Thursday, July 18, 2013
MALE - DEV
ON THE LINE
Joe Roland
twenties to thirties
Dev, a blue collar guy, is talking to his buddies about the power and the beauty of women's legs.
I love legs. I'm not saying I'm a legman. That would be crass. But rhere is a power, a true and real power thar a pair of beautiful legs wields over me. I can't breathe, my heart races, my palms sweat and I feci like I did right before I asked Alissa Liberati to the prom. On I he verge. Suddenly the universe and its possibilities no longer escape me. In fact it's just the opposite. In the presence of physical heauty suddenly everything makes sense. I am here to bear witness. Yes it's uue I have fallen in love with strippers, but not the ones at lh<.: places where you're charged twenty bucks to get in, twenty Bucks for some fruity fuckin' drink and they run a credit check if, god forbid, some girl should happen to wave her ass in your general
direction. No. These girls work in places with no cover, no frills and no upward mobility. This is the last house on the block for rhcse girls. And every once in a while there's this exquisite beauty, quiet, lonely, unobtrusive, you know, "Look at me if you want to, I'll be over here." And of course you can't look away. Because she served you coffee in the diner that morning, or she sat next to you on the bus, or checked your groceries or came to your door offering you a weekend with Jesus. She holds the irresistible lure of the attainable woman. It is love. It's as real as any other ... Who's to say whose love is better than the next guy's. Love is love.
Joe Roland
twenties to thirties
Dev, a blue collar guy, is talking to his buddies about the power and the beauty of women's legs.
I love legs. I'm not saying I'm a legman. That would be crass. But rhere is a power, a true and real power thar a pair of beautiful legs wields over me. I can't breathe, my heart races, my palms sweat and I feci like I did right before I asked Alissa Liberati to the prom. On I he verge. Suddenly the universe and its possibilities no longer escape me. In fact it's just the opposite. In the presence of physical heauty suddenly everything makes sense. I am here to bear witness. Yes it's uue I have fallen in love with strippers, but not the ones at lh<.: places where you're charged twenty bucks to get in, twenty Bucks for some fruity fuckin' drink and they run a credit check if, god forbid, some girl should happen to wave her ass in your general
direction. No. These girls work in places with no cover, no frills and no upward mobility. This is the last house on the block for rhcse girls. And every once in a while there's this exquisite beauty, quiet, lonely, unobtrusive, you know, "Look at me if you want to, I'll be over here." And of course you can't look away. Because she served you coffee in the diner that morning, or she sat next to you on the bus, or checked your groceries or came to your door offering you a weekend with Jesus. She holds the irresistible lure of the attainable woman. It is love. It's as real as any other ... Who's to say whose love is better than the next guy's. Love is love.
FEMALE - DONNA
DONNA
Donna unfolds the pitfalls ofseeing a married man.
There was never any secret. I knew from the first he was a married man. So, I can't blame him. And, at first, it worked out okay. I'd made up my mind to accept the fact that there was no future. But as time went on, and I fell more and more in love, it became harder and harder to accept the fact that it was a totally hopeless situation.
In the beginning you sell yourself on the realities. I mean, you're an adult, you're going into this thing with your eyes wide open, right? And all of this sounds good at first, you buy into all the cliches. But where there are really deep feelings involved, well ... you can't intellectualize when it comes to feelings.
We met once a week. At my apartment. We never had weekends together, that was understood from the first. His weekends were reserved for his family. Initially this was okay, but after a while I wanted more of him and I began to resent him for being with another woman, a woman who obviously still had a hold on him and he respected.
Little by little, I grew to resent him-the whole situation. Even though I loved him, I started to grow angry deep down inside. And, after a while, this anger begins to eat away at you and it takes over and things are said which lead to arguments and uglies. And even though you make up, there is this residual anger that continues to undercut and there are lingering resentments and psychological reprisals. And once this happens, it's the beginning of the end.
I haven't seen Dave in over six months. And I still love him. Maybe I always will. But the whole thing was a lie, false. A woman needs her self-respect, needs hope and something solid and love that's free and open. And besides, there's something just plain sick about being involved with another woman's man.
Donna unfolds the pitfalls ofseeing a married man.
There was never any secret. I knew from the first he was a married man. So, I can't blame him. And, at first, it worked out okay. I'd made up my mind to accept the fact that there was no future. But as time went on, and I fell more and more in love, it became harder and harder to accept the fact that it was a totally hopeless situation.
In the beginning you sell yourself on the realities. I mean, you're an adult, you're going into this thing with your eyes wide open, right? And all of this sounds good at first, you buy into all the cliches. But where there are really deep feelings involved, well ... you can't intellectualize when it comes to feelings.
We met once a week. At my apartment. We never had weekends together, that was understood from the first. His weekends were reserved for his family. Initially this was okay, but after a while I wanted more of him and I began to resent him for being with another woman, a woman who obviously still had a hold on him and he respected.
Little by little, I grew to resent him-the whole situation. Even though I loved him, I started to grow angry deep down inside. And, after a while, this anger begins to eat away at you and it takes over and things are said which lead to arguments and uglies. And even though you make up, there is this residual anger that continues to undercut and there are lingering resentments and psychological reprisals. And once this happens, it's the beginning of the end.
I haven't seen Dave in over six months. And I still love him. Maybe I always will. But the whole thing was a lie, false. A woman needs her self-respect, needs hope and something solid and love that's free and open. And besides, there's something just plain sick about being involved with another woman's man.
FEMALE- PAULA
PAULA
Paula, a waitress, speaks of the time when hopes for a successful acting career were a consuming, driving passion.
