by Eric Lane
SIOBHAN: No, I guess they can’t.
CASSIE: I’m going to report you to someone.
DRIVER: (Not understanding what she said.) Yes. Yes. Thankyouverymuch. Lazzominsh Lazoomish Kapeechka. Chaka. Chaka. Chaka-kahn.
(Taxi drops her off at the table.)
CASSIE: (Still on cell.) I am so tired of taxis in the city. I am walking everywhere from now on.
SIOBHAN: We can hang up now. We’re both here.
CASSIE: That’s right. Where is the waiter? (She hangs up. Studies SIOBHAN for a second.) How are you? Before you tell me, and I do want to know—oh, someone is texting me. ’Scuse me for one sec. Oh shhhh-nanigans. I need to make a quick call. Read your book for a second.
SIOBHAN: I deserve to be loved.
CASSIE: Yes, you do. Hold that thought, honey. I need to call into the office. Because you’re not there to help me. Otherwise I wouldn’t be so rude.
(On cell.) Hi. It’s me. Listen. I’m taking the afternoon off. “You know who” has had a major tragedy in her life. And she needs me to listen.
What’s the problem? How many pieces do they want for the Chicago store? Can we make delivery on that?
Well, call China—the number is on my ’puter. ’PUTER. Computer. I don’t have time to say the whole word. I don’t have a secretary! (To SIOBHAN.) No offense.
Just do it! I have a friend in CRISIS for crying out loud. Try and keep up with me. Ask that new designer person if you need help. He should have the number for China. No. Do NOT have him call me. He has been creeping on my book for a whole year. Creeping on my book. Facebook. Never mind. Go ask a young person.
SIOBHAN: Friends listen to me when I speak. My needs are as important as other people’s needs.
CASSIE: Could you do your affirmations a little quieter, honey? I’ll be off in a second, angel.
SIOBHAN: I deserve to take up space.
CASSIE: And you do. That’s right. You go, girl. (Into cell.) Honey. I need to hang up. “You know who” is very needy right now because of that thing that happened to her. I can’t tell you now. She’s sitting right here. I’ll text you later. Call CHINA!
(The WAITER comes back. He is on cell, listening. He puts two coffees down.)
I didn’t ask for coffee, but thank you.
WAITER: (To CASSIE.) I’m an intuitive. I know things.
CASSIE: Oh. Well, thank you.
WAITER: No worries.
CASSIE: Do I look worried?
WAITER: (Into cell.) And what did he say? And what did she say?
CASSIE: Where can I smoke?
WAITER: Out the front door and around the back. Behind the building.
(He points. She goes.)
CASSIE: He knew I needed coffee? But he couldn’t intuit I need to smoke?
WAITER: (To a customer in the audience.) Yes, I will be with you in a minute! Put your hand down or I will call you out like you’re a number in a bingo game. (Cell.) And what did she say? She SAID that?
(He looks at someone else in the audience.) I’m sorry. I don’t know where your waiter is. (Cell.) And what did HE say? Uh-huh uh-huh. Wait a second I’m getting a text.
(He texts and speaks while texting.) Not free 4 din 2 night. Sorry. Send.
Hi. I’m back. Yes. It was him. The married guy I’m kinda dating. Am I a bad person? I am? I don’t think that I am. Tch. Is that your call waiting? UH! Yeah. Go ahead. I’ll hold.
(He waits and looks around. To same audience “customer.”)
Sorry I was rude. What did you need? (In cell.) Oh hi, hold on. (To customer.) Hold on a second. (To cell.) I’m at work. Somebody wants something. (To customer.) What? (Cell.) No. Just hold a second. Hold on. (To customer.) What do you need, a check? Oh. Well why didn’t you say so? Pay on your way out. (Cell.) Hold on. I’m getting another text from the married guy. (Reading and texting.)
(Lights down on café. Lights up on CASSIE “outside” the café holding an unlit cigarette.)
