LIGHTS UP
EXT. PARK— GLOOMY DAY
A WOMAN, 30, sits alone on a park bench. She stares ahead. Something in her eyes tells us she’s been through it. Both her beauty and her sadness are stunning.
A MAN, handsome, same age, same look on his face, sits on his own bench, stage right, off behind the woman’s.
He stares at the back of the woman’s head for a few seconds, and then stands up.
Now standing, he stares for a few more beats and then steps forward. Very slowly, he makes a move toward the woman. He steps in front of the bench she’s sitting on and looks off into the distance.
The woman notices him. He stands directly in front of her giving her his back.
The man shifts his weight from one side of his body to the other. He’s clearly trying to get her attention.
At first she tries to ignore him, but it’s too obvious.
WOMAN: Can I help you with something?
MAN: I don’t know. Maybe. Can I ask you a couple questions?
WOMAN: No. Go away.
MAN: It won’t take long.
WOMAN: Get out of here.
MAN: I just want to talk to you for a second.
WOMAN: Well, I don’t want to talk to you?
MAN: Why not?
WOMAN: Because I don’t.
MAN: Well, that’s not cool.
WOMAN: Oh, it’s not cool?
MAN: I haven’t done anything to you.
WOMAN: You’re creepy.
MAN: Well, that’s not really cool either, is it?
WOMAN: What’s your question?
MAN: Can I sit?
WOMAN: Absolutely not. You cannot sit. What’s your question?
MAN: Why can’t I sit?
WOMAN: Because I don’t want you to sit.
MAN: But if we’re going to have a conversation…
WOMAN: We’re not. You’re gonna ask me a question. Which I’m not too keen about it in the first place. But I’m being polite, so don’t sit. Be courteous, and ask your question standing.
MAN: Well, I’d like to sit. I’d like to sit and have a conversation. I’m not so literal. Everything is not so literal. Someone says I want to ask you a question, it’s like someone else saying I just had a baby. It’s a way to start something. I’d like to sit and have a conversation.
WOMAN: Then, like I said, and another reason I don’t like answering questions, is just that. I don’t want to start something. I don’t care to engage. Do you have a question or not?
MAN: I have a whole shitload of questions. As a matter of fact, you’d be surprised by how many things I’d like to know. It’s seemingly endless. Can I please sit down and talk to you?
WOMAN: Why? I mean, what’s the purpose? I mean, what are we doing anyway? What happens? We sit, we talk. Maybe we even laugh a little bit. It all seems so peaceful and happy. What do you do? Really? I like that band, too. Then what? Give me a break. I know the territory. I’m not in my twenties.
MAN: Neither am I.
WOMAN: I can see that.
MAN: That’s nice.
WOMAN: Do yourself a favor.
MAN: No! Why don’t you do me a favor?
WOMAN: You want to sit and talk?
MAN: Yes, I do.
WOMAN: Well, be my guest. Hope it works out.
MAN: Hope what works out?
WOMAN: Everything. You sitting or not?
MAN: What’s your name?
WOMAN: What difference does it make? I’m the pretty lady in the park.
MAN: Nice to meet you.
The man sits down next to her.
WOMAN: So, what are you doing here?
MAN: I don’t know. I just come here. Not much else to do. Or not much I’d like to be doing. You?
WOMAN: I don’t know.
MAN: I noticed that. I mean, that’s what it looked like, anyway. It’s kind of why I wanted to come talk to you. Do you read? I mean, I ask because you don’t have a book.
WOMAN: You ask if I read because I don’t have a book? I shoot skeet from time to time. Didn’t bring my shotgun either. Yes I read. What do you think I am?
MAN: Well, you don’t have a book.
WOMAN: I don’t have a bowling ball either. What is that?
MAN: I don’t know. People come to the park, they read.
WOMAN: Yeah? Where’s your book?
MAN: That was my point. I don’t have one. Most people do things, you know? I come to sit and think, I guess. Contemplate. Go over stuff. Maybe you’re doing the same.
WOMAN: Well, maybe I am.
MAN: Well, that’s rare is all I’m saying.
WOMAN: That’s ridiculous. People do things when they’re not doing anything all the time. Nothing’s rare about that. What are you trying to do?
MAN: I’m not trying to do anything. I’m simply acknowledging the fact that we’re doing the same thing. You find it to be common, I don’t. No big deal. We’re doing the same thing.
WOMAN: We have so much in common.
MAN: Maybe we do.
WOMAN: Maybe we don’t.
MAN: That’s fine with me, too.
WOMAN: Well, I’m glad. Because I’ll tell you something, life’s not all what it’s cracked up to be.
MAN: You don’t gotta tell me.
WOMAN: Well, sure I do, look at you.