I was going to be famous. And rich, of course, oh sure. Anyway, this is what I'd promised myself. I think a lot of us set goals like that when everything is new and untarnished. But as time wears on, and the years slip into history, you learn to settle for less, to lower your expectations for ruling the world. I mean, after all, there are realities. When I carne to work here the idea was for it to be like a temporary thing, kind of a stopover on my way to stardom.
At first, for a heck of a long time, I didn't take the job seriously. I fluffed it, goofed off, you know. My mind wasn't in it. I don't know how they put up with me. I was lazy and flip and a terrible waitress. On my days off I'd go around to agents and casting directors and production companies trying to make connections and pick up acting work. I was in a little theatre group, a workshop, you name it. Every now and then I'd get work in a feature or something on TV. Nothing big, just in a background shot or a group or maybe I'd have a line or two. Just enough to keep me going because people would see me and compliment me and tell me I was this great type. But the jobs were few and far between. Most of the time-nothing. After a few years of living on the edge and hearing a lot of false flattery and phony promises I began to tire of it. It was a hopeless, frustrating life.
Little by little I began to settle in here. Started to get more into the job, got to be a better waitress, became professional. Now, I'm the best here. And the best paid. And I make the biggest tips. I do all right. And I like the job and the people. Especially myoId, steady customers. It's like-like they're family, you know. Occasionally, though, I wonder if I could have made it. I was a great-looking girl. And I had talent, I think. Who knows?
Would either of you like dessert?
Paula, a waitress, speaks of the time when hopes for a successful acting career were a consuming, driving passion.
I was going to be famous. And rich, of course, oh sure. Anyway, this is what I'd promised myself. I think a lot of us set goals like that when everything is new and untarnished. But as time wears on, and the years slip into history, you learn to settle for less, to lower your expectations for ruling the world. I mean, after all, there are realities. When I carne to work here the idea was for it to be like a temporary thing, kind of a stopover on my way to stardom.
At first, for a heck of a long time, I didn't take the job seriously. I fluffed it, goofed off, you know. My mind wasn't in it. I don't know how they put up with me. I was lazy and flip and a terrible waitress. On my days off I'd go around to agents and casting directors and production companies trying to make connections and pick up acting work. I was in a little theatre group, a workshop, you name it. Every now and then I'd get work in a feature or something on TV. Nothing big, just in a background shot or a group or maybe I'd have a line or two. Just enough to keep me going because people would see me and compliment me and tell me I was this great type. But the jobs were few and far between. Most of the time-nothing. After a few years of living on the edge and hearing a lot of false flattery and phony promises I began to tire of it. It was a hopeless, frustrating life.
Little by little I began to settle in here. Started to get more into the job, got to be a better waitress, became professional. Now, I'm the best here. And the best paid. And I make the biggest tips. I do all right. And I like the job and the people. Especially myoId, steady customers. It's like-like they're family, you know. Occasionally, though, I wonder if I could have made it. I was a great-looking girl. And I had talent, I think. Who knows?
Would either of you like dessert?
FEMALE - JULIE
JULIE
Julie remonstrates regarding her lesbianism during this parental confrontation.
You've really never accepted it, have you, Mother? You, the family-any of you. You're still all so embarrassed, so damned ashamed. It's so glaringly obvious in your attitudes.
And how do you think it makes me feel? And Sandi? You think that she can't tell, that she doesn't feel ill at ease because of your condescending manners, your devastating sidelong glances, your sweet smugness, your, "I guess we'll just have to grin and bear it," attitudes? Please, Mother, don't do us any favors,
okay?
Is it so terrible to love another woman? Is it? Does it make me some kind of far-out freak, or something? Is lesbianism something so unusual, so terrible, so sinful? (Pause.) Yes, I suppose for this family it is. It squares with all you've ever heard and imagined about the evilness of "queers" and "homos."
You're all so damned threatened, it seems, so weak. Like your religion. If your faith was valid it would have room for growth and enlightenment, wouldn't it, instead of having to protect itself through fear?
You're all so terribly afraid. Afraid of truth, afraid of honest feelings. You're all so hopelessly, terribly, goddamned afraid! And you know what? I pity you. Yes, I pity you, I really do. Because you're all so narrow-minded and unbelievably small and because your prejudices shut out love.
Julie remonstrates regarding her lesbianism during this parental confrontation.
You've really never accepted it, have you, Mother? You, the family-any of you. You're still all so embarrassed, so damned ashamed. It's so glaringly obvious in your attitudes.
And how do you think it makes me feel? And Sandi? You think that she can't tell, that she doesn't feel ill at ease because of your condescending manners, your devastating sidelong glances, your sweet smugness, your, "I guess we'll just have to grin and bear it," attitudes? Please, Mother, don't do us any favors,
okay?
Is it so terrible to love another woman? Is it? Does it make me some kind of far-out freak, or something? Is lesbianism something so unusual, so terrible, so sinful? (Pause.) Yes, I suppose for this family it is. It squares with all you've ever heard and imagined about the evilness of "queers" and "homos."
You're all so damned threatened, it seems, so weak. Like your religion. If your faith was valid it would have room for growth and enlightenment, wouldn't it, instead of having to protect itself through fear?
You're all so terribly afraid. Afraid of truth, afraid of honest feelings. You're all so hopelessly, terribly, goddamned afraid! And you know what? I pity you. Yes, I pity you, I really do. Because you're all so narrow-minded and unbelievably small and because your prejudices shut out love.
FEMALE - LISA
LISA
Lisa speaks before her chapter of AA.
I started drinking about seven years ago. Casually, at first. Beer and wine. Harmless enough, I thought. At least it seemed so at the time. I mean ... I was having fun, so-so why not, okay?