CASSIE: (On cell.) I’m out with my assistant. She’s talking my ear off so I came out for a cigarette. God. (Looking at audience.) You should see all the smokers out here. I’m trying to quit. I’m down to three unlit cigarettes a day. No, I just hold them. It’s something to put in my mouth. Ha ha. I was at the Kenneth Cole sample sale. Clean simple lines never go out of fashion. No. Then I went to Dulcifino. And there was a really pretty pink blouse. And one was coral, and one was turquoise. I know, sweetie. Sweetie. I know the colors aren’t right for here. They are for my trip to Florida. You can’t wear black in Florida. Well, you just can’t.
Yes, they are pastel, but they are pretty. Why are you being so hostile to pastels? I choose colors for a living. Hellllooo … I have a magnificent sense of color.
We’re leaving next week. It’s Shavuot. So we have to go. It’s the birthday of the Jewish religion. That’s all I know. I’m not a very good Jew. But apparently it’s very important. Bradley jokes that I’m only Jewish by injection. We have to see his family. Well they can’t live forever. And where there’s a will, there’s a way. LOL.
(Lights black out and come right back on. The WAITER is now sitting. SIOBHAN is pouring him coffee.)
WAITER: Well. I hate the word “marriage” as a concept. Why not call it a civil union? It’s not like marriage worked out for all those people anyway. The guy texting me is married for crying out loud. Hold on that’s him calling now. Hey, Bradley. (Laughs.) A shirt and pants and an apron. Yes. It’s hot. It’s very hawt. Boxers. Or briefs. I don’t remember. You can find out later. No, I’m not free to talk like this now. I am working. (To SIOBHAN.) Men! Can live with ’em, can’t kill ’em. (To cell.) ANYwho. I have to hang up. Call me later. Maybe I can get free. I have to go. (Listens.)
Stop it. I’m sitting next to some sad woman with a tragedy or something. I don’t know. When I find out, I’ll tell you. But I think it’s something really really bad. She was crying and everything. I know. Who are all these people who can have coffee during the day? Doesn’t anybody work? (To her.) Not you, I’m glad you’re here. (In phone.) Bradley! I’m hanging up. Bye. Call me. (He hangs up.)
(CASSIE comes back to table. WAITER gets up.)
CASSIE: OK. I’m all yours now. What are you doing in my chair. Get up. (Her cell rings.) It’s my husband. I have to take it. It’s the last one. I promise.
(The waiter sits on the other side of SIOBHAN so she is now between the WAITER and CASSIE.)
Yes, dear. No. I left the office. I am out with Siobhan. My friend Siobhan. (Lowering her voice.) My assistant. She’s the permanent temp in my office. Yes. The one in AA and DA and SA. She’s in all the anonymous groups. I don’t want to tell you. She is sitting right next to me. It’s supposed to be anonymous. (To SIOBHAN.) Right, honey? (In cell.) Bradley. Bradley! You’ve met her a gazillion times. She delivers your dry cleaning.
Right. Siobhan. It’s an Irish name. She’s my little shiksa friend. I was shopping the stores for product when she called. Siobhan! S-I-O. No S like Sam … S-i-o-b-h-a-n.
Well, I don’t know. The first syllable is pronounced shhh like SHUT UP. And Vaughn. Like, von. The bh must make a v sound. I don’t know! They’re Irish. They were probably drunk.
Oh give me a break. I’m tired of all this politically correct nonsense. The Irish drink, Jews shop and actors are waiters and that’s the end of that. Stereotypes are stereotypes for a reason. Uh-huh. Well, she needed to talk, so I took the day off. That’s the kind of person I am. Bradley!
I told you what happened to her. Yes, I did. I told you. Well, I’m out in public—I can’t tell you again. Try and replay the conversation in your memory. I thought you were busy tonight. I just made plans to go to yoga—I thought you had a client dinner. Oh. Well, order in. Who’s calling you? OK. Well, call me back. (To SIOBHAN.) Gotta tinkle, honey. Be right back.
