The Guy is here. And also Life/Play, physicalized.
The Guy has flowers, candy, a card.
THE GUY
Happy Anniversary.
LIFE/PLAY
Huh?
THE GUY
It’s our anniversary. Come on, you remember. Our one-month anniversary.
LIFE/PLAY
Oh.
THE GUY
We met a month ago. And I’ve been having a great time. Really. So I bought you some candy, these flowers (I hope you like roses) and a card. Read the card. Go ahead. Read it.
LIFE/PLAY
“Thank you for a lovely month. Here’s to many more. Yours. The Guy.”
THE GUY
Do you like it?
LIFE/PLAY
Sure.
THE GUY
You seem… underwhelmed.
LIFE/PLAY
Well…
THE GUY
Come on. You can tell me anything. We have that kind of relationship, you and I.
LIFE/PLAY
I don’t want to dampen your otherwise festive mood for today’s play.
THE GUY
It’s okay. There’ll be more than one for today. The Redneck Intellectual called me twice last night. So I’ll stay festive.
LIFE/PLAY
One… I’m a play. YOUR play as a matter of fact, so it’s really not like we’re in a “relationship” because “relationships” are generally mutual arrangements between people, and I’m not really a person, and this isn’t really mutual (because I’m a figment of your imagination) so this is really more like a sex slave / master kind of thing, which wouldn’t need flowers and candy and a card to mark the passage of time.
And while we’re on that subject, one month anniversaries are so… lame. I’m sorry, they are. I’m mean, who celebrates lasting a MONTH? What kind of marker is that? Who cares? So you make it a month… great. You’ve made it a month. Get back to me when you’ve added eleven others to that. Because that’s an accomplishment. That’s a thing worth marking with candy and flowers and a card. Because that shows survival. That shows the struggle to make something work. That shows that you’ve really made something.
And oh, let’s not forget the other men. Seriously. There’s a parade of handsome men traipsing through this play on a daily basis and you’re here telling me you’re committed to ME? Pshaw. Yes, I say Pshaw. Because that is how I feel.
THE GUY
You can be cranky.
LIFE/PLAY
How often does a playwright let his play speak for itself?
THE GUY
I should have just bought you carnations.
LIFE/PLAY
Maybe so.
An awkward pause.
LIFE/PLAY (cont.)
What?
THE GUY
There’s more.
LIFE/PLAY
Huh?
THE GUY
Fellas, you can come in now!
The other fellas in the play: The Curiosity, The Fella, J, The Brother, The Brother’s Boyfriend, ect. , appear, dressed as mariachis.
LIFE/PLAY
Oh my God.
THE GUY
I thought this would be funny and endearing.
LIFE/PLAY
You’re troubled, you know that?
THE GUY
Nah. I just enjoy… well… joy. Hit it!
The mariachis begin their song, a mariachi version of some sweet wedding standard, maybe “Color My World” or something like that.
Life/Play looks pissed. The Guy looks happy.
The one-month anniversary, no matter how ridiculous, has been marked.
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2 comments:
I now feel paranoid that if I go back and read earlier posts, the play will have changed itself, lost some weight, cut its hair, bought new clothes and shoved everything it didn't like about itself into the margin. Ahhhh!
...and yeah...carnations are tacky...I'm glad you didn't get carnations...and as sappy as it is...I LOVE anniversaries...be it a one month...9 and a half months...3 years...not that a person really needs a reason like an anniversary to have sex?! Right?
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