a ten-minute play
by Jennifer Kollmer
jen@kollmers.net
Saturday night in
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Gwen |
28. Florist. |
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Heather |
24. Lawyer. |
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Kelly |
28. Police officer. |
A women’s restroom at a nice restaurant. If stalls are visible, at least one’s door is firmly shut. Alternatively, the “stall” can be offstage.
KELLY, wearing a conservative shirt and slacks, holds a white silk blouse in her hands and dabs at it with a wad of paper towels. GWEN is shirtless, wearing just a camisole with her skirt. She rummages through her large colorful tote bag.
GWEN
Like, the only other thing I have is hairspray. Isn’t that supposed to remove something?
KELLY
Ink. It’s totally different. Shit.
GWEN (heading toward the door)
What about salt, then? I’m practically dressed. I could just—
HEATHER (from inside stall)
Salt’s for grease, Janelle, not wine.
KELLY
[to stall] That you, uh—?
[to Gwen] What the hell’s her name?
GWEN
Heather?
A flush, and HEATHER, in a stylish sweater set, storms out of the stall.
HEATHER
I cannot go back out there. Dinner for Six has a seriously distorted idea of “quality singles”: Clint’s got a nose only a mother could love, Steve’s not sure what he does for a living, and Allen—did you catch those fingernails?
And we’re stuck with these three gems for at least two more hours. I know you’re new to this scene, but I’ve been to eleven of these. It’s only going to get worse through the meal, then they haul that damn dessert cart over and all three guys jump on the tiramisu because, let’s face it, men are dogs, so there’s at least another half hour added to the running tab of how much of your life’s being wasted while these losers wolf down 500 calories. Meanwhile you’ve known since the first martini that this is hopeless.
[turning to wash her hands and noticing the damaged shirt] Oh, man. I’d meant to tell you how much I liked that blouse, too. At least now you’ve got an excuse to get away from those dorks.
GWEN
They seem fine enough. Don’t you think so, Kelly?
KELLY
Those guys don’t have a “fine” bone in their limp bodies.
HEATHER
I need to face the fact that hot guys don’t need matchmaking services. If we were smart we wouldn’t even go back to the table. Demand a refund on our way out.
GWEN
I think Clint might be okay.
KELLY
He could be hiding a lot under that leather coat.
GWEN
He looks cuddly.
HEATHER
He’s a liar.
KELLY
How do you know?
HEATHER
I have strong instincts. Like with clients, I just know when they’re lying. The pro bono ones especially.
KELLY
Oh right, you’re a lawyer.
HEATHER
Heather Gordon, esquire. I still love the sound of it, thank God. The title’s just about my only reward. Truth be told, all of my clients have been kind of pro bono so far. But you got to prove yourself on your own before you can join Thompson and Blum.
KELLY
Why make a career of keeping criminals on the street?
HEATHER
Protecting the innocent. Cops make mistakes, you know.
A beat. KELLY returns to the shirt.
KELLY
I am going to get this out, Janelle.
GWEN (rummaging through her bag)
Man, I need a joint.
HEATHER
No, you don’t.
GWEN
Uh, yeah, I—
HEATHER
Trust me,
you do not need any controlled substance at this time. But I’m sure Kelly here can differentiate
between a sarcastic remark made...solely in jest and...justifiable grounds for
searching your bag. Being one of
GWEN pauses, then pulls a lipstick out of her bag.
GWEN
I know she’s a cop, Heather. I was at the table, too, remember?
HEATHER
Is that hard? Being a lady cop? I mean, aren’t the guys all chauvinist p—men?
KELLY
I don’t waste time worrying about it. Too busy doing my job. Or paperwork for the lawyers.
GWEN
Anyhow, I think Clint seemed like a good soul. His aura’s totally blue.
HEATHER
No way. He’s one of those guys who can’t deal with your being more together than them.
KELLY
And I suppose being a lawyer is more together than just about anything.
HEATHER
We’re women. We’re inherently more together.
KELLY
[holding up the blouse] This isn’t working. Fuck me. Maybe I can get you a new one or something. What’d it cost anyhow?
GWEN
Really, it’s nothing special. I just wore it because my husband thought it looked hot—well, a long time ago.
HEATHER and KELLY do a double-take on the word “husband.”
GWEN
We’re divorcing. Like,
legally. He lives in
HEATHER
Better get on that.
GWEN
It’s uncontested.
KELLY
Good for you, getting back in the game so quick. Took me years.
HEATHER
Neither of you said you were divorcées. Don’t you think you should start off with full disclosure?
KELLY
Do any of those guys need to know?