(She goes to the restroom. WAITER calls Bradley.)
WAITER: Hey, Brad. I’m suddenly free tonight if you want to come over. The thing I was doing got canceled. What? You a
re bad. Yeah. I can take a picture of it on my cell—but I would need to go to the bathroom.
(WAITER leaves.)
SIOBHAN: Wow. Wow, and wow. Wherever you go—there you are. Someone said that.
Sometimes I feel like my brain is going to explode. I don’t know how to be alive in this world anymore. Sometimes I feel completely invisible. And then sometimes I feel like I am the elephant in the living room.
I had this stupid idea that when I got sober and stopped doing drugs and stopped being a sex addict—that my life would be better. But then there are all these PEOPLE that come along—and you didn’t notice them before because you were self-medicating—so not only “wherever you go there you are,” but “wherever you go—there THEY are.”
And then for the five minutes a day I’m NOT thinking about myself … I turn on TV and I hear the same three topics hashed and rehashed to death! The same ten sentences are repeated on the Today show and the This show and the THAT show … The same shit. Over and over.
I am worn out by consumers … and consumption and all the me me me.
(A customer enters with a violin case under his arm and stands by the WAIT TO BE SEATED sign. She turns her attention to him.)
What do you think of me. Me and my life. Me and my little motherfucking life. And I am sorry to use the word fuck. I tried to think of another word to express how I feel … and you know what? There isn’t one. “If you were more intelligent you could express yourself without resorting to the use of profanity.”
Oh really? Well FUCK YOU! I am NOT more intelligent. ’Cause you have FUCKING used that up in me. I have lost that chance. I have missed that boat. That ship has sailed.
Do you like my nautical references more than saying fuck? I am not a seafarer. I was NOT raised on a lovely motherfucking lake. With “water rights.” I did not even SEE an ocean until one week ago. And that was an accident. I must have taken a wrong turn at Albuquerque.
That’s a Bugs Bunny reference. You kids today don’t know about Bugs Bunny. He was the first person I saw dressed up in drag. He used to put on lipstick and kiss Elmer Fudd. And that’s when I realized—why do I have to wear lipstick? And yet, I do. I still have luscious lips. Don’t you think?
Are you all staring at my luscious lips?
Oh God. I think my medication is starting to wear off.
(To violin man.) You’d better go. I don’t think you’re going to get service today. The waiter is off taking pictures of his penis.
(The man looks horrified or confused and leaves.)
Well, that shut him up.
They should list the side effects for going off your medication.
Side effects include … “having an actual feeling.” Actually hearing the people around you. Realizing your life is a mess. Your relationships shallow.
Bugs Bunny probably wouldn’t be allowed to be taught in school today. He’d be on Prozac. Ricochet Rabbit would be on lithium. I’m bing bing bing! Ricochet Rabbit! Oh my God. I don’t think I should have stopped cold turkey …
(CASSIE returns.)
CASSIE: I’m back. And I am all ears.
SIOBHAN: People don’t really care. Don’t you find that people mostly just want to talk about themselves?
CASSIE: No, I don’t find that at all.
SIOBHAN: You don’t?
CASSIE: No. For instance. The other day I was at a convention. I was the guest speaker …
SIOBHAN: You’re doing it now.
CASSIE: What?
SIOBHAN: You’re talking about yourself.
CASSIE: I am not. I’m explaining to you how I don’t talk about myself. By way of example.
SIOBHAN: Go on.
CASSIE: And I was giving a speech. A pep talk to the poor women there. Mostly homeless abused women. Horrible, unattractive homeless abused women.
Some of them still fat—which I never understand. How do you stay fat when you are homeless?
The government should study that. Fat homeless people. How? We could solve world hunger problems if we crack that nut. These women probably really DO have a thyroid problem. Sad …
SIOBHAN: I’ve lost the thread.
CASSIE: I’m telling about how if homeless women would just dress better they could get a job. That’s really their biggest problem.
SIOBHAN: Uh-huh.
