust myself.  Let’s exchange information, then I’ll be on my way, and we’ll meet again.
W: When?
M: I’ve no life.  Tomorrow even.  Tonight.  Every night.  Next time, though, for sure.  Right now, there’s a next time.  Fairly confident.  I keep talking…
W: You think there will be a next time?
M: Okay, there goes confidence completely now.
Man starts searching the stage.
W: What are you looking for?
M: A gun.
W: Let me explain first about the annoying comment.
M: What?
W: I don’t dislike annoying people.
Man stops; looks at her in disbelief.
W: That is to say, what annoys most people to the point of exasperation or distaste even, doesn’t really bother me.  Or rather, doesn’t distract me too much if there’s something worth hearing behind it.
M: I see, cause you’ve had to put up with it?
W: You can imagine a bitch and an asshole to be quite annoying, can’t you?
M: Of course.  We should see if we’re compatible.
W: I think so.
M: Do you like musicals?
W: Some.
M: Favorites?
W: Guys and Dolls.
M: Good one.
W: Singing in the Rain.
M: Good but not as applicable.
W: And what, you’re Sky Masterston?
M: Maybe not, but I do do a mean “Luck be a Lady.”
W: Really?
M: Mmm, and I suspect you’d do a great Sara Brown.  You know, someone should remake Guys and Dolls except “with a modern day twist,” you know with thugs and strippers and gangsta rap music.  I’d only trust Dr. Dre for producing the music.  Eminem as Sky Masterson.  Snoop as Nathan Detroit.  Oh, this is too good.  Someone good, like Trina, as the chorus girl – i.e. stripper.  And lil’ mo can be Sara Brown.  Except instead of a missionary, she’s a gospel singer.  As for the art direction and what not…  I’d have to leave that to Dre and that guy he does all of his videos with…  Phillip Atwell.  They did a pretty good job with eminem’s video when I was watching them on Behind the Music.
Stops.
M: I’m sorry, I just get on these ideas.
W: What do you do?
M: Student.  For now, as long as I can hold on to it.  You?
W: Same.
M: How old are you?
W: 21.
M: Younger?
W: Yes, why?
M: I never expected it, that’s all.  I’m usually attracted to older women…  I mean, like 25.
W: How old are you?
M: Exactly 23.  Today in fact.
W: Coincidence?
M: Merely incidence.
W: I feel time tugging.
M: Me too.
W: keep going, “we got to keep talking, if we’re gonna to make it.”
M: You really like cliché movie dialogue.
W: You kidding?  How could you not?
M: Oh, whatever.
W: Please.
M: No, no, I don’t think so.
W: Whatever.
M: Alright, miss thang, what has crawled up your but?
W: Like, no, I don’t think--I know--you did not just call me: “miss thang.”  Alright?  You understand me?
M: Whateva.  Okay, okay, now peep this.  This is how it’s going to be.
W: Oh, you are going to tell me how its going to be?
M: Yes, Miss Thang, this is how it’s going to be.
Pause.
M: Do you think this is racist on some level?
W: Not if you bring up racism as a topic.  As soon as it enters the leitmotif, it’s fair game to do anything.
M: Even, showing the klu klux klan as being the saviors of the south?
W: ESPECIALLY if you show the klu klux klan as being saviors for the south.
M: The point is can we be minstrels?
W: Yes, as soon as you said the word “minstrel” it protected everything that preceded it as satire—politically correct satire, no less.  You’re fine, don’t worry.
M: Good.  I want to have sex.
W: Don’t we all?
M: I already asked that.
W: So you did.
M: Are we going to?
W: Haven’t you already asked?
M: No.
W: Must be because you’ve had some decorum until now.
M: Oh shit.
W: Now don’t shrink away on me.
Man stands erect.
M: Is this what you want?  Dominant male.  Come my woman, follow me around the cave.
Starts walking around, she follows.  He stops, she walks past him.
M: Okay, no you lead.
She stops, as she doesn’t know where to go.  Then she decides.
M: No, no, not that way.
She turns to him.
M: Not so easy is it to be the leader?  Followers can easily lose their way.  I am sheep.  Baa baa baa.
He starts braying and acting sheep-like around the place.  Every time she comes to him, he sheepishly brays and moves away.  He is in a corner.  She tries a slower approach, humming a tune which he recognizes.
M: Lambert the sheepish lion.
W: Lambert there’s no denyin’
M: mmm, hmm… damn I don’t know the words.
Guy starts to leave.
W: Where are you going?
M: I’m just going to look them up.
W: No, don’t leave.
M: But I’ll be right back.
W: But that will be later, what about now?  Remember?  You said something about having the unreality of now.  I can’t bet on reality of later.
M: I’ll be right back, I’m just going to my computer to look it up.
W: But I can’t go with you right now to your computer.
M: I wouldn’t expect you to.
W: You’ll get distracted.
M: No, don’t worry, I’ll be right back.
W: Can’t you understand that I can’t have you leave right now?