The habit crept up on me subtly, slowly taking over my life. I first realized I had a serious problem when drinking was no longer enjoyable. And afterward I felt flat and depressed. By then, though, I needed it. I had to have it. I was hooked.
At first, I thought I could shake it. But I couldn't. I tried but ... I couldn't. Every commitment I made to quit, I broke.
I was slipping more and more into the alcoholic pattern: Reckless behavior, car wrecks, trouble with relationships, murderoushangovers, waking up in strange beds. And my job was going straight to hell, too. Then there were the overpowering feelings of guilt and remorse and hating myself and all of that. Which became this terrible nightmare of a cycle, you know. Repeating itself over and over until I was on the bottom emotionally, constantly depressed, feeling utterly worthless and afraid.
Then finally, thank God, I called AA. I finally got up the nerve to face up, to come to grips with my problem. And that was the turning point; that's when I started coming back, regaining my self-respect.
It's been nearly a year since I've had a drink. A year this next Tuesday, to be exact. I'm making it. By God, I'm making it. One day at a time.
Lisa speaks before her chapter of AA.
I started drinking about seven years ago. Casually, at first. Beer and wine. Harmless enough, I thought. At least it seemed so at the time. I mean ... I was having fun, so-so why not, okay?
The habit crept up on me subtly, slowly taking over my life. I first realized I had a serious problem when drinking was no longer enjoyable. And afterward I felt flat and depressed. By then, though, I needed it. I had to have it. I was hooked.
At first, I thought I could shake it. But I couldn't. I tried but ... I couldn't. Every commitment I made to quit, I broke.
I was slipping more and more into the alcoholic pattern: Reckless behavior, car wrecks, trouble with relationships, murderoushangovers, waking up in strange beds. And my job was going straight to hell, too. Then there were the overpowering feelings of guilt and remorse and hating myself and all of that. Which became this terrible nightmare of a cycle, you know. Repeating itself over and over until I was on the bottom emotionally, constantly depressed, feeling utterly worthless and afraid.
Then finally, thank God, I called AA. I finally got up the nerve to face up, to come to grips with my problem. And that was the turning point; that's when I started coming back, regaining my self-respect.
It's been nearly a year since I've had a drink. A year this next Tuesday, to be exact. I'm making it. By God, I'm making it. One day at a time.
FEMALE - ANNA
ANNA
AlIlla has the inside track on Doris Lehman's meteoric rise
within the film.
You really wanna know how she's gotten there? Well, I'll tell
you real quick how she's gotten there. She's screwed her way
to the top, that's how. She's made it with everyone from the
stock boy to the chairman. In fact, just between you and me, at
the convention in Cincinnatti last fall, you know-Joe Easton
saw her sneaking into the president's suite. The sly old boy
nailed her at the Hilton.
There must be at least twenty guys in this company who've balled her. They pass her around like chip dip. How do you think she got upstairs so quickly? Brains? No way. She's lame. But if you allow yourself to be on the bottom often enough-if you know what I mean-you're gonna make it to the top. And Doris Lehman would do it with a garden hose at halftime at the Super Bowl if she thought it would do her some good.
Sometimes I think it doesn't pay to be straight. Like me. What's being straight arrow gotten me? Zilch, that's what. Here I am, stuck down here in the computer pool with an old model Macintosh and a low-tech salary. And Lehman? Here she is making a bundle upstairs. And have you seen her office? An abstract desk, carpet a foot thick, original prints on the walls, three windows overlooking the river, and this steno chair from outer space.
And the couch in her boss' office? A hide-a-bed. (Pause.) Nope, I'm not kidding. One of the janitorial guys told me. The thing opens out and right away you've got instant motel. And knowing Lehman as I do, it probably has a built-in vibrator. The ambitious little bitch is screwing the balls off Ralph Humble, you can bet on it.
At the rate she's going she'll own this company some day. Hey, God only knows what she'll achieve. Doris Lehman could wind up humping her way into Forbes magazine.
AlIlla has the inside track on Doris Lehman's meteoric rise
within the film.
You really wanna know how she's gotten there? Well, I'll tell
you real quick how she's gotten there. She's screwed her way
to the top, that's how. She's made it with everyone from the
stock boy to the chairman. In fact, just between you and me, at
the convention in Cincinnatti last fall, you know-Joe Easton
saw her sneaking into the president's suite. The sly old boy
nailed her at the Hilton.
There must be at least twenty guys in this company who've balled her. They pass her around like chip dip. How do you think she got upstairs so quickly? Brains? No way. She's lame. But if you allow yourself to be on the bottom often enough-if you know what I mean-you're gonna make it to the top. And Doris Lehman would do it with a garden hose at halftime at the Super Bowl if she thought it would do her some good.
Sometimes I think it doesn't pay to be straight. Like me. What's being straight arrow gotten me? Zilch, that's what. Here I am, stuck down here in the computer pool with an old model Macintosh and a low-tech salary. And Lehman? Here she is making a bundle upstairs. And have you seen her office? An abstract desk, carpet a foot thick, original prints on the walls, three windows overlooking the river, and this steno chair from outer space.
And the couch in her boss' office? A hide-a-bed. (Pause.) Nope, I'm not kidding. One of the janitorial guys told me. The thing opens out and right away you've got instant motel. And knowing Lehman as I do, it probably has a built-in vibrator. The ambitious little bitch is screwing the balls off Ralph Humble, you can bet on it.
At the rate she's going she'll own this company some day. Hey, God only knows what she'll achieve. Doris Lehman could wind up humping her way into Forbes magazine.
