CHARACTERS
MAN, in his 30s. Her husband. Outwardly impatient and angry, but loving towards his wife.
WOMAN, also in her 30s. His wife. She is patient with her husband, probably the only person in the world who understands him.
MAITRE D’, tormented by the loss of control over his restaurant.
WAITER, a mute agent of change.
SETTING
A table at the right of the stage with two chairs, under the lights. Table cloth, two sets of empty glasses and plates. A signboard at the back says “Beckett’s Diner”.
On the left of the stage, in the dark at first, a bench under a streetlight, full moon above.
MAN and WOMAN are seated at the table, talking. Mournful music playing.
MAN: What is the meaning of all this?
WOMAN: [reading the menu with concentration] I think it means snails served with eggless mayonnaise … or something like that.
MAN: No, no. I mean all this. Getting dressed, going out, eating out when we could have ordered in. Why do we do it?
WOMAN: If we didn’t, we’d atrophy. We’d rot, our body and our brains. [Indulgently, but without looking at him] You don’t want that darling, do you?
MAN: Just listen to that music. It sounds like a funeral procession.
WOMAN: That is a funeral procession. Don’t be disrespectful.
MAN: Oh. [sheepish and then defensive] I thought that was the house band starting to doze off. Anyway, what’s disrespectful. Can’t one speak their minds anymore? They are marching on the street; not like I’ve barged into their house to complain. [Music fades away]
WOMAN: Have you decided your order? I think I’m having the Tuna Salad, and a Bloody Mary.
MAN: Tuna Salad and Bloody Mary? Tuna Salad and Bloody Mary! We came all the way here to chuck raw bits in a bowl and stir them up? What’s the matter? Make them work some. Look here, look here. See, Chicken Stroganoff is the same price as the Tuna Salad. Why not have that?
WOMAN: [She knows how he thinks, but won’t give up her choices] Leave it to me. These are what I like. What will you have?
MAN: [Like a petulant child] Omelette and toast. Omelette and toast with a side of ketchup. I like that and that’s what I’ll have.
WOMAN: Whatever makes you happy.
MAN: Yes, I can’t wait to pay through the nose for all this fine dine happiness.
WOMAN: By the way, did you call the plumber?
MAN: Of course not. We have a leak now; do you want that to be turned into broken tiles and a full remodelling?
WOMAN: It’s just a leak. It needs to be fixed.
MAN: Exactly, it’s just a leak. Maybe it’ll stop on its own, or we’ll get some washers and rubber cement and deal with it ourselves.
WOMAN: Do you know how to do all that?
MAN: I’m sure I do. Just some [mimes screwdriver] and some [mimes pipe wrench] and it’s good as new.
WOMAN: That’s good then. Please fix it this weekend.
[Maitre D’ enters and walks to their table]
MAITRE D’: [Very graciously] Good evening, madam and sir. Are we ready to order?
WOMAN: Yes, I’ll have…
MAN: Water.
MAITRE D’: Water, sir?
MAN: Yes, water. We’ve been sitting here for 10 minutes [taps wristwatch] and no one has brought us any water.
MAITRE D’: I’m terribly sorry, sir. Would you like Bottled or Regular?
MAN: [Thinks a bit] The Regular water’s filtered?
MAITRE D’: Yes, sir.
MAN: Ultra Violet Protection?
MAITRE D’: Yes, sir.
MAN: Reverse Osmosis?
MAITRE D’: Yes.
MAN: Heavy metals?
MAITRE D’: Yes. I mean no, no!
MAN: Soft rocks?
MAITRE D’: Of course.
MAN: Then regular is fine.
MAITRE D’: Wonderful sir. I’ll have the waiter bring it over and take your order as well. [Exits]
MAN: Water used to be the first thing they’d bring you. No need to ask. I mean how is it hospitality without that?
WOMAN: [Sarcastically] It’s terrible.
MAN: Now, where were we?
WOMAN: I was telling you what the client said about the design.
MAN: That’s right, what did they say?
WOMAN: They liked it but, they feel it doesn’t convey power. They want the waiting area and meeting rooms to impress. Which is code for intimidate.
