quarta-feira, fevereiro 04, 2004

Love Story – A short play

(encontrei a cena inacabada no meu computador. não resisti a terminá-la, a voltar a brincar um pouco com o inglês. espero que tenham paciência)

There are five people seated in regular wooden chairs with a table. They are all dressed in black and every single one is having a drink.

CHRIS is a good looking guy, late twenties, white smile, body built through a lot of hours in the gym. He’s having a Maker’s Mark on the rocks.
MICHELLE is a blond girl, pretty, long hair, nice breasts. She is twenty two. She is drinking a Jack Daniels with diet coke.
CHAD is a bald guy, also in his twenties, worn out clothes, out of shape. He looks confused and tired. He drinks a Margarita.
TIAGO is the foreign guy, the oldest, in his thirties, cynical looking. His poison is Jameson on the rocks.
NOBLE is from Bangladesh, nice posture, in his twenties, very concentrated. He drinks a beer and smokes a cigarette.

There’s a big pile of cash on top of the table. Michelle counts it and writes numbers in a book.

CHRIS: Man, what a rush today. Don’t you love it? When you feel like everything is fucked and then, at the end, by some fucking miracle, you pull it off?

Everybody looks at him but there’s not one answer. They all keep drinking. Michelle takes a sip and gets back to the money.

CHRIS: Do you guys know what I mean? Like today, I swear to God, I thought that fat guy was gonna bust me. I was so pumped up that I almost got out of character, man. For a moment, for a fucking second, I was me and him, no fucking masks, face-to-face. And he went for it. Victory was mine.
TIAGO: Hey, pretty boy, you can glamorize it all you want, put a little white dress on it and call it Britney Spears. But don’t forget what we do. Keep it simple.
CHRIS: Well Tiago, what do you think we do then?
TIAGO: Well Chris, we take people’s money. That’s all, nice and ugly. We’re one step up from those guys who steal your wallet on the subway. How do you call those? Pickpocket?
MICHELLE (without looking up): Panhandlers. Pickpocket is what they do.
TIAGO: Bravo, Miss Michelle.
CHAD: How much money you guys think we pulled tonight?
MICHELLE (Looking up): Well, if you guys could be quiet for a minute, this would be a lot easier. And faster.
CHRIS: I’m hoping for a big fucking score tonight. We did good.
CHAD: I hope so. I need the money. My credit card debts are killing me.
CHRIS: I hear you. I tell you man, as soon as I have enough money, I’m out of here. This is a good business to be in for a couple of years but you don’t want to get too involved. You know what I mean, right?
TIAGO: No, Chris, what exactly do you mean? Tell us. Because one second you saying what a rush this job is, the other you’re telling us about your dreams in the real world. So please, explain.
CHRIS (getting up): Do you have a fucking problem with me?
TIAGO (also getting up): I have a problem with the world in general. Didn’t you notice?
MICHELLE: Boys, behave.
CHRIS: You’re an asshole.
TIAGO: Hey, I try.
CHRIS: I was just saying, you know, you spend too much of your life in here and you end up like those cocaine sniffing fuckers we work for.
TIAGO: Oh, and I’m guessing you have so much you wanna do with your life, right? I mean, you’re still young, right?
CHRIS: Fuck you.
TIAGO: No, please, tell us. What do you want to be when you grow up?
CHAD: Tiago, what the fuck is your problem tonight?
TIAGO: Hey, Chad, baby, why don’t you do me a favor and play Noble for a while, all right? I’m not talking to you.
NOBLE: Don’t talk about me.
TIAGO: Jesus, was I talking about you Noble?
CHRIS: I wanna be an actor.
TIAGO: You want to be an actor?
TIAGO: You’re pathetic.
CHRIS: I’m pathetic because I dream of doing something with my life?
TIAGO: No, Chris, you’re pathetic because you don’t dream about being an actor; you dream about being Ben Affleck. You’re pathetic because you have no talent, no knowledge of culture or acting and because you’re brain dead and you don’t even know it. Read a book once in a while instead of working out five hours a day in a gym surrounded by big guys in tights. Maybe then you can think about acting; when you have something to say. Until then, get used to this, because that’s all you’re good for. Getting money from people.
CHAD: God, you’re depressing.
TIAGO: I’m realistic.
MICHELLE: Who are you to talk? Why do you always act like you know everything?
TIAGO: There’s a lot I don’t have a clue about, darling.
CHAD: Oh yeah? Like what?
TIAGO: Gay porn. I know absolutely nothing about gay porn. I couldn’t name a single prominent performer, director or title.
CHRIS: Or so you say.
TIAGO: That’s quite the comeback, Chris. Bravo.
CHAD: Dirk Diggler. He’s excellent.
TIAGO: Come again?
CHAD: Oh, I love when you talk dirty to me.
TIAGO: Do you have to be that gay?
CHAD: Do you have to be that stupid?
CHRIS: Jesus Michelle, what’s taking so fucking long?
MICHELLE: I’m trying to figure it out. Some numbers don’t fit. Give me a couple of minutes.
TIAGO: Who told you you were the brains in the group?
MICHELLE: The same person that said you were perfect as our cynical pain in the ass conscience. Will you shut up?
TIAGO: How about you, sweet Michelle. What do you want to do with your life?
MICHELLE: We are not getting into that.
TIAGO: Oh, come on. I promise to pat you in the back and encourage you.
TIAGO: Come on, tell the group. We’re your friends. If you don’t confide in us, well then—
MICHELLE: Shut up.
TIAGO: Maybe I should tell them, then.
CHRIS: Maybe you should stop. What the fuck is up with you, anyway?
TIAGO: Michelle here wants to be a dancer. I’m serious. She dreams about being a ballerina. White dress, stupid shoes, moving in sensuous ways in order to send out an important message about swans. Bravo, Michelle.
MICHELLE: You know what I find funny about you?
TIAGO: The way I always manage to see through the bullshit?
MICHELLE: The fact that you think you know me just because we fucked.
TIAGO: Don’t presume to—
CHAD: You guys fucked?
CHRIS: Oh man, this is getting interesting.
MICHELLE: Get over it. You came, I didn’t. End of story.
TIAGO: Well, see it as practice, darling. You’ll probably end up in a strip club doing lap dances for horny guys with a mullet anyway. They will cum in their pants. You’ll get twenty bucks. I mean, if we think about it, if we really give it some thought, that’s pretty much the same thing you do around here, isn’t it? You smile in your nice cleavage, big white teethes and nice round breasts, and you make them feel all special inside. And for what? For money. Those idiots never know what hit them. They leave thinking what a nice blowjob you almost did to them in the bathroom.
MICHELLE: In case you didn’t notice, that’s my job. Smiling and being nice. Yes, I admit it, it’s all about the money. But I don’t see you complain when you leave this place with a pocket full of cash. So fuck you. You are an hypocrite.
TIAGO: I only tell the truth, darling.
MICHELLE: If that is all you do, you better stop calling me darling.
CHAD: That’s some fucked up truth.
TIAGO: Well, it’s a fucked up world, pardon my language.
CHAD: Who fucked you up the ass today?
TIAGO: Lovely, that’s a great image, thanks Chad.
CHRIS: You know what I think?
TIAGO: I had no idea you thought at all.
CHRIS: I think you’re a loser.
TIAGO: Well, no controversy there. I agree.
NOBLE: You’re not a loser. You’re just sad.
TIAGO: The wise one finally speaks. Don’t you just love it? Give this man, any man, a white shirt and an Apu-like accent and knowledge is theirs. Where does it say, is it written somewhere?
NOBLE: I’m wearing black, same as you. Same as you.
TIAGO: No, Noble. You’re not wearing black. You might put it on, but you never wear it. I even doubt if it touches your skin. Don’t presume, just because you drink a Heineken or act as if you smoke a cigarette every other day, don’t presume that you’re at my level. All right? When you look at me, you look down, all right?
NOBLE: Look down? I look a man in his eyes. I have no shame in what I am.
TIAGO: You look down in superiority Noble. Not in shame.
CHAD: Are we supposed to feel sorry for you? Is that what this fucking drama is about?
TIAGO: No, no. I don’t want your pity. I want honesty. I want for you people to admit the existence of mediocrity as I announce mine. I’m the prophet of self realization. I preach the end of illusion.
MICHELLE: No. You’re just a no talented lonely wannabe writer. You want company in your misery, that’s all.
TIAGO: Are we having this?
TIAGO: This conversation. Are we having it?
MICHELLE: You started it.
CHAD: You write?
TIAGO: Shut up.
CHAD: Actual words?
TIAGO: Shut the fuck up!
CHAD: About birds and bees and flowers and love?
TIAGO: No. I write about starving children, bombs that fall from the sky with the impunity of God, despair, sorrow, regret, homeless people whose empty paper cup holds no more than two quarters, old and dirty and the end of meals, if you don’t eat for a week, you can live on air and alcohol.