MALE - DRAMATIC
STEWART
Stewart, a young, terminal AIDS patient, unloads his anger.
Yes, I'm bitter! And why shouldn't I be? How would you feel?
How would you like to give it up, all of this-your life? Christ,
I haven't even lived. (He turns away for a few seconds.) Death
is something that happens to other people, not you. You don't
consider it; it's out of the question, an abstract thing.
I don't want to die! I don't want to leave you and the sky,
the trees-people. You think about all of this, you know. You
think about how it'll be without you around and how things
will be still going on like always and how you're not going to
be part of it. That's one of the tragedies of it. You're gone and
you're nothing but an occasional memory or an old photo in a
shoebox in someone's closet.
You know you're not the first to die. You know this, and it
makes sense. And you know there's nothing you can do,
anyway. You repeat this logic to yourself over and over, try to
sell yourself. But you don't buy it.
Right now, I don't know if I'll be able to face death with
dignity or not. Right now I'm afraid. And I'm damned mad!
Stewart, a young, terminal AIDS patient, unloads his anger.
Yes, I'm bitter! And why shouldn't I be? How would you feel?
How would you like to give it up, all of this-your life? Christ,
I haven't even lived. (He turns away for a few seconds.) Death
is something that happens to other people, not you. You don't
consider it; it's out of the question, an abstract thing.
I don't want to die! I don't want to leave you and the sky,
the trees-people. You think about all of this, you know. You
think about how it'll be without you around and how things
will be still going on like always and how you're not going to
be part of it. That's one of the tragedies of it. You're gone and
you're nothing but an occasional memory or an old photo in a
shoebox in someone's closet.
You know you're not the first to die. You know this, and it
makes sense. And you know there's nothing you can do,
anyway. You repeat this logic to yourself over and over, try to
sell yourself. But you don't buy it.
Right now, I don't know if I'll be able to face death with
dignity or not. Right now I'm afraid. And I'm damned mad!
MALE - Dramatic Dar, mid-thirties, black
Dramatic Dar, mid-thirties, black
Darius McReele, on death row fOr sixteen years, has recently been exonerated because ofa series ofarticles written bya whitejournalist. He is a brilliant man, highly articulate, with deep political convictions,
some ofwhich he expresses here.
DAR: The problem is that we make our decisions based on news obtained from corporate-owned media outlets. What we need is Ted Tumer to finance a free-standing U.N. media division so that world crises receive air time appropriate to their level of trauma. That way, Palestinian refugee camps getting razed receive just as much air time as suicide bombers .. I'm saying that Israeli lobbyisrs have more influence than Palestinian ones and that neither side should receive more news coverage than a two-week slaughter of a million people in Botswana. · .. Our interest is in humanity .. -it's calling for intervention based on need as opposed to self-interest. And if we can only peace-keep three times a year, we should choose based on empathy and care. Because human beings care, Gerry, and our political beliefs are based on that care. Read the Bill of Rights -it's why we have identity politics to begin with -because our Founding Fathers based this sucker on humanistprinciples. So when it comes to foreign policy we need to fOllow those principles.
We need to ask ourselves, "What does that mean? -to be a part of the human race?" -independent of all other identity. What is it to be human?" And if it feels inherently inhumane to sit back and watch people die in Botswana while millions get spent chasing oil, then that's where my politics will fall; before I'm American or black or an SUV driver. I'll vote how I'm human. Period. Because politics does go that deep.
Darius McReele, on death row fOr sixteen years, has recently been exonerated because ofa series ofarticles written bya whitejournalist. He is a brilliant man, highly articulate, with deep political convictions,
some ofwhich he expresses here.
DAR: The problem is that we make our decisions based on news obtained from corporate-owned media outlets. What we need is Ted Tumer to finance a free-standing U.N. media division so that world crises receive air time appropriate to their level of trauma. That way, Palestinian refugee camps getting razed receive just as much air time as suicide bombers .. I'm saying that Israeli lobbyisrs have more influence than Palestinian ones and that neither side should receive more news coverage than a two-week slaughter of a million people in Botswana. · .. Our interest is in humanity .. -it's calling for intervention based on need as opposed to self-interest. And if we can only peace-keep three times a year, we should choose based on empathy and care. Because human beings care, Gerry, and our political beliefs are based on that care. Read the Bill of Rights -it's why we have identity politics to begin with -because our Founding Fathers based this sucker on humanistprinciples. So when it comes to foreign policy we need to fOllow those principles.
We need to ask ourselves, "What does that mean? -to be a part of the human race?" -independent of all other identity. What is it to be human?" And if it feels inherently inhumane to sit back and watch people die in Botswana while millions get spent chasing oil, then that's where my politics will fall; before I'm American or black or an SUV driver. I'll vote how I'm human. Period. Because politics does go that deep.
FEMALE - LORRAINE
LORRAINE
Lorraine, a former battered wife, tells of the violence triggered by an incident of infidelity and of lingering psychological scars.
I don't know why I did it. I was bored, I guess. Or maybe I needed to get caught. Who knows. (A long pause.)
I met Sam after work, and we started drinking, and one thing led to another. The next thing I know I'm loaded, and I wake up at one in the morning in his apartment. I called Karen and told her what had happened and asked her if Steve had called. When she said he hadn't, I asked her to cover for me. Then I called Steve and told him I was at Karen's, that I'd gotten drunk and decided to spend the night in the city at her place.
He never bought it. The next day, he inquired around and found out that I'd gotten smashed with Sam at Landsdale's. I knew he knew that evening. He didn't say anything, but he didn't have to, it was in his face. He had that sullen, cold look people get when they detest you. Then he came at me. It. ... (It's painful to recall.) It was terrible.