MAN: Excuse me?
WOMAN: You’re here, aren’t you?
MAN: I don’t follow.
WOMAN: You’re ten years old, you want to be a fireman, right?
MAN: No. I didn’t.
WOMAN: Whatever, the point is, you’re not a fireman. I don’t know what you do, but you certainly don’t fight fires and pull cats out of trees. Am I right?
MAN: I don’t do those things. That’s correct.
WOMAN: Okay. So, that’s my point. Stuff just happens the way it does, and that’s that. You can dream all day and you can imagine things up in your head, but it just doesn’t work that way. Am I right?
MAN: Yes.
WOMAN: Okay. So you see a pretty woman in the park, guess what?
MAN: She’s even worse off than you are?
WOMAN: Maybe so. You got it?
MAN: I do.
WOMAN: So, what did you want to ask me?
MAN: I’m gonna leave you alone now.
WOMAN: That’s fine.
The man stands up.
MAN: It was nice chatting with you.
WOMAN: Now, that’s not really true, is it?
The man doesn’t have an answer right away.
MAN: No, not really, but I like to think I carry a certain tact. Like sometimes I want to tell people how stupid I think they are. Or just strangle them, but I don’t. Nice chatting with you. I’d like to see you later, even though I probably won’t.
WOMAN: Would you like to strangle me?
MAN: If you were into that sort of thing, I guess I could be up for it.
The woman sticks her head out.
WOMAN: Be my guest.
The man considers.
MAN: You know what, I don’t have time for you.
WOMAN: And I don’t have time for you. I never did.
MAN: Fuck you.
WOMAN: No, strangle me. Nice tact by the way.
MAN: There is something really wrong with you. You know what?
WOMAN: Tell me about it, I can’t wait.
MAN: I’m a nice guy.
WOMAN: Yeah, well, fuck you, too.
MAN: I apologize for that. I wish I could take it back, but I can’t.
WOMAN: Whatever.
MAN: I was just sitting there. Unhappily just sitting alone. That’s what I do.
WOMAN: Well, I guess I’ll start crying.
MAN: Shut up. Just shut up for a second. I’m a nice person.
WOMAN: You don’t gotta tell me. You ooze sweetness. You’re a prince.
MAN: I try. That’s my point. I didn’t come over here to harrass you. Is that what you think?
WOMAN: I think a lot of things.
MAN: Well, tell me what they are?
WOMAN: I don’t even know you.
MAN: I can imagine that is something you say often.
WOMAN: Listen, you. I didn’t come over there. You came over here. I still don’t know why, but I’ll take a guess.
MAN: To be nice.
WOMAN: Nothing’s nice. Nothing’s what it is. It’s always some dream. Maybe it’s a nice dream, but it never comes true. Intentions are like…
She points at him.
WOMAN: Assholes!
MAN: I had no intentions. And why am I an asshole?
WOMAN: I don’t know. You just are. Just like I’m not a nice person.
MAN: I never said you were.
WOMAN: But you just assumed and that’s my point. You know what? Get out of here. Don’t even sit back down over there. Go home if you have a home. Don’t think here. You’re distracting the people who actually have something to think about. Better yet, go read a book.
MAN: You read a book, you goddamned book reader. You probably got a million stupid bestsellers stacked up on some faux fireplace in your little, repulsive, one-bedroom apartment. Don’t you? Tell me I’m wrong.
WOMAN: Not only are you wrong, but you’re ugly.
MAN: Okay! That I most certainly am not. Now I know you are full of shit. ’Cause guess what?
WOMAN: What?
MAN: I may be miserable.
WOMAN: Indeed.
MAN: I may be contemplating putting a bullet in my head.
WOMAN: Well, welcome to the club.
MAN: But I know one goddamned thing I am not. And that is unattractive.
WOMAN: Really?
MAN: Look me in the eye, and tell me with a straight face that I am not good-looking.
The woman leans in and stares him down.
WOMAN: You are not good-looking.
MAN: LIAR! INCORRECT! The answer is false. You lose.
WOMAN: You want me to tell you why you are wrong?
MAN: Yes. But keep in mind that I am speaking strictly aesthetics here.
WOMAN: Okay, then you’re right. You are just stunning. I mean, it’s hard getting past your striking good looks to see the real depth of your stupidity. You are so stupid.
MAN: I never said I wasn’t. That’s not what we’re talking about here.
WOMAN: Do you really think it works that way?
MAN: Stop changing the subject.
WOMAN: It’s your soul. You have an ugly soul.
MAN: Oh, yeah, and you have an ugly dress.
WOMAN: Now, I know you’re full of shit.
MAN: Oh, you mean that dress is not attractive?
