Lights up, but just a bit, to a wide-open living room. A couch and a coffee table. A loveseat, spiral notepads, and a bunch of pens and pencils scattered around on top of an old wooden desk. An old record player off to the side on a small vintage footstool. An old crate sits next to it filled with records. Either it’s the sixties, or the home of a very pretentious artist. No television. No modern technology whatsoever.
A small kitchenette with a butcher’s block and a vintage-looking table is set up with a few wooden chairs.
As the lights continue to push up...a man, mid-to-late thirties, scruffy hair and beard. He’s visibly upset. He takes a few pacing steps, then sits down on the couch. He flips a coin into the air, catches it, then palms it onto his other hand. He takes a look, then puts the coin away into his pocket. He looks out, studies the walls, then drops his check into his closed fist, resting his head on his hand. He’s already defeated. This is JIMMY.
GIOVANNI, Jimmy’s best friend. Good-looking, late thirties, Italian American. Heavy Chicago accent. He carefully studies his friend.
JIMMY: Can I afford it?
Giovanni waits.
JIMMY: (Cont’d) Good question, right? Pretty loaded. Literally? Sure. Do I have sufficient funds for the aforementioned? Absolutely. But to afford it? A-FORD.
Jimmy leans forward.
JIMMY: She wants me to take her to Paris? She wants babies? Keep doing what you’re doing and we’ll be just fine? Is that it?
Giovanni continues to study him, but no answer.
JIMMY: Fuck that. Not here. Not today. Nope.
Jimmy quickly stands up and blows right past Giovanni. He heads to a cabinet and begins to search through it.
Giovanni watches him for a second or two.
GIOVANNI: What are you looking for?
Jimmy doesn’t even look up.
JIMMY: Weed. I’m looking for weed.
GIOVANNI: You gonna smoke it?
JIMMY: No, I’m gonna eat it. What do you think I’m gonna do with it?
GIOVANNI: I don’t know. That’s why I asked... And you could, you know?
JIMMY: What? I could what?
GIOVANNI: Eat it. People doing that now. All over the place. Now that it’s practically legal. They’re making just about everything with it. They got cakes, beverages, lollies.
JIMMY: Really?
Jimmy continues to search.
JIMMY: Lollies, huh?
GIOVANNI: Oh, yeah. One thing to the next. They got it all and I’ll tell you what, it’s a good thing, because then other people, like the people lookin’ for it, for whatever reasons, they don’t have to get those terrible coughs and lung problems from smoking it. Everyone’s healthy now. And that’s fine. I suppose it’s good.
Jimmy storms past him again and heads to the other side of the stage. He begins to rifle through the drawers of a desk.
JIMMY: Yeah.
GIOVANNI: Yeah. But I, on a personal level, don’t care much for it...I like to smoke it. For a number of reasons. The ritual. I like throwin’ it into a pipe and smokin’ it up like I’m on some sort of reservation, ya know? Plus, I like to know what I’m getting into. You take a puff, you wait and see. Now takin’ a bite on the other hand? What do you know? I’ll tell you what you know. Nothing. Zip. You really can’t tell what from what. Next thing you know, not to mention it’s thirty minutes later and you already moved on to do something that you didn’t care to be stoned for, and boom, it hits you like a ton of something big, and here we go. You’re off, and you don’t know when you might be back on.
Jimmy looks stressed. He can’t find it.
GIOVANNI: What’s the matter with you? You’re bouncing off and all over the place.
JIMMY: Can you get someone to get me some weed?
GIOVANNI: Sure. What’s with the sudden urge?
JIMMY: I need to calm down.
GIOVANNI: That’s fine. Sit down. Let us gather. I just got here. I have some things, you have some things. We’ll sort through all.
Jimmy sits down and takes a deep breath. Giovanni checks him out. Jimmy tries to concentrate on his breathing. It’s not working.
He pushes out a few fast breaths and then sucks in deep like he’s about to submerge himself under water.
GIOVANNI: Okay. That’s good... (He waits.) Why don’t you go ahead and exhale.
Jimmy exhales a giant sigh.
GIOVANNI: Okay, nice. Now. Something wrong with you, something you’d like to discuss, in English, that needs assistance? Besides the obvious of needing to calm down.