It took fourteen stitches to close up my cheek. Afterwards, he was remorseful and guilty and tried to make it up to me. But it was over. Something like that ends it. And he knew it. But he still had the rage. He was still burning inside because he couldn't get it out of his mind about Sam.
The second time it happened, we were at the dinner table. It started with him questioning me about Sam, and then, alluva sudden, he jumped up and started beating me. He beat me until I passed out. When I woke up later in the hospital, they told me I had multiple contusions and a shattered jawbone. It was a nightmare. After I was released, I got a restraining order and moved upstate.
It's all over between us, but I'm still not the same. I can't stand the thought of a man touching me.
I'm working on the problem. I'm in therapy. And gradually, I'm coming around, becoming more trusting. Hopefully, one day soon, I'll be able to love again.
Lorraine, a former battered wife, tells of the violence triggered by an incident of infidelity and of lingering psychological scars.
I don't know why I did it. I was bored, I guess. Or maybe I needed to get caught. Who knows. (A long pause.)
I met Sam after work, and we started drinking, and one thing led to another. The next thing I know I'm loaded, and I wake up at one in the morning in his apartment. I called Karen and told her what had happened and asked her if Steve had called. When she said he hadn't, I asked her to cover for me. Then I called Steve and told him I was at Karen's, that I'd gotten drunk and decided to spend the night in the city at her place.
He never bought it. The next day, he inquired around and found out that I'd gotten smashed with Sam at Landsdale's. I knew he knew that evening. He didn't say anything, but he didn't have to, it was in his face. He had that sullen, cold look people get when they detest you. Then he came at me. It. ... (It's painful to recall.) It was terrible.
It took fourteen stitches to close up my cheek. Afterwards, he was remorseful and guilty and tried to make it up to me. But it was over. Something like that ends it. And he knew it. But he still had the rage. He was still burning inside because he couldn't get it out of his mind about Sam.
The second time it happened, we were at the dinner table. It started with him questioning me about Sam, and then, alluva sudden, he jumped up and started beating me. He beat me until I passed out. When I woke up later in the hospital, they told me I had multiple contusions and a shattered jawbone. It was a nightmare. After I was released, I got a restraining order and moved upstate.
It's all over between us, but I'm still not the same. I can't stand the thought of a man touching me.
I'm working on the problem. I'm in therapy. And gradually, I'm coming around, becoming more trusting. Hopefully, one day soon, I'll be able to love again.
FEMALE - JULIA
JULIA
Julia warns an employee that any attempt at blackmail will prove personally disastrous.
You have a helluva lot of nerve, coming in here threatening me! You actually thought I'd be intimidated by somebody like you? (A throaty laugh.) Besides, who would believe you? The truth is a strange thing, Joe, it's as valid as who speaks it. And we all know what you are-a nobody! You're a nothing bastard who drifted into town and were lucky enough to get hired by my husband, who gave you a clean shirt and some respectability. And now you have "information" and we should pay you to keep quiet? (Beat.)
Sure we take kickbacks. Hell, yes. Sure we make deals. How about that? (Beat.)
So, you actually think you're going to bleed us because you have this kind of information, huh? Jesus, you're a joke. A pitiful goddamned joke! You're in way over your head, friend. You think we don't take precautions? (A mocking laugh.) Whose name do you think is on those papers? Mine? Dewey's? Hell, no, Joe-yours! (A pause for his reaction.) Yes, that's right-yours! Maybe in the future you'll be more careful about what you sign, my friend.
So, now who's in trouble, Joe boy? You so much as blab a word to anyone, and we'll bury you so damned deep they'll never find you. Bury you! Understand!?
I had you pegged from the first, you know. You with your phony charm and unctuous good looks. I know your type; I've seen plenty. Uneducated, basically crude, with enough con to get by. And you're a user, I spotted that right off, and I told Dewey. And there's only one way to treat a user-you use him.
Now, I want you to go back to your little office and do your little job for which you're grossly overpaid. Continue to act important and wear decent clothes and have lunches on the expense account. I won't mention anything about this to Dewey. We'll just keep it between the two of us, okay? But don't ever threaten again, ever. Because next time, Joe, honey-it's back to the gutter. Do I make myself perfectly clear?
Julia warns an employee that any attempt at blackmail will prove personally disastrous.
You have a helluva lot of nerve, coming in here threatening me! You actually thought I'd be intimidated by somebody like you? (A throaty laugh.) Besides, who would believe you? The truth is a strange thing, Joe, it's as valid as who speaks it. And we all know what you are-a nobody! You're a nothing bastard who drifted into town and were lucky enough to get hired by my husband, who gave you a clean shirt and some respectability. And now you have "information" and we should pay you to keep quiet? (Beat.)
Sure we take kickbacks. Hell, yes. Sure we make deals. How about that? (Beat.)
So, you actually think you're going to bleed us because you have this kind of information, huh? Jesus, you're a joke. A pitiful goddamned joke! You're in way over your head, friend. You think we don't take precautions? (A mocking laugh.) Whose name do you think is on those papers? Mine? Dewey's? Hell, no, Joe-yours! (A pause for his reaction.) Yes, that's right-yours! Maybe in the future you'll be more careful about what you sign, my friend.
So, now who's in trouble, Joe boy? You so much as blab a word to anyone, and we'll bury you so damned deep they'll never find you. Bury you! Understand!?
I had you pegged from the first, you know. You with your phony charm and unctuous good looks. I know your type; I've seen plenty. Uneducated, basically crude, with enough con to get by. And you're a user, I spotted that right off, and I told Dewey. And there's only one way to treat a user-you use him.