WOMAN: You’re saying it’s not?
MAN: Truth be told, I don’t give a shit, but if you must know, I think you should dye it purple and burn it. This feels great, by the way. I really like you.
WOMAN: You’re not so bad yourself.
MAN: Get up.
WOMAN: Excuse me?
MAN: Get up. You are coming with me. Let’s go get a coffee.
WOMAN: I don’t drink coffee.
MAN: Yes you do. Now get up!
The woman stands up.
BLACK OUT:
LIGHTS UP
INT. COFFEE SHOP—LATE DAY
The man and the woman sit on opposite sides of a table. They each have a cup of coffee.
The woman seems to be looking for something. The man hands her two packets of sugar.
She takes the sugars and pours them into her coffee.
MAN: So, what’s your story?
WOMAN: Long story.
MAN: I bet.
The man just stares at her.
WOMAN: That’s it?
MAN: Excuse me?
WOMAN: You got me here. Please tell me there’s more.
MAN: There’s more.
WOMAN: I mean, I’m giving you a shot here.
MAN: Is that what you think?
WOMAN: I mean, the stare’s just not going to cut it. What do you got? I’m so interested, and at the same time, I will be so disappointed if you’re relying on just your looks.
MAN: This is defense.
WOMAN: You?
MAN: No, you. I ask what your story is and you don’t have anything to say. Defence. You look to me. And for the record, I have no interest in you sexually.
WOMAN: That’s a lie.
MAN: Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t.
WOMAN: So, what’s your story?
MAN: Sexually?
WOMAN: I couldn’t care less about that, but I’m sure you’re amazing. Top notch, no less.
MAN: You bet your ass.
WOMAN: I bet.
MAN: Yeah.
WOMAN: You’re boring.
MAN: This is stupid.
WOMAN: I agree. And you lose, ’cause guess what?
MAN: I’m dying.
WOMAN: You might as well be.
MAN: What is your deal?
WOMAN: Okay.
MAN: Okay?
WOMAN: Okay. I’ll say something. I’ll be the man here. I’ll be you and me all at once. I hope you don’t make me pick up the check though.
MAN: I wouldn’t dream of it.
WOMAN: But you dream.
MAN: Almost done with that too.
WOMAN: What do you want?
MAN: What happened? I thought you were gonna play the roles here. Back to me so soon. I’m fucked, what else do you want to know?
WOMAN: Why?
MAN: Why what?
WOMAN: I gotta go.
MAN: Then go. You know what? Just go. Go ahead! I don’t know what the hell we’re doing here anyway. I don’t care about you, you don’t care about me. That’s what we live in, so I don’t know why this gonna be any different.
WOMAN: All right, fine. I’ll stay.
MAN: Where are you from?
WOMAN: Nebraska.
MAN: Nope.
WOMAN: Nope?
MAN: You’re not from Nebraska. I’ve been to Nebraska and you are not Nebraska.
WOMAN: Why’s that?
MAN: ’Cause that place is nowhere. You’re from a coast. You grew up with stuff. Nebraska’s dead. Omaha, Lincoln, somewhere else. I’ve seen that place.
WOMAN: Maybe I moved young.
MAN: Maybe you did.
WOMAN: Where are you from?
MAN: Right here.
WOMAN: No one’s from here.
MAN: I swear to God. Born and raised, and I’ve been everywhere else and this is where I wanna be. Trust me!
WOMAN: You been to Pittsburgh?
MAN: I like Pittsburgh.
WOMAN: Me, too.
MAN: Is that where you’re from?
WOMAN: No.
MAN: So?
WOMAN: I gotta go.
MAN: See ya.
WOMAN: You want to come with me?
MAN: Where are we going?
WOMAN: To my repulsive, little, one-bedroom apartment.
The man thinks about it.
MAN: It’s really not that bad.
She seems perplexed.
WOMAN: Excuse me?
The man waves it off.
MAN: Nothing.
The woman gets up and walks away, then stops.
WOMAN: Are you coming?
The man thinks about it for a couple of seconds. She waits.
BLACK OUT:
LIGHTS UP
INT. WOMAN’S APARTMENT—NIGHT
The woman stands in front of her bed. Just off to the side of the stage is a faux fireplace with a huge stack of books resting on it. The man checks the place out.
MAN: You mind if I ask you a question?
WOMAN: Oh, no. We’re starting over already?
MAN: Why did you invite me over here?
She thinks about it. And starts straightening things up a bit.
WOMAN: I don’t know, really.
MAN: Not really the safest thing in the world to do.
WOMAN: You don’t scare me.
MAN: Well, that’s because I’m good-looking. It’s very rare that criminals look as good as I do. But I still think you gotta pay attention, and keep in mind there’s always a chance.