JIMMY: Yes, I think so.
He waits.
GIOVANNI: Okay, I’m here. What is it?
Jimmy thinks.
JIMMY: I don’t know.
GIOVANNI: What do you mean? How could you not know?
JIMMY: I mean, I know. Of course I know. I’m just not so sure. It’s a lot.
GIOVANNI: Okay, you’re gonna have to slow down, or speed up, or something, ’cause I don’t know either.
JIMMY: Okay. This morning I thought it was one thing, which I’m pretty sure it still is, but now I’m starting to think that maybe it’s a lot of different things.
Giovanni thinks. Jimmy snaps a finger.
JIMMY: Come to think of it, I’m actually positive it’s one thing for sure, but it also might be something else is what I’m saying. I mean, that’s the thing, though, right? Who knows what’s what when you’re this worked up? In general even. Worked up or not.
Giovanni thinks some more.
GIOVANNI: Okay. What’s bothering you the least? Let’s start backward.
JIMMY: Why backward?
GIOVANNI: It’s unconventional and you’re you.
Jimmy thinks.
JIMMY: Okay. First things last?
GIOVANNI: Something like that. Why not?
Jimmy starts to think. Giovanni waits. Jimmy pops up.
JIMMY: Okay. I got it. A woman moves into your home.
GIOVANNI: My home or yours?
JIMMY: This is general here. It’s neither one of our homes.
GIOVANNI: That’s good. Less confusing. Go ahead.
JIMMY: Okay. She decides, you both decide, to share space. Now, this space just happens to be yours.
Giovanni wants to ask a question.
JIMMY: Not yours, literally, not mine. The general.
GIOVANNI: Okay.
JIMMY: Okay. Now, all of a sudden, over time, and not that much, over the course of whatever, a switch begins to happen. You with me?
GIOVANNI: I’m right here.
JIMMY: This is something.
GIOVANNI: I just said I’m right here.
JIMMY: Okay. This switch. This event. This occurrence or whatever...
GIOVANNI: Go ahead.
JIMMY: All these things that used to be mine, out of the blue, and within a short period of time, have slowly, or maybe not so slowly, started to become ours. Not us. THE GENERAL. The general mine becomes the general ours. Now that gets tricky all in itself, but that’s not even what I’m saying. I’m talking about scales. I’m talking about give and receive. I am talking about equality. Sure, she comes home, maybe she throws a new blanket on the bed, maybe she buys a coffee machine. Why not? And I say, “Thank you.” But come on. You see what’s happening?
GIOVANNI: I believe I have potential, but right this second, no.
JIMMY: Having a woman move in with you is like the worst deal in the history of bad deals. Think about it. She gets a new house, new furniture, new place to put all her shit, and what do you get in return? Love? Supprt? Occasional affection. But what the fuck? She’s still getting all that shit, too. Nothing’s changed, except mine becomes ours, and I just became we. For what? I mean, I was just having sex with you, regularly, for free, and now I’m paying for it. Do you see this? I mean, what the hell is going on here?
GIOVANNI: I think what’s going on here, and keep in mind this is just my opinion, but that being said...this is how it works. Someone has to be the Masculine and someone has to be the Feminine. I mean, everyone plays a part. You move in, she moves in. Someone wears pants, and “generally,” that’s bullshit, but fine. Generally, the one wearing those very pants wakes up every morning and puts money in ’em. It’s in the drawer, right next to the side of the bed where the pants are.
Jimmy takes it in.
GIOVANNI: You’d like to be taken care of?
JIMMY: Absolutely not.
GIOVANNI: That’s what I’m saying.
JIMMY: No. That’s what I’m saying. No. That’s exactly what I’m saying. I could never do that.
GIOVANNI: You couldn’t do what?
JIMMY: I could never be that kind of person. I could never move into your house and all a sudden start uttering the words we, or us, or ours. I mean how do you get the balls to do that?
Giovanni sits down on the couch.
JIMMY: (Cont’d) What? You just come in, sit on someone’s couch, and—when it feels appropriate—you name it ours? You had nothing to do with procuring that couch. You don’t even have a clue of how it got there, but now it belongs to you? This is bullshit. How can a person do that?