MAN: Tell them to get Ninja Rottweilers for the lobby.
WOMAN: [Ignoring him] I always design projects that illuminate. Harmonise. I don’t like workplaces that feel cold.
MAN: They disagree?
WOMAN: No, not really. They like what I did for the work stations and the cafeteria. But, they want power statements for these particular rooms.
MAN: You’ll have to start again?
WOMAN: I think so, but I don’t know how. How do I suddenly design power?
MAN: Tall ceilings, dark colours. Aren’t those the basics?
WOMAN: It can’t look like a Bond villain’s lair.
MAN: So who’s asking you to put castration lasers in there?
WOMAN: It’s not that easy.
MAN: Nothing ever is.
[Maitre d’ returns]
MAITRE D’: Hello again. Are we ready to order? [Man points at empty glasses] Oh my Lo- … where’s that boy? [wanders off]
WOMAN: [Pleading to Man] Can’t we order our food meanwhile? I’m starving.
MAN: Even less work for them? Why even keep the lights and air conditioning on?
WOMAN: Well, anyway [wonders what to talk about next] I got the test results back.
MAN: Oh, that’s it then. That’s why you’ve been so quiet all evening.
WOMAN: I didn’t know how to tell you.
MAN: So, it’s bad news.
WOMAN: It’s bad news. I got into the IQ society…
MAN: [Throws down his napkin] … and I didn’t. Freakin’ hell!
WOMAN: It’s stupid, it’s a stupid, foolish thing. You’re smart and you know it. I know it.
MAN: [Sarcastic] Just the professional testers don’t know it. Is that what you’re trying to tell me? The people who screen thousands of applicants, who’ve been doing this for decades. They are the foolish ones, too dumb to see that I’m smart. What a big failure on them! They got your test right.
WOMAN: Why did we apply anyway. I was against it from the start.
MAN: Then you were smarter from the start, I guess. All I wanted was some intelligent conversation, maybe some people who could understand us; engage with us about things other than stock markets and muscular politics.
WOMAN: You can’t take a test to find friends.
MAN: But, I don’t like the easily accessed ones.
WOMAN: I’m sure you’ll find some better.
MAN: Why just me? Are you happy with your friends?
WOMAN: Mine are too far away. We hardly meet.
MAN: What good’s a friend that’s unmeetable.
WOMAN: We still text. I know they’re out there somewhere.
MAN: I hate meeting my old friends. They always circle round to the same old stories. The time we skipped class for a movie, the day someone threw my shoes out of the window, or when we smoked actual grass in the grassy alley behind the basketball court. [Sarcastic] Hardy har har! Let’s hear all the same stories again and again, like nothing’s happened in life since.
WOMAN: Those sound like fun times.
MAN: Sure, fun when they happened, but rotten when regurgitated for the Nth time. It’s like a sickening carnival ride you are put on over and over again to feel like a kid, but don’t realise the whole amusement park shut down and was abandoned a long ago.
WOMAN: [Dreamily] I’d love to design an amusement park.
MAN: What’s that now?
WOMAN: An amusement park. I’d like to make the designs for one.
MAN: You mean the rides?
WOMAN: No, no, the entire thing. [Dramatically describes using her hands] A section where all phones signals get blocked and devices automatically send messages that say the government has banned work calls on weekends. Or another where the noise of traffic and construction gets filtered to birdsong and babies’ laughter, and all around you are holograms of cute liddle animals. And best of all, a white room with white artificial trees and grass and animals, and tubs of paint with brushes and rollers so everyone can just let loose on them.
MAN: [Sighs and also dreamily] That does sound nice. A cure for our times. Here’s to that. [Raises empty glass]
[Maitre d’ wanders back in, sees the raised glass, and breaks down under the stress]
MAITRE D’: Sir, I know, I know. I’m as parched as you are now. I mean everybody needs water. I have to attend to fifty different hungry and thirsty guests, don’t I? How can I do that without any water? Water … water … my restaurant for some water. Sir, [puts his hand on Man’s shoulder] if you see that tantalising idiot with the jug, don’t let him get away. Catch him, pounce on him, raise an alarm, and I’ll come with the cavalry to demolish him. Together, sir, together we shall rise again. Water! [Exits]
MAN: I think that’s confirmed it. We aren’t getting anywhere tonight. Let’s go home and I’ll make us some instant noodles.