WOMAN: You know what I think?
MAN: Not even a little bit.
WOMAN: I think that you don’t think very highly of yourself.
MAN: Maybe you’re right.
WOMAN: I’m serious.
MAN: So am I.
WOMAN: That’s why you sound the way you sound. I have a lot of information on the subject, you know. My books? Not romance novels, so you know. I’m very interested in the mind, and the way it works.
MAN: Me, too.
WOMAN: Look how much we have in common.
MAN: What else?
WOMAN: How am I supposed to know?
MAN: I don’t know. You know everything else. About me anyway. What about you?
WOMAN: I’m from somewhere, I live here now. I have dreams I can fly, and I don’t own a television.
MAN: That’s deep enough.
WOMAN: What’s your problem, anyway?
MAN: I have a lot of them.
WOMAN: I can see that.
MAN: You can see it because you can relate. I think that’s in those books, too.
The woman thinks about it.
WOMAN: Maybe it is. Or maybe they are. Or maybe I didn’t do so well in school and that’s why I can’t speak.
MAN: Where did you go to school?
WOMAN: I don’t know.
MAN: That’s funny.
WOMAN: You think that’s funny?
MAN: No. That’s why I said it and didn’t laugh. When something’s funny, I just laugh.
WOMAN: Then why say it?
MAN: Because I’m running out of things to say.
WOMAN: Would you like something to drink?
MAN: No.
WOMAN: Then what do you want to do?
MAN: Talk.
WOMAN: About what?
MAN: I do’t know. How it is. How it was. What it’s like now.
WOMAN: Are you retarded?
MAN: No. Are you?
WOMAN: Listen here, dummy. I speak English, okay? That’s it. A little French, maybe, but that seems to be rusty as of late. You get what I’m saying here?
MAN: You ever spend time in France?
WOMAN: No.
MAN: Then why do you speak French?
WOMAN: I don’t know.
MAN: Well, you have to know. Did you go to a French-speaking school? Did you have a Parisian nanny when you were a kid? I mean, come on!
WOMAN: What is your problem?
MAN: What is your problem? You mean to tell me you’ve never seen the Eiffel Tower?
The woman doesn’t say anything.
WOMAN: All right, I’ll tell you one thing, and that’s it. Sit down.
The man sits.
WOMAN: You’re a sad person.
MAN: Is that what you were going to tell me?
WOMAN: No.
MAN: So?
WOMAN: So, what?
MAN: You were saying?
WOMAN: What was I saying?
MAN: Something.
WOMAN: About?
MAN: One thing. You were going to tell me one thing. I’m interested. Do you have something to say or not?
WOMAN: I do. I have a lot to say. I’m just not sure where to start. I don’t want to lose you.
MAN: I can keep up.
WOMAN: You married?
MAN: No, I’m not married.
WOMAN: Divorced?
MAN: Never married, close once, never divorced.
WOMAN: Now we’re getting somewhere.
The man stands up.
MAN: Where? Where are we getting? Where are we going? You’re like a talk box that doesn’t say anything. Just spits out questions, and can’t reply because of wiring or something.
WOMAN: Just sit down.
The man sits.
MAN: What?
WOMAN: Just tell me what could be so bad.
MAN: Are you serious?
WOMAN: Life is tough for you, you gotta go sit in the park and talk to pretty girls. You sit around and wait for someone to say, “Awww, what’s the matter?” What? I’m just interested.
MAN: Where do you get off?
WOMAN: Right here. I get off right here. This is my last stop. Either you tell me what the hell is so bad or I’m gonna call the cops.
MAN: The cops?
WOMAN: Or whatever. I’m gonna ask you to leave.
The man stands up.
MAN: I can’t do this anymore.
WOMAN: Well, it was nice to meet you…
MAN: Jack. My name is Jack. Say it.
WOMAN: Jack.
MAN: Say it again.
WOMAN: Is this gonna get kinky?
MAN: I don’t know. You want it, too?
WOMAN: Well, you’re not quite attractive yet, but you’re getting warmer.
MAN: You find me to be stunning.
WOMAN: Where do you get this?
MAN: It’s a fact.
WOMAN: Oh, yeah. What about me?
MAN: I think you are the prettiest woman I have ever seen in my life.
WOMAN: You don’t mean that?
MAN: Yes, I do.
WOMAN: What about my dress?
MAN: Ugliest fucking dress I have ever seen in my life.
WOMAN: Well, at least I know you’re honest.
MAN: Always. I am always honest. I’ve never lied to you… I will never lie to you.
WOMAN: Well, I’ll never lie to you either. I may not speak to you again, but if I do, I won’t lie.
MAN: That’s not very nice.