M: Okay, okay.  Jesus.
He stays they wait on the ground.  He gets up violently.
M: What the hell is there “no denyin’” about?
W: What?
M: Lambert, that damn sheepish lion.  You know what?  I remembered some other things… 
Looks up.
M: What the hell?
Stops sits in a corner.
M: I didn’t get it till now.  But that’s it, I tell myself I want love badly, but then things like this, I leave when I should stay.  Lots of people ask you to go, few people ask you to stay.  Oh Sarah.
W: Yes Sky?
He gets up, and performs the entire “Luck be a Lady” scene.  Starts to get confidence.  Dances with her.  Ends with her dipped over knee.
M: Oh Sara.
W: Yes?
He starts singing
M: Lambert the sheepish lion
Lambert there’s no denying
Sarah, that baby I love you.
W: That works for me.
M: So can we finally drop curtain, I am so very very tired.  Do you believe that life goes on after the curtain falls?
W: Yes, and even if it doesn’t, at least we had the unreality of the moment.
Curtain falls. End.
Curtain raises.  Man and woman in bed, man turns off TV in disgust.
M: I hate sitcoms, the men always take such bullshit.  Man this whole culture is full of bullshit, makes my acid reflux.
W: What bullshit?
M: The wife, she played that fucking game on him just to get him to admit he was wrong.  I mean, I know, sitcoms are anything without their contrived situations, but still.
W: But he was wrong.
M: And that’s any reason to trick him?  To play this mindgame on him?
W: Oh please women do it every day.
Man, looks at her in horror, grabs sheets.
W: You are kidding me, right?
M: You don’t play games do you?
W: Me, no.  But most women do.
M: Mmm, hmm, like “most women fake orgasms, not me honey.  Oh! Oh! Yes, ride me great stallion!”
W: Come on.
M: That’s just an example, I know your orgasms are real…  I mean, I assume, if not, it will shatter my every conception.
W: They are, don’t worry Stallion.
M: Don’t toy with me…  Are you toying with me?
W: Jesus.
M: No, I know, if I start looking for anything, assuming it’s bad, I will find it.  I’m sorry.
W: It’s okay.
M: But do you think what this woman did was right?
Pause.
W: How is that question any better than your average “let’s do the cosmo quiz together”?  It’s entrapment, plain and simple, I thought you disliked that.
M: I do…  Don’t you?
W: Leading me as you do…
M: Well, leading is one thing, but artful dodging…  That makes me most querulous.  No, not querulous…  Query-something though.
W: And meanderment?
M: Oh I love meanderment.  Meander me to your own merriment.
W: Side jaunts.
M: Mmm, down woodsy trails.
W: Green trees.
M: Tall grass.
W: rabbits and squirrels.
M: And magic berries.
W: So telling.
M: Wha?  Okay, see your not normally this passive aggressive.  Who opened this door?
W: What?
M: Magic berries…  So telling…  Drugs…  My pot use?  Come on, I told you my philosophy.
W: Oh please, not the philosophy again.
M: No, it’s important, eventually you need to be able to say “statute 1, paragraph 3, third article: ‘the.’”  You should know it by heart.
W: Do you?  No don’t answer that, you’ll go off into recitation.  Then I’ll need resuscitation.
M: I like em saucy.  Saucy is fun, it’s like the rabbits and the squirrels dancing in the forest.  But the fact is, the underlying question has not been addressed.
W: And I say, the question buried underneath is: Are you ever going to trust me?  Trust us.  Trust that our relationship is real, and true, and…
M: (laughs) Of course, not.  Come on, who do you think you’re talking to.
W: Exactly.
M: But you know I don’t trust anything.  Everything is suspect.  and circumspect.  And introspect.  And Extospect and ectoplasm and mitochondrial DNA.
W: Alright, fine.  I’ll smoke with you.
M: You will?
W: No.
M: Good.
W: Really?
M: Not THAT good.  But I like you strong-willed.  You can be the rock, I can be the slightly out of phase specter.
W: I don’t want to be the rock.  I’m the woman.
M: Definitely that article right there.  “The” woman.  Shouldn’t you say “a” woman.  As this is very much not atypical.  Okay, we might as well go all the way then.  Me tarzan you jane.  Let’s fuck for the next 10 minutes, so I can be satisfied and watch the game and drink beer and falls asleep in bed in my wife-beater, stained enumerously with BIG YELLOW BLOTCHES AND SWEAT STAINS GALORE!
W: Tired yet?
M: Very.
She turns off the light.  In dark.
M: So…  Do you agree that what the woman did…
Lights on.  Woman gets up out of bed.  Man is shocked.
W: This ceases to be cute.  Lights go off, curtain falls, end of scene.
M: Well, I’m sorry, I get all frustrated some times.  You know that.
W: So what, you need a blowjob or a blunt?
M: Both would be nice.  But first…
W: Why do you want me so badly to answer your question.
M: Alright, let’s start with why you so badly do not wan to answer that question.