There’s total silence.

CHRIS: No, really, what do you write about?
TIAGO (sitting down): About you. About this. About right now.
CHAD: Maybe you should stop fictionalizing your life. The distance would do you good.
TIAGO: How the fuck can one create distance from his own life?
CHAD: Easy. Just concentrate on someone else’s.

Silence again.

TIAGO: You’re so fucking gay.
MICHELLE: I’m almost done.
TIAGO: Finally.
MICHELLE: No thanks to you, of course.

Tiago leans over and speaks only to Michelle.

TIAGO: You didn’t?
MICHELLE: Didn’t what?
TIAGO: You know.
MICHELLE: No, I don’t. Didn’t what?
TIAGO: You know. Come.
MICHELLE: No. I didn’t.
MICHELLE: Because I looked into your eyes and you weren’t there. Because sex on coke is insincere, it’s just a hard on with rapid movements. An act of aggression. I didn’t came, Tiago, because I love you. And you broke my heart, in that second.

Tiago smiles.

TIAGO: You made me smile.
MICHELLE: I hope it hurt, you stupid, sad fuck.
TIAGO: It did. Thank you.
MICHELLE: All right people. Take it.

The money is divided in five piles and the book in open with a pen on the side. Chris, Chad and Noble get up, take their share and sign their names. They are ready to leave. Tiago and Michelle stay seated.

MICHELLE: Who works tomorrow morning?
CHRIS: I do.
MICHELLE: Try to be here a little earlier. There’s a party of eight and we’ll need to set up.
CHRIS: Special menu?
MICHELLE: No, just a regular lunch. Be a good waiter and try and sell some wine.
CHRIS: I’ll be at my best.

Chris, Chad and Noble leave. Michelle picks up Tiago’s share and gives it to him. She gets up and puts her coat on. Tiago does the same. She goes in the back and turns the lights off. Tiago is left alone for a while. He is still smiling. Michelle comes back and walks out. Tiago tries to hold her hand. She doesn’t let him but smiles all the same.

MICHELLE: Next time, just ask. Stop being such a fucking drama queen.

The end.