WOMAN: Well, I dig honesty is the point. Big bonus with me.
MAN: Me, too.
WOMAN: Well, look at that. We sort of do have a lot in common.
MAN: I’m starting to think so, too.
WOMAN: So, were you gonna leave? We were just getting kinky. Where were we?
MAN: You were going to tell me something. I was thinking of leaving because of the ongoing problem we are experiencing here. It’s your problem actually. The completion of a sentence is what you struggle with. Maybe you would like to sit down and try again.
WOMAN: You’re funny.
MAN: I know! Thank you.
WOMAN: Can I ask you a question?
MAN: Only if I can ask you one, too.
WOMAN: You can ask all you want.
MAN: But will you answer me?
WOMAN: Depends on the question.
MAN: You can’t even answer that one.
WOMAN: What do you want to know, Jack?
MAN: You remembered my name.
WOMAN: You only just told me.
MAN: Well, it’s a funny thing, the memory.
WOMAN: Oh yeah? Why’s that?
MAN: I don’t know. I feel like you’re able to remember the things you care to remember.
WOMAN: Not always.
MAN: That’s true, maybe you just have to try harder.
WOMAN: I do.
MAN: Well, that’s all anyone can ask, I guess.
WOMAN: I go to sleep having remembered my entire day.
MAN: What about when you wake up?
WOMAN: I don’t know.
MAN: Maybe I’ll ask you some questions now.
WOMAN: Okay.
MAN: Have you ever been in love?
WOMAN: That’s so funny.
MAN: You’re not laughing.
WOMAN: No, I mean it. Ironic, not funny. Is there an action for ironic?
MAN: Excuse me?
WOMAN: Funny haha. Ironic…?
MAN: Oh, right. I don’t know.
WOMAN: Funny or ironic because that’s what I was going to ask you.
MAN: Well, I asked you first.
WOMAN: I think you know my answer.
MAN: You don’t know.
WOMAN: Or I can’t remember.
MAN: Might have been just yesterday.
WOMAN: Who knows?
The man takes a few seconds.
MAN: Is that why you’re so upset?
WOMAN: Who said I was upset?
MAN: You did. And it was today, so you should remember.
The woman seems deeply engaged for the first time.
WOMAN: You tell me about love and maybe I’ll remember.
The man walks around the room for a while. The woman waits.
MAN: What do you want to know?
WOMAN: Whatever you can tell me, I guess.
MAN: I’ll tell you what I can tell you.
WOMAN: Well, I can’t ask for more than that.
MAN: For me. What it is for me. Maybe you can relate, maybe not. But we seem to have a lot in common.
WOMAN: Maybe we do, maybe we don’t.
MAN: Love!
WOMAN: Love!
MAN: The most excruciating heart-wrenching torture I have ever had to deal with in my entire life and to tell you the truth, I don’t wish it on anybody. But at the same time, I wouldn’t give it up, not for a billion dollars.
WOMAN: You know what I think?
MAN: I have no clue what you think.
WOMAN: I think you should write that down and send it to Hallmark because it was really, really special.
MAN: Sorry.
WOMAN: If I wanted that, I could have just turned on the TV.
MAN: You don’t have a TV.
WOMAN: For that very reason.
MAN: Oh, yeah. Then what do you got?
WOMAN: No way.
MAN: No way?
WOMAN: That’s right, no way.
MAN: At least I have something.
WOMAN: You don’t have shit.
MAN: I got more than you.
WOMAN: Is that what you think?
MAN: That’s what I know.
WOMAN: Well, you’re wrong, you don’t know.
MAN: What? What don’t I know?
WOMAN: Anything. Life, love, any of it.
MAN: Then tell me. Prove me wrong.
WOMAN: I killed myself for it. That enough?
MAN: You killed yourself or you tried to kill yourself?
WOMAN: Both.
MAN: No, you didn’t.
WOMAN: Who the fuck are you? Yes I did.
MAN: You didn’t do that.
WOMAN: Don’t tell me what I didn’t do.
MAN: Well, don’t tell me what you think you did.
WOMAN: What do you know?
MAN: I know all kinds of shit.
WOMAN: Oh, yeah? Like what?
MAN: The sky is blue. Trees are trees. And you are most certainly not dead. You might be halfway there, maybe further even, but you are here. That is a fact.
WOMAN: You don’t know where I am, and you don’t know where I came from either.
MAN: Well, I’m not a fucking mind reader.
WOMAN: Forget it.
MAN: Forget what?
WOMAN: You’re not worth it.
MAN: I’m not worth what?