[They get up and walk slowly to the bench. As they move the light shifts from the tables to the bench and moon.]
WOMAN: Let’s stay here a bit.
MAN: But, aren’t you hungry?
WOMAN: Sure, and even thirstier, but it’s nice weather. The sea is right over there, a full moon is out. It’d be a shame to let all this go a-begging.
MAN: You’re right, we have everything we need right here. [They sit down]
WOMAN: Can you do something for me?
MAN: Anything. What do you need?
WOMAN: Just massage my shoulders a bit.
MAN: [Massages] Something got you stressed?
WOMAN: It’s the work.
MAN: The intimidation space?
WOMAN: Not just that. I know I can eventually figure that out.
MAN: What then?
WOMAN: It’s just that sometimes it’s too hard to stare into space and pluck out answers. Working alone feels like that. I wish I could walk and talk with others like before.
MAN: You can always talk to me. I want to help.
WOMAN: I know you do, and you do. But, I still miss the world outside, the community, the social life. I wish I could discuss work with colleagues over lunch, go to a library, go to a conference, go visit a site, discuss bosses, clients, and co-workers. Just work in a group.
MAN: It’s hard to work alone. I know it. But, there’s a reason you switched to this.
WOMAN: Of course, I remember why I transitioned. And I don’t regret it. But, sometimes it’s just very lonely working alone …without a tribe.
MAN: Yes, a tribe. You miss yours, and I never really had one. [Hopefully] Can’t two be a tribe?
WOMAN: I don’t think so.
MAN: [Reluctantly agrees] Me neither. The last two people in the world would get really bored, wouldn’t they?
WOMAN: Or even the first two.
[They sit in silence for a bit. Sound of waves.]
MAN: [Suddenly] Hey, I got it!
WOMAN: What?
MAN: How to make your client’s office intimidating.
WOMAN: Let’s hear it.
MAN: Only really narrow chairs for seating, no couches, far apart. So, everyone feels cut off.
WOMAN: [Smiles] Now you’re just making fun.
MAN: No, really, I’m not. Have two TVs, one on stock markets, and one showing a roundtable of national defence analysts.
WOMAN: [Warming up to his ideas] You know, that might actually work.
MAN: And, finally, the pièce de résistance…
WOMAN: Yeah?
MAN: A completely dehumidified room, and a water dispenser with empty drums.
[They both laugh]
WOMAN: God! That gives me the creeps just thinking about it.
MAN: I think it could really work.
WOMAN: It would have me running for the doors if I went somewhere like that. The clients will love it!
MAN: There you go. Matter over mind.
WOMAN: [Thoughtfully after a pause] Do you think the world will ever feel like anything other than intimidating for us?
MAN: For us? I don’t find it intimidating.
WOMAN: Don’t you? Why don’t you like coming out otherwise? [Silence] It’s okay [reassuringly] the world is a scary place for people like us.
MAN: [Using air quotes] Sensitive types.
WOMAN: Yes. People like us. It feels like the world is just like that room, meant to intimidate, designed to keep us down and isolated.
MAN: Maybe now that we know the design, we can break –
WOMAN: – nothing changes. You think chickens in slaughterhouses don’t know?
MAN: Aren’t we better?
WOMAN: In what way?
MAN: Smarter? More visionary?
WOMAN: Does any of that matter anymore?
[Silence]
MAN: Well we can still look at the moon and feel happy.
WOMAN: Yes, while it lasts.
MAN: Sure, while it lasts. And when even that’s gone, we’ll draw a moon on our wall and stare at it.
WOMAN: Our counter-intimidation room.
MAN: Our joy-ride.
WOMAN: We can’t go on –
TOGETHER: – we will go on.
WOMAN: I always wanted to paint the walls of our home.
[They both get up]
MAN: Let’s discuss those designs over dinner, shall we?
[Both exit arm-in-arm]