W: If withholding was an admission of guilt, then we’d run out of politicians.
M: And the world would collapse.  Yes, but let’s get back into perspective.  Follow me here.  Earth, America, this city, this house, these two people, one asks a question.  The sound travels through the cosmos.  Radio waves spell out “do you agree with what that woman did… did… did…”
W: And the universe answers back?
M: Alright so I have some compulsive tendencies.
Starts singing.  “sue me, sue me.”  Stands up sings to her, gets her to come to bed, turns of light.  After a few moments:
W: Alright, here’s the deal.  I’m a woman.  You are a man.  I could have said something else, but enough with cheap shots.
M: Yes please, especially the sneaky ones.  Remember I was wading in trenches of subtext since I was a child.  Don’t think you’ll get even an inflection past me.
W: Arrogant aren’t we?
M: Yes, we are.  Let’s stop here though.  I learned something last relationship, never fight in bed, unless it’s involving leather.
W: Leather?
M: I wish.
Pause.
W: Let’s do it right now.  It’ll be theraputic.  I’ve got lots of leather here.
M: Okay.
W: Alright.  I’m going now.
M: Can’t wait.
W: What time is it?
Looks to bed clock.  Both are barely moving.
W: Just checking.  Okay.
M: You want help out of bed?
W: Yes please.
M: Okay.
Shifts about.  Pushes on her back.
M: I don’t think this is what you mean.
W: No.
M: Okay, well sit up, so that way when I come around the bed I’ll be able to pull your hand.
W: Okay, I’ll start getting up as you start circling.
M: I don’t want to circle if you aren’t sitting.
W: I’ll sit, but I ain’t sitting till you start standing.
M: Makes sense.  I guess I should be the first to get up…
W: Good.
M: Though this wasn’t my idea.
W: But who wants it more.
Sits up quickly looks at her with same horror from before, turns on light.
M: Who are you?
W: Come on, it was just a fitting line.
M: Well, whatever happened to lights down, curtain down, show over?
W: The curtain ain’t falling till we fall asleep.
M: And in the morning?
W: Everything will look different.
M: Yes, that’s what I’m afraid of.  Maybe this is true clarity.  Maybe everything looks better in the morning cause your eyes just haven’t adjusted yet, your mind’s been defragged, your bios rebooted.  But the night before you had every part of the equation nearly figured out.  You thought you’d sleep on it.  But you never write it down, do you?  Because you’re just too sleepy…
W: Remember when I said I liked how you talked more than me?
M: Yes.
W: I assumed.
M: Fuck you.
W: Excuse me?
She gets out of bed.
M: Oh you know what I mean.  Oh wait.  Please I’m sorry.  That was callous and not in the least bit artful.  I know you appreciate artfulness.  I’m sorry.
She gets back in bed.
M: You know, you could have gotten the leather while you were up.
W: Why so you could fuck me?
M: I wish.
W: Go ahead.
He looks to her, she’s laying motionless.  He gets up quickly, starts for the door, stops and sees she’s in the same position looking up.
M: Oh this isn’t good.
W: What?
M: What you’re planning.
W: What am I planning?
M: Look at you, motionless like our bed’s a sarcophagus.  And I’m not sure if you’re a simulacrum or what.  I can’t kiss those lips.
W: Why not?
M: Because I’m not into necrophilia.
W: I’m dead to you?
M: No, but I don’t want you to be.
W: Look didn’t you say you wanted to fuck?
M: There it is.
He returns calmly to his bed side, sits up so as not to look to her.
M: What are we to do now?
W: You mean besides fuck or sleep?
M: Yes.
She gets up in bed, they are back to back.
W: I don’t know.
M: It hasn’t been very long, who’s to say if there’s any clarity at this stage.  Endorphins and what not.  Seeing what one wants to see.
W: I want to die.
M: Me too.
W: Kill me.
M: Then who will kill me?
W: Come on, we’re no hobos without a suede belt to hang ourselves with.
M: Yes this is all logistics.
W: Development stage.
M: Exactly, the important thing is we both know that we both want to die.
W: Yes.
M: Now, a plan of action.
W: Mm, I guess so.  (yawns)  Um, brainstorm.  You first.
M: Uh… okay…  asphyxiation.  That’s it.  It’s genius, we’ll make a chain of Chinese fingertraps and put nooses on each end.  Thus when we come in to kiss it will loosen, but when we pull apart it will tighten.  Then we’ll fuck and die and cum in the bliss of erotic asphyxiation.  If one passes out, and lands on the other, then the traps will loosen, and if either of us wakes up, we’ll go at it again, till we both die.
W: How about this.  Punch me.
M: What?
W: Right now, in the side.
M: Seriously?
W: No!  But that’s what I want right now.
M: Seriously fucking will solve that.
W: Just like waking.
M: Oh don’t tell me you are actually listening to me now.
W: It’s true, maybe this is clarity.  Maybe the morning light is just to blind you into starting over.
M: Fuck.
They both lie back in bed.  Curtain falls.