WOMAN: My time, my energy, or my explanation. Love is this and love is that. You’re a child. I tried to kill myself, I crashed. You don’t know about anything. You’re like an infant crawling around wondering what everything is like, and you hate it, so you make things up. You make up stories so that it doesn’t all have to be about bottles and tall people.
MAN: What the fuck are you talking about?
WOMAN: You want to know something, you better tell me something. And if you write me another fucking Christmas card, I’m gonna throw up all over the floor.
MAN: You’re so pathetic, you know that? What did you do? What the hell is wrong with you? You killed yourself? Bullshit. You didn’t do shit. You don’t know. And you don’t want to know.
WOMAN: What don’t I know?
MAN: You don’t know anything. You can’t remember, you’re not sure.
WOMAN: I’m full of shit?
MAN: Yeah. Goddamn right you are. Maybe you’re not worth it. Maybe that’s it.
WOMAN: Get out.
MAN: No.
WOMAN: Get out.
MAN: I’d like to hit you.
WOMAN: Fine.
MAN: Bye.
The man moves for the door.
WOMAN: Bye… Jack!
The man stops at the door.
MAN: I’ll see you.
WOMAN: I never want to see you again.
MAN: Okay.
The man exits.
The woman sits alone on stage and begins to cry.
BLACK OUT:
LIGHTS UP
INT. MAN’S APARTMENT—DAY
The man’s apartment. The bed is on the opposite side of the stage. Almost no furniture. Some moving-boxes.
NOTE: This is a new day, both the man and the woman are wearing a new change of clothes.
The woman walks around the apartment.
The man packs some personal belongings into a box.
WOMAN: Looks like it’s your lucky day, Jake.
MAN: Oh, yeah. Why’s that?
WOMAN: I usually don’t go home with men I meet at the park.
MAN: I see. What do you usually do? Take ’em to your place?
WOMAN: Absolutely not. I’m a very private person. I would never do that.
MAN: Right. And it’s Jack, by the way.
She looks around and takes the place in.
WOMAN: Right. So, what are you, a Virgo, Jack?
MAN: Why do you ask me that?
WOMAN: I don’t know. Just checking compatibility, I guess.
MAN: Really?
WOMAN: No. Not really. Looks like an operating room in here.
MAN: You believe in that stuff?
WOMAN: Operating? Sure, saves lives.
MAN: That’s cute.
WOMAN: Hey, look, whatever works for you. Some people look for signs, some people take life for what it is.
MAN: Oh yeah? What do you do?
WOMAN: And some people like furniture, some people don’t. Whatever floats your boat.
MAN: I’m moving.
WOMAN: Oh, yeah? Where are you going?
MAN: I’m not sure yet.
WOMAN: So mysterious.
MAN: Not really.
WOMAN: I’d ask, but I’m sure the answer’s just way too complex. I love it when people are deep with me the very day that I’ve met them. It turns me on.
MAN: What does turn you on?
WOMAN: You do.
MAN: Really?
WOMAN: What do you think?
MAN: I think that you are an asshole.
WOMAN: Wow. What a gentlemen. Nice to have met you.
MAN: Yeah, well, I give up.
WOMAN: Don’t got a lot of try in you, huh?
MAN: You have no idea.
WOMAN: I bet. Now I know why you’re skipping town. You’ve probably been here for days upon days. Even weeks maybe.
MAN: I don’t even know what to say to that.
WOMAN: You don’t have a lot to say about much, do you?
MAN: Why are you like this? I have to know.
WOMAN: Well, I don’t, okay?
MAN: Okay.
WOMAN: So, you really don’t know where you’re going?
MAN: I don’t know, any suggestions?
WOMAN: Everywhere sucks.
MAN: I figured as much.
WOMAN: You might as well stay where you are.
MAN: I can’t do that anymore.
WOMAN: Why not?
MAN: Because I’m starting to hate the park.
WOMAN: What the hell does that mean?
MAN: Nothing. Maybe it’s a metaphor.
WOMAN: Maybe you’re a metaphor.
MAN: Oh, yeah? What am I metaphor…for?
WOMAN: That’s funny?
MAN: You actually laughed.
WOMAN: Well, that’s what I do when things are funny.
MAN: That’s funny.
WOMAN: You’re not laughing.
MAN: Never mind.
WOMAN: Never mind what, weirdo?
MAN: Yesterday.
WOMAN: What was yesterday?
MAN: Fucking Tuesday.
WOMAN: What?
MAN: What did you do yesterday?
WOMAN: I don’t remember.
MAN: Right.
The woman takes a beat. The man puts his head down.
WOMAN: You really don’t know where you’re going?
MAN: Not really.
WOMAN: But you’re going?
MAN: Pretty sure.
WOMAN: Just giving up?
MAN: Maybe.
WOMAN: I guess I can understand that.