CASSIE: And it’s great! Because at the end of my lecture—we give them all donated clothing and free cell phones. And we show them how to make phone calls and put on makeup.
Well, some of them were prostitutes—so we show THEM how to put on LESS makeup. It’s really one of the best things I’ve done in my adult life. I really feel good about myself.
SIOBHAN: Side effects of going off your medication include: You will absolutely hear the narcissism of the people around you.
CASSIE: You know, you never really did tell me what happened to you.
SIOBHAN: You will question every decision you have ever made in your life.
CASSIE: People are asking me what your problem is—and I am embarrassed to tell them, I don’t know. And I should know. I am your boss and best friend. And it is not my prurient interest that wants to know. I care. I care deeply. Do I need to explain prurient? Tell me what happened.
SIOBHAN: I have told you all about it several times. In gruesome detail.
CASSIE: You did? Well, tell it to me again. I probably wasn’t listening because I was so upset for you.
SIOBHAN: Do not go off your medication without your doctor’s approval—as this may make you too aware of the people around you.
CASSIE: ’Cause I am in pain too. I am a feeling person.
SIOBHAN: Can we be quiet together for a minute?
CASSIE: Sure, honey. I love being quiet. I am a very quiet person. Silence is very profound to me.
(SIOBHAN makes a “sshhhh.” Raising her finger gently to her mouth.)
CASSIE: OK. We’ll be quiet now. Just enjoy each other’s company. Until you’re ready to talk and you can tell me what happened to you. OK. Let’s stop talking.
(She sits quietly. Quiet. Quiet. Then.)
Was it about all your credit card debt? Infidelity? Cancer? AIDS?
SIOBHAN: Yes. It was all of that. Now please. Shhhhh.
CASSIE: OK. It’s nice to be quiet. People should learn to not speak. There is too much people speak. And I am the first to admit it. I’m going to India next year for six-week silence. I will love that. You know … if you ever wanted to slip into one of my homeless women talks … you could take home an outfit or two. Oh shi-nannigans. There’s my beep. Do you mind if I text? I’ll do it quietly.
(She moves to another part of the café. WAITER takes this opportunity to move over to SIOBHAN.)
WAITER: I had a revelation yesterday … I had a midafternoon appointment and I don’t like to come home early unless it’s winter … If I’m interacting with people—even here—I am alive I am fresh. It was midafternoon and I was home … And I knew there had to be a reason I would go home early.
And there was a movie star standing outside my apartment. Filming. It was a sign. And there are people in this business that function at a million kilowatts. And I can’t believe I’m not producing something. And here is this powerhouse. And I knew something big was going to happen to me that day.
SIOBHAN: Did it?
WAITER: No. But it doesn’t always. The seed may have been planted. The seed. Who knows? Maybe I will see that actor again. Maybe she will come in here and recognize me from the street.
SIOBHAN: And do what? Give you a job?
WAITER: It could happen. There’s a reason I’m not further along. Here’s my excuse. For not being further along.
I stopped doing anything after September 11. And that’s not an excuse. But it is. And it’s true. My little brother was born on that day and he can speak three languages now. He’s won awards for little-kid things already. He’s practically applied to medical school already—and I still work here.
A whole generation is growin
g up and I still work here, stuck. Stuck in the Sha Sha. I feel so disconnected sometimes. And when I meet someone—like the movie star (Smiles at SIOBHAN.) or even you … I feel better. Like there is hope.
SIOBHAN: Really?
WAITER: Being here with you. Right now. This is a very pure moment for me.
CASSIE: Ohmygod. My husband. First he’s free. Then he’s not free. Then he’s free? Then he’s not free.
WAITER: Siobhan and I are having a quiet moment.
CASSIE: Fabulous. I love quiet moments. What a perfect way to meditate. Silence. Yum. Silence.
WAITER: Yes, silence. (Silence.) I’m going to channel an entity now. There is someone who wants to come through. Someone who wants to speak to you.