Now, I want you to go back to your little office and do your little job for which you're grossly overpaid. Continue to act important and wear decent clothes and have lunches on the expense account. I won't mention anything about this to Dewey. We'll just keep it between the two of us, okay? But don't ever threaten again, ever. Because next time, Joe, honey-it's back to the gutter. Do I make myself perfectly clear?
Friday, June 14, 2013
Fences by August Wilson - FEMALE
Fences by August Wilson - FEMALE
ROSE
You can't be nobody but who you are, Cory. That shadow
wasn't nothing but you growing into yourself. You either got to grow into it or
cut it down to fit you. But that's all you got to make life with.
That's all you got to
measure yourself against that world out there. Your daddy wanted you to be
everything he wasn't ... and at the same time he tried to make you into
everything he was. I don't know if he was right or wrong ... but I do know he
meant to do more good than he meant to do harm. He wasn't always right.
Sometimes when he touched he bruised. And sometimes when he took me in his arms'.
he cut. When I first met your daddy I thought ... Here is a man I can lay down
with and make a baby. That's the first thing I thought when I seen him. I was
thirty years old and had done seen my share of men. But when he walked up to me
and said "I can dance a waltz that'll make you dizzy," I thought, Rose Lee, here
is a man that you can open yourself up to and be filled to bursting. Here is a
man that can fill all them empty spaces you been tipping around the edges of.
One of them empty spaces was being some body's mother.
I married your daddy and settled down to cooking his
supper; and keeping clean sheets on the bed. When your daddy walked through the house he
was so big he filled it up. That was my first mistake. Not to make him leave
some room for me. For my part in the matter. But at that time I wanted that. I
wanted a house that I could sing in. And that's what your daddy gave me. I
didn't know to keep up his strength I had to give up little pieces of mine. I
did that. I took on his life as mine and mixed up the pieces so that you
couldn't hardly tell which was which anymore. It was my choice. It was my life
and I didn't have to live it like that. But that's what life offered me in the way
of being a woman and. I took it. I grabbed hold of it with both hands. By the
time Raynell came into the house, me and your daddy had done lost touch with
one another. I didn't want to make my blessing off of nobody's misfortune ... but
I took on to Raynell like she was all them babies I had wanted and never had. Like
I'd been blessed to relive a part of my life. And if the Lord see fit to keep
up my strength ... I'm gonna do her just like your daddy did you ... I'm gonna give
her the best of what's in me .
Fences by August Wilson - MALE
Fences by August Wilson - MALE
CORY
You ain't never gave me
nothing! You ain't never done nothing but hold me back.
Afraid I was gonna be better than you. All you ever
did was try and make me scared of you. I used to
tremble every time you called my name. Every time I
heard" your footsteps in the house. Wondering all the
time ... what's Papa gonna say if I do this? ...
What's he gonna say if I do that? ... What's Papa gonna say
if I turn on the radio? And Mama, too ... she
tries ... but she's scared of you. I don't know how
she stand you ... after what you did to her. What you gonna
do ... give me a whupping? You can't whup me no more. You're too old. You just an old man. You just a crazy old
man ... talking about I got the devil in me.
From Dark Horse by Gary L. Blackwood - Male
From Dark Horse by Gary L. Blackwood - Male
COLE
You are correct, of course, when you say that I've never been
a slave. But you're wrong when you say I don't understand. (hesitantly) When I
was your age, I attended what is called a military school. I was a frail child,
and my parents thought the regimen would make me stronger. And so it did . . .
eventually. But I suffered through several years of being thrashed and
humiliated by upperclassmen first. I begged my parents to let me come home, but
they wouldn't hear of it. In time I learned that I had to stand up to those upperclassmen
and fight back in order to make them respect me. I disliked fighting, but I
couldn't let matters go on as they were, so I fought – not very well, but I got
in enough licks to give them something to think about. I'd like to get in a few
licks at this trial, too. Now, I know you're afraid of getting yourself in
worse trouble by speaking up. But the fact is, to put it bluntly, you have
nothing to lose. If we do not come up with some sort of defense, no matter how
carefully I select the jury they are going to find you guilty of murder. We
have to give them some reason to believe either that you are not guilty or that
there were extenuating circumstances. We have to stand up and fight back, even
a little. Tell me what happened. Tell me anything!
Almost Maine - FEMALE
Almost Maine
- FEMALE
GAYLE
Shh!!! I’ve
tried to make you love me by giving you every bit of love I had, and
now…I don’t
have any love for me left, and that’s…that’s not good for a
person…and…that’s
why I want all the love I gave you back, because I wanna
bring it
with me. I need to get away from things…Okay, YOU. You are the things
in this town
I need to get away from because I have to think and start over, and
so: all the
love I gave to you? I want it back, in case I need it. Because I can’t
very well go
around giving your love—‘cause that’s all I have right now, Is the
love you
gave me—I can’t very well go around giving your love to other guys,
‘cause that
just doesn’t seem right—Shh!!! So I think--. I think that, since I know
now that
you’re not ready to do what comes next for people who have been
together for
quite a long time, I think we’re gonna be done. So I think that’s the
best thing
we can do, now, is just return the love we gave to each other, and call
it even.