GWEN
Think Clint would sleep with me if I asked? Back before Pete, I was—like, wow—you know? Dating was natural. I knew I had something. Guys knew it. I knew they knew it. But it’s been like forever and I can’t even read Clint.
HEATHER
Like Clint’s a tough read. No, I’m serious: You’d think the membership fee would weed out the losers. [beat] Anyhow, white wine dilutes red.
KELLY
Where’d you come up with that?
HEATHER
Or you can just take your chances with the dry cleaner.
GWEN
It’s totally not worth it.
KELLY
I’m paying for it.
HEATHER
Four ninety at Ricardo’s on Fourteenth and Burnside. But don’t go to them. They ruined my suede halter from BeBe. You should try the white wine.
KELLY
I’ve never heard of that.
HEATHER
No, I insist. I’ll get it for you.
KELLY
But—
HEATHER
You stay put. I’ll be right back.
HEATHER dashes off.
KELLY
Am I supposed to pay her for this wine she’s getting?
GWEN
Nah, she volunteered.
KELLY
I can’t believe I did this.
GWEN
I was probably meant to let go of this shirt anyhow. I just know it’s got Pete’s bad mojo. Maybe Heather can just drink that wine instead.
KELLY
You get a load of her?
GWEN
Total green aura. And I think she’s really tense about the dating thing. I mean, who isn’t?
KELLY
That esquire shit, you know she’s looking down her nose at everyone.
GWEN
I don’t know. Green auras can seem like that, even though they don’t mean anything by it. They’re just...motivated. That’s why they’re drawn to money and power. You know, she might have a bit of a red overlay going on.
KELLY
You really like Clint?
GWEN
I don’t know. I mean, sure. He’ll do. Not really looking for Mr. Right just yet. Pete and I are totally broken up, but I just don’t know...
KELLY
Then why shell out for a membership?
GWEN
Oh, that. My sister Janelle, she had a real date tonight, and I’m sleeping on her couch anyhow, so why not just be her? They don’t even check. My real name’s Gwen, by the way.
GWEN offers her hand to KELLY, who shakes it.
KELLY
Are you going to tell Clint?
GWEN
Why?
KELLY
What if he calls tomorrow and asks for Janelle?
GWEN
Oh, he doesn’t seem like the calling type to me.
KELLY
He joined a matchmaking service.
GWEN
Good point. I’ll give him my cell number then. But he won’t call. It’s okay.
HEATHER enters, hurriedly sipping a glass of white wine.
HEATHER
Not bad. We should drink whatever we don’t use on the shirt. Female bonding. What’d I miss?
GWEN
How are the boys?
HEATHER
Who knows? I went straight to the bar. Clint and Allen are probably elbowing each other and grunting by now. Seriously not worth your concern.
You’re not really thinking of hooking up with Clint. Please.
KELLY
If Janelle wants to have some fun, you’ve got no business telling her she can’t. You may know all about six-month waiting periods, but until you’ve been divorced, you have no idea.
HEATHER
I know none of it—the two-year track to the good firm, a partnership at, say, 34—none of it matters if you’re so pathetically bored with everything all you ever want to do is cry yourself to sleep.
GWEN
Heather, I don’t—
HEATHER
Yeah, well, anyhow, why don’t you give this a whirl? So we can get out of here.
HEATHER hands the glass to KELLY, who applies some wine to the stain.
GWEN
Thanks for the wine. You really didn’t have to.
HEATHER
It’s...my treat. Always ready to help a woman in distress.
KELLY
This isn’t doing anything.
HEATHER
Try again. You need to use more.
KELLY
I used plenty.
HEATHER
Let me.
HEATHER tries to take the shirt from KELLY, who isn’t letting go.
GWEN
Look, I really appreciate it and everything, but why don’t I just take it and...
HEATHER
You can’t put it back on like that.
GWEN
Sure I can.
KELLY
It’s all wet. Especially now. Take mine. I’ll wear the wet one.
GWEN
No, really. Your shirt’s too small anyhow.
KELLY
How about her cardigan, then?
HEATHER
I’m not staying.
GWEN
I’m fine. I’ll just borrow Clint’s jacket or something.
KELLY
Just till it dries. Let her have her night already.
GWEN
Just till I can get squared away with Clint?
HEATHER
“Squared away.” Clint is way too gross for you, okay?
GWEN
Help a woman in distress?
KELLY
Unless you wanted Clint for yourself.
HEATHER
Huh.
KELLY
Then you’ll do it.
HEATHER
At least promise me you’ll use condoms. The last thing the world needs—
KELLY and GWEN shoot HEATHER a look.
HEATHER
Okay!
HEATHER removes her cardigan and hands it to GWEN.
Blackout.