Giovanni stands up.
GIOVANNI: I couldn’t, and that’s the point. That’s not my part to play, and as it is, neither is it yours. That’s it right there. And that’s the way it works. You got a solution to that, then I don’t know what? Let’s call somebody. But if not, let’s do the right thing here. Let’s call it what it is. Women are from one place, and we’re from somewhere else. And I don’t mean to sound like a pig, because Lord knows I’m not, because sometimes things are actually reversed. She plays him and he plays her. But one, I’m old fashioned. And two, I got muscles and I choose to be what I am. I hold the door, you act like a lady. I pick up the check, you rub my feet. That’s just what I prefer.
Giovanni sits back down on the couch.
JIMMY: I prefer the same, that’s not what I’m saying.
GIOVANNI: I think the truth is, you’re not so sure about what you’re saying.
JIMMY: Is that so terrible?
Giovanni picks up a magazine.
GIOVANNI: That’s a whole other conversation. I mean, you ask me if it’s okay to speak not knowing what’s coming out. I’m saying that’s a bad thing. But that’s way off topic here, and we can’t afford that. Not at this point. I got shit going on and you do, too. What the fuck am I talking about?
JIMMY: I don’t know.
Giovanni takes a second to gather. He puts down the magazine, snaps, and points at Jimmy.
GIOVANNI: You want to live alone?
Jimmy thinks about it.
GIOVANNI: It’s not a thinker. Spit it out.
JIMMY: No. I don’t.
GIOVANNI: Right. Neither do I. In theory. You love your girl?
JIMMY: Very much.
GIOVANNI: Right. Problem solved.
JIMMY: Just like that?
GIOVANNI: Absolutely. What did I just say? People like to live alone. That’s a choice. That’s fine. It’s not mine. We’re still, in theory, but it’s not yours either. What do we get, you ask? We get company. I like company. I like to take a bite and say, “Hey, taste this. It’s pretty good. What do you think, woman?” I’m pretty sure they like the same thing. They get the same thing, plus a house and some new shit. But, really, all they’re after—the good ones, I mean, at the end of the day, is some sort of legitimacy in their little community of females. Big deal. Ask me to explain that I can’t.
JIMMY: I don’t want to live alone.
GIOVANNI: Right! Of course you don’t, so what the hell are we talking about here?
JIMMY: I’m not sure.
GIOVANNI: Well, let’s go on ahead and really get to the bottom, ’cause leave alone the fact I got stuff, too, if this is what’s bothering you the least, and you’re this worked up, and as a result it’s having the same effect on me. We might need some stronger drugs.
JIMMY: Okay, but now I’m maybe not so sure about what’s bothering me the least.
GIOVANNI: I see.
JIMMY: I’m confused.
GIOVANNI: I can see that, too. And, for the record—and I’m not saying I’m up for it, but pot might not be the best detangler, if you know what I mean. Eating it, smoking it, stickin’ it up your nose. You think you’re confused now?
Jimmy gathers himself.
JIMMY: No. I think it’s best if we stick to the plan.
Giovanni nods.
GIOVANNI: That’s fine, too.
Jimmy pulls a quarter out of his pocket. He flips it into the air, catches it, and palms it onto his other hand. He looks down at the coin.
JIMMY: Shit.
GIOVANNI: Is that for the dope?
Jimmy nods his head.
JIMMY: Something else.
GIOVANNI: Okay. But I warned you.
Giovanni pulls his phone out of his pocket and dials a number.
JIMMY: What are you doing?
Giovanni puts up a finger silencing him and then puts the phone up to his ear.
JIMMY: (Cont’d) How could you call someone right now? Inappropriate.
Giovanni puts his finger again.
GIOVANNI: (Into phone) Hey, Bobby. It’s Giovanni Botigliero. I’m good. Yeah, really good. You? How’s the family? That’s fantastic. Really good to hear. How old is he now? Seven years old? Wow. Amazing. Time really does fly. Well, that’s really great. Hey, can you bring me some weed? I can meet you over at the canyon store over there on Laurel. Thirty minutes? Okay, I’ll see you in a bit.
He hangs up the phone and puts it back into his pocket.
LIGHTS OUT