Saturday, June 8, 2013
I Just Stopped By To See The Man by Stephen Jefferys - MALE
I Just Stopped By To See The ManStephen Jefferys
See this, Jessie. You made a certain sound. Then forty years later, that sound
crosses the Atlantic. Settles in English suburbs. I thought I was the only guy
in Britain who knew about it. Then I found out, there's hundreds of us. London,
Newcastle, Liverpool, Glasgow. It meant more to us than it did some new shit,
we're all saying, no man, go back, go back, find the root. We didn't live
through what you lived through. But we knew what it was you were saying. First
time I heard your voice, on an old go and crash - escaping - I heard your voice
and I thought "This is it." The blues is the blues for all time. You invented
it. But we took it on and we knew straight off what the blues meant. So look at me and you. Is it better to sing the blues but not to have them. Or
to have the blues and not sing them? We've been on tour, three months. Last two: Baton Rouge tomorrow. New Orleans
the day after. This is the shot. End of the show, I go back on stage and
introduce the encore. You. And you come on, the suit, the fedora, the guitar.
And you play with the band. Three number and out. The back from the dead gig.
Ten years time, people who were thousands of miles away will swear they were
there. Are you in?
See this, Jessie. You made a certain sound. Then forty years later, that sound
crosses the Atlantic. Settles in English suburbs. I thought I was the only guy
in Britain who knew about it. Then I found out, there's hundreds of us. London,
Newcastle, Liverpool, Glasgow. It meant more to us than it did some new shit,
we're all saying, no man, go back, go back, find the root. We didn't live
through what you lived through. But we knew what it was you were saying. First
time I heard your voice, on an old go and crash - escaping - I heard your voice
and I thought "This is it." The blues is the blues for all time. You invented
it. But we took it on and we knew straight off what the blues meant. So look at me and you. Is it better to sing the blues but not to have them. Or
to have the blues and not sing them? We've been on tour, three months. Last two: Baton Rouge tomorrow. New Orleans
the day after. This is the shot. End of the show, I go back on stage and
introduce the encore. You. And you come on, the suit, the fedora, the guitar.
And you play with the band. Three number and out. The back from the dead gig.
Ten years time, people who were thousands of miles away will swear they were
there. Are you in?
Strife by John Galsworthy - MALE
StrifeJohn Galsworthy
There's not one single sentence on that paper that we can do without. All those
demands are fair. We have not asked anything that we are not entitled to ask.
What I said up in London, I say again now: there is not anything on that piece
of paper that a just man should not ask, and a just man give.
Ye best know wether the condition of the company is any better than the
condition of the men. Ye best know wether we can afford your tyranny... I tell
ye this Mr. Anthony. If ye think the men will give way the least part of an
inch, ye're making the worst mistake ye have ever made. Ye think because the
union is not supporting us, more to shame it! That we will come on our knees to
you one fine morning. Ye think because the men have got their wives and families
to think of, that it is just in question of a week or two!
I will say this to you Mr. Anthony, ye know your own mind, and I know mine. I
tell ye this, the men will send their wives and families to where ye country
will have to keep them and they will starve sooner than give way. I advise ye
Mr. Anthony to prepare yourself for the worst that can happen to your company.
(Beat) Mr. Anthony, you are not a young man now; from the time I remember, ye
have been an enemy to every man that has come into your works. I don't say that
ye're a mean man, or a cruel man. But you are not a young man anymore.
There's not one single sentence on that paper that we can do without. All those
demands are fair. We have not asked anything that we are not entitled to ask.
What I said up in London, I say again now: there is not anything on that piece
of paper that a just man should not ask, and a just man give.
Ye best know wether the condition of the company is any better than the
condition of the men. Ye best know wether we can afford your tyranny... I tell
ye this Mr. Anthony. If ye think the men will give way the least part of an
inch, ye're making the worst mistake ye have ever made. Ye think because the
union is not supporting us, more to shame it! That we will come on our knees to
you one fine morning. Ye think because the men have got their wives and families
to think of, that it is just in question of a week or two!
I will say this to you Mr. Anthony, ye know your own mind, and I know mine. I
tell ye this, the men will send their wives and families to where ye country
will have to keep them and they will starve sooner than give way. I advise ye
Mr. Anthony to prepare yourself for the worst that can happen to your company.
(Beat) Mr. Anthony, you are not a young man now; from the time I remember, ye
have been an enemy to every man that has come into your works. I don't say that
ye're a mean man, or a cruel man. But you are not a young man anymore.
A Great Night of Something by William Munt - MALE
A Great Night of SomethingWilliam MuntCOMEDIC
Hey! . . . Hey!! Oh my god . . . WILL YOU JUST LISTEN TO ME!Jesus, I know you'reall righteous and shit and don't think you need to even pay attention to me butwhy don't you humor me here, ok? No no no stay with me don't look away! I wantyou to look right at me as I say this to you. You're going to pay attention toevery word.
First off I bought the weed so I don't know what the problem is. Yes it was agift, but it was here and you know what? No big deal, I can get more. Second,the fish was old and you never took very good care of him anyway so his dayswere numbered. And third, the police understood the whole thing and they said itwould go on your record as a misdemeaner at the very worst. So yeah, you're alittle banged up and yes it will take some time to get the stains out of thecouch but isn't worth it man.
You need to look on the bright side of things more. Look, I'm not saying Ifucked up, but if i did . . hey come on focus here buddy, don't look over there,there's nothing going on over there . . . if I did fuck up, then you have tounderstand that there were a whole set of circumstances that were stackedagainst me. No one would have believed she was underage, there was no sign thatsaid animals not allowed, and Ricky can usually hold his shit a lot better thanhe did. I mean I've seen him do a lot more and end up less fucked up. So in theend maybe it's just a really good story to tell our grandkids.
Hey! . . . Hey!! Oh my god . . . WILL YOU JUST LISTEN TO ME!Jesus, I know you'reall righteous and shit and don't think you need to even pay attention to me butwhy don't you humor me here, ok? No no no stay with me don't look away! I wantyou to look right at me as I say this to you. You're going to pay attention toevery word.