MAN: Tell me about it.
WOMAN: Yeah.
MAN: No, I mean, tell me about it. Literally tell me.
WOMAN: That might be a little deep, don’t you think? I mean, we did just meet.
MAN: Right.
WOMAN: You know what I think?
MAN: No.
WOMAN: I think you must be pretty weak.
MAN: Really?
WOMAN: I mean that in the most constructive way possible.
MAN: Sure, I didn’t take offense to it. I’m already finding the real meaning. The depth of it all. The bright side.
WOMAN: I mean, I suppose I understand being hurt, or having problems, but it’s not like you just walk away from the bird house and forget how to fly. I mean if you’re crazy, you’re crazy, you know what I mean? Here, there, wherever. You’re still a nutjob.
MAN: Well, I’m hardly a nutjob, but thank you.
WOMAN: Nutjob, broken-hearted, it’s all the same stuff. It’s a malfunction. A derailment. Something gone awry. I read a lot of books, for the record. On this subject, specifically, so I don’t want you to think I don’t know my business here, ’cause I do. See, we’re all born with the same parts up there, but sometimes things don’t go as planned. Train’s supposed to stay on the track, but sometimes it doesn’t, and when it doesn’t, guess what, bad shit happens. You drive a car like an asshole and eventually the transmission stops working. All this to say, you got a delicate piece of work up there that’s been twisted and turned, but running off to Costa Rica or some place isn’t gonna help nothing. You might as well just chop your head off. At least that would be productive.
MAN: Well, I guess I choose the lesser of two evils.
WOMAN: What good is evil if it doesn’t work.
MAN: So, what are you saying?
WOMAN: I say be a man.
MAN: You want me to stay?
WOMAN: I don’t care what you do.
MAN: Well, that’s why I’m leaving.
WOMAN: That doesn’t make any sense.
MAN: Well, maybe I should read some more books.
WOMAN: Tell you the truth, that doesn’t really help either. In my experience, you just gotta sit. People like to run. Are you a jogger, Jack?
MAN: Not yet, but I think I’m gonna give it a try, Sally.
The woman takes a long look at him.
WOMAN: Why?
MAN: ’Cause I can’t do it anymore. I can’t do the same thing every day and not have something different happen.
WOMAN: Try something different.
MAN: I’ve tried everything. Twice.
WOMAN: So, that’s it?
MAN: I don’t want it to be. But I don’t know what else to do.
WOMAN: Tell somebody.
MAN: I do. Every day.
WOMAN: Well, give it one last shot. I bet you’ve never tried it with a stranger.
The man thinks about it.
MAN: Okay.
WOMAN: Great.
MAN: I hope you don’t make fun of me.
WOMAN: I might, but who cares? This is for you. It’s not about me.
The man takes a breath.
MAN: I pretty much spent the majority of my life making really bad decisions.
WOMAN: People do that.
MAN: Not neccessarily bad, just wrong.
WOMAN: Wrong, bad. Semantics.
MAN: The people I spent time with.
WOMAN: Women.
MAN: Hurting women. Not on purpose, just living in a place where I couldn’t be hurt.
WOMAN: That’s it?
MAN: No. Something happened.
WOMAN: What happened?
MAN: Things changed.
WOMAN: Great. What changed?
MAN: Everything. I got a chance to look at something different. Something like me, maybe. But different.
WOMAN: That’s deep.
MAN: Deep and gone.
WOMAN: Oh, yeah? Well, where did that fly off to?
MAN: I don’t know.
WOMAN: Is that where you’re going?
MAN: I wish.
WOMAN: So, now what?
MAN: Life, I guess. Just every day. Walking around with nowhere to go. Driving for miles with no music. Thinking about nothing.
WOMAN: Sounds great.
MAN: Maybe it is. Empty, but at least alone and unaware.
WOMAN: Of what? Music? Destination? You talk in dots and dashes, you know that?
MAN: Well, that’s life I guess. A bunch of dots and dashes.
WOMAN: So, where’s the good part?
MAN: Right here. It’s right here. If you could just open your eyes and see that it’s standing right in front of you.
WOMAN: You?
MAN: And you.
WOMAN: Me?
MAN: That’s right.
WOMAN: You’re an idiot.
MAN: I know.
WOMAN: And you’re a borderline nutjob as far as I’m concerned.
MAN: I don’t think so. I think the definition of crazy is trying the same thing over and over and expecting a different result. I think giving up is what makes me sane.
WOMAN: I think checking into a facility would at least support a form of sanity for you. But you’re fucked. At least partially, anyhow.
MAN: Not even partially. I have hope. Nothing worse than hope. It keeps you there. It doesn’t let you surrender.
WOMAN: Apparently it lets you surrender just fine.
MAN: I have no choice.
WOMAN: You always have a choice.
MAN: Well, I can see what you chose. You chose death.
WOMAN: Wrong. I said you have a choice, I didn’t say that I did.
MAN: I’m giving you a choice right now.
WOMAN: You’re giving me a headache right now.
MAN: Well, at least you’re listening.
WOMAN: What do you want?
MAN: I want what I had.
WOMAN: I still don’t know what that is.
MAN: Sure you do. You want the same thing.
WOMAN: I want reality.
MAN: You got it.
WOMAN: What do you got?
MAN: Want. I have want. I have need and want. I have alone, I have empty, and I have lonely.
WOMAN: I have nausea.
MAN: I have to go.
WOMAN: Then go.
MAN: After you.
WOMAN: No, please.
MAN: I live here.
WOMAN: Not anymore you don’t.
The man takes a few steps.
MAN: It doesn’t have to be like this.
WOMAN: It most certainly does.
The woman takes a step toward the door.
MAN: Sally.
She stops.
WOMAN: What?
MAN: Where do you think she went?
WOMAN: She’s a figment of your imagination.
MAN: Maybe she is.
WOMAN: Well, you can’t have dreams, we both know that.
MAN: Maybe it’s not a dream.
WOMAN: She’s a dream.
MAN: I want her.
WOMAN: She’s gone.
MAN: Then I want you?
WOMAN: Well, I’m not on the market.
MAN: Why is that?
WOMAN: ’Cause I’m not. I died a long time ago, buddy. You’re too late and I’m out the door.
MAN: Wait.
WOMAN: What?
MAN: Don’t leave.
WOMAN: I’m leaving.
MAN: Don’t leave. If you leave, I’m leaving, too, and I know you don’t want me to do that. I’ll stay. I’ll stay forever, just tell me what you remember.
WOMAN: Remember what?
MAN: That you didn’t try to kill yourself and that you’re not dead.
WOMAN: Leave it alone, Jack.
MAN: it was an accident.
WOMAN: It was no accident, Jack. It was the end, and that’s why I tried to kill myself.
MAN: NO! That’s why you can’t remember, because you had an accident. So if you can’t remember, then just shut the fuck up and listen to me, ’cause I do.
WOMAN: I’m listening.
MAN: Say you had an accident.
WOMAN: Say I did.
MAN: No. Say it. Say the words. I had an accident.
WOMAN: This is silly.
MAN: Will you just play along?
WOMAN: I had an accident.
MAN: There was a horrible crash.
WOMAN: What kind?
MAN: No. Just say what I say.
WOMAN: There was a horrible crash.
MAN: But I loved you and you loved me and everything’s okay now.
WOMAN: You need help.
MAN: No shit. So help me out here. Just say it, please.
WOMAN: It’s over.
MAN: Fine. Then start over. Try again. If you would just say something, then it would exist. Maybe I’m crazy, maybe I am stupid, I’m most likely an asshole. But here I am and I love you. Who cares why? Who cares how it goes or how it happened. It just did. Why isn’t that enough? Every fucking day with this shit. I can’t take it anymore. Why can’t you just stop? Move forward! Live. Be a human being and have something. So goddamned busy trying to get the past that you’re missing the future. And I’m being dragged along. I don’t want to do it anymore. I can’t do it anymore. Take a fucking swing already because I’ve had it.
The woman takes a beat.
WOMAN: Why are you screaming?
The man falls down on his knees.
MAN: Please.
WOMAN: What?
MAN: Will you just love me. Please just love me.
The woman gets on the floor with him and takes his hands.
WOMAN: I’ll love you.
MAN: You promise?
WOMAN: I do.
They embrace. Kiss. Touch.
BLACK OUT:
LIGHTS UP
INT. MAN’S APARTMENT—MORNING
The man lies alone in his bed sleeping. He wakes up, and immediately realizes he is alone.
He jumps out of bed.
MAN: Sally… Sally.
He opens the door searching for her.
MAN: Sally?
He finds a note pinned to the front door. He removes it and begins to read it.
The man starts to cry. He falls down onto the floor wailing and clutching the letter.
MAN: SALLY!
BLACK OUT:
LIGHTS UP
EXT. PARK—DAY
The woman sits alone on a bench staring straight out into the audience.
The man enters and notices her. He checks her out for a couple of seconds and then heads over to her. He stands in front of her.
The woman stares up at him.
WOMAN: Can I help you with something?
MAN: I don’t know. Maybe. Can I ask you a couple of questions?
WOMAN: No. Go away.
The man waits a beat, then puts his head down and walks away.
He stops, looks back at her, and then out to the audience.
BLACK OUT:
THE END