First off I bought the weed so I don't know what the problem is. Yes it was agift, but it was here and you know what? No big deal, I can get more. Second,the fish was old and you never took very good care of him anyway so his dayswere numbered. And third, the police understood the whole thing and they said itwould go on your record as a misdemeaner at the very worst. So yeah, you're alittle banged up and yes it will take some time to get the stains out of thecouch but isn't worth it man.
You need to look on the bright side of things more. Look, I'm not saying Ifucked up, but if i did . . hey come on focus here buddy, don't look over there,there's nothing going on over there . . . if I did fuck up, then you have tounderstand that there were a whole set of circumstances that were stackedagainst me. No one would have believed she was underage, there was no sign thatsaid animals not allowed, and Ricky can usually hold his shit a lot better thanhe did. I mean I've seen him do a lot more and end up less fucked up. So in theend maybe it's just a really good story to tell our grandkids.
Before It Hits Home By Cheryl L. West - FEMALE
Before It Hits Home
By Cheryl L. West
(When Wendal comes home to fight his illness AIDS, Reba cannot accept him. She can't even bring herself to touch the things that he has touched. Here, Reba blames Wendal for the death of everything she ever loved.)
REBA: Shut up. Just shut up. Don't say a word. I heard enough from you last night to last me a lifetime. I'm about to walk out that door and try to explain to that man out there why I don't have a home no more. I hate what you've done to my house, Wendal. Spent my life here, inside these walls, trying to stay safe, keep family safe...didn't know any better, maybe if I had, I could deal with what you done brought in here. See this slipcover, I made it. And this afghan, I made that too, these curtains...I made this tablecloth, see this lace. I made you. My son! And I took such pride...but last night you made me realize I hadn't made nothing, not a damn thing...been walking around fooling myself...It's hard to look at something...I mean I look around here and it's like somebody came in and smeared shit all over my walls...I'm scared to touch anything...you hear me, Wendal, scared to touch anything in my own house...Nothing. Maybe if I could get outside these walls I could...I can't stay here and watch it fester, crumble down around me...right now I can't help you...I can hardly stand to even look at you...I can't help your father...what good am I? I don't know anymore. I just know this house is closing in on me and I got to get out of here.
THE GOOD FATHER by Christian O’Reilly - MALE
THE GOOD
FATHER
by Christian
O’Reilly
Act I Scene 3
TIM
She looks at
me and says, ‘Are you aware that you only have one testicle?’
Well, I
nearly dropped, or I would have only she was holding me by the – and
obviously
one of them hadn’t dropped, or
somethin’. ‘You’re jokin’?’ I says.
She says,
‘Surely you must have noticed?’ But that
was the thing. I always just
assumed I
had two. Like I never bothered countin’
them. I thought, I dunno, I
thought
maybe they were so close together they felt like one, or maybe when
one was down
there, the other was off doing somethin’ else – like I dunno, I just
never
thought about it. So she tells me then
that I might have what they call an
‘undescended testes’, meanin’ that one
dropped, but the other didn’t...She said
I’d have to
get it checked out, cos if there was one still up there it would have to
be removed
because, guess what – it could become cancerous.
So I go
home, an’ I’m delighted, like, that I don’t already have cancer – cancer
of the
missin’ ball, an’ I’m thinkin’ I’ve a great story for the lads if ever I had
the
nerve to
tell them, but all I’m thinkin’ is, ‘Am I fertile or not’?
Like I
didn’t know until that moment just how much I wanted to be a father. It’s
stupid, but
like I’d started imaginin’ it, what I’d be like, walkin’ around with a little
fella
holdin’ me hand, teachin’ him how to cross the road, or a little girl and
holdin’ her
up in the air – the way they look down at you, they’re so amazed to
be up
high. And bein’ a good father like –
encouragin’ your kids, givin’ them a
tenner if
they’re stuck, askin’ them how they are, always knowin’ if somethin’
was up,
bein’ there for them, bein’ there for them always, always...givin’ your life
for them,
givin’ your life to them – fuckin’ hell, that’s the kind of person you want
to be to
somebody, more of those kind of people, the kind of person I want to
be. Father I wanted to be.
FOOL FOR LOVE by Sam Shepard - MALE
FOOL FOR
LOVE
by Sam
Shepard
EDDIE
And we
walked right through town. Past the
donut shop, past the miniature golf
course, past
the Chevron station. And he opened the bottle up and offered it to
me. Before he even took a drink, he offered it to
me first. And I took it and
drank it and
handed it back to him. And we just kept
passing it back and forth
like that as
we walked until we drank the whole thing dry.
And we never said a
word the
whole time. Then, finally, we reached
this little white house with a red
awning, on
the far side of town. I’ll never forget
the red awning because it
flapped in
the night breeze and the porch light made it glow. It was a hot,
desert
breeze and the air smelled like new cut alfalfa. We walked right up to
the front
porch and he rang the bell and I remember getting real nervous
because I
wasn’t out for a expecting to visit anybody. I thought we were just out
for a walk.
And then this woman comes to the door. This real pretty woman with
red hair.
And she throws herself into his arms. And he starts crying. He just
breaks down
right there in front of me. And she’s kissing him all over the face
and holding
him real tight and he’s just crying like a baby. And then through the
doorway,
behind them both. I see this girl. She
just appears. She’s just
standing
there, staring at me and I’m staring back at her and we can’t take our
eyes off
each other. It was like we knew each other from somewhere but we
couldn’t
place where. But the second we saw each other, that very second, we
knew we’d
never stop being in love.
Welcome
Rob Connor
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