Friday's Whims of the Time Traveler 52.1: Summer 2009

NOTE: This is the fourth full-act play I ever wrote, at the age of nineteen. While I cannot specifically remember when it was finished, I am going to hazard a guess that I was done with this play by the summer and began writing my fifth full-act play in the winter of 2010 while studying abroad in Ireland. This is Act I of the play. Enjoy.

Can't Hurry Love: A Play In Three Acts
by Belinda Roddie

CAST (in order of appearance)

SAMANTHA “SAM” MELICK, a lesbian novelist

ANDRE GRIFFIN, a bartender-turned actor

AMELIA MELICK, an actress and Sam’s older sister

LESLEY EVERARD, a questioning English university student

MRS. MELICK, Sam and Amelia’s mother

MR. MELICK, Sam and Amelia’s father

SIMON HART, Lesley’s boyfriend

SETTING

A Pub in Yorkshire, England

WRITER’S NOTE: All stage directions and emotions listed in this script are open for suggestion. Altering them should not decrease the caliber of the play, but they should serve as guidelines for the director and the actors. Remember, nothing is set in stone.

Act One

(Lights come up on SAM and ANDRE; SAM is hovering over a laptop and drinking a pint of cider, while ANDRE is wiping down the bar. Some music, preferably love songs, is playing in the background)

SAM. Son of a bitch.

ANDRE. Need another drink?

SAM. No, if I have anything else, I’m gonna fall asleep on my keyboard.

ANDRE. You sure? You’re probably giving Strongbow about thirty percent of its revenue.

SAM. So, what, I should indulge for the company’s sake?

ANDRE. I’m kidding. So what’s wrong? 

SAM. It’s nothing. I think I can fix this.

ANDRE. You sure?

SAM. Positive.

(ANDRE goes back to cleaning)

SAM. Damn it!

(ANDRE sighs, pours her a drink, and sets it on the bar. SAM retrieves it and drinks)

ANDRE. (Looks at the laptop) So…

SAM. Shut up, I’m working on it.

ANDRE. (After a bit) Well…?

SAM. Andre, I’m warning you.

ANDRE. Hey, I’m used to this. You’re always like this when you have to edit.

SAM. This is different. Geoff wants me to overhaul the whole fucking story.

ANDRE. Geoff?

SAM. My agent. Nice guy. We have a cider occasionally.

ANDRE. Oh. How does he want you to edit it?

SAM. You’ll never believe this…he wants it to be more romantic.

ANDRE. Huh.

SAM. I know, right? He said, “Samantha, I love the book. I love its dark comedy. But I want it to be romantic. I want some real love in there. You must have experienced it yourself.” So, in the end, he wants a black romantic comedy.

ANDRE. And how’s it going so far?

SAM. It’s going nowhere. You know, at times like this, I wonder why I’m still writing.

ANDRE. Don’t say that. I liked your last book.

SAM. My point is, you know that I’m not a romantic writer.

ANDRE. Maybe, but apparently this book’s got romantic potential.

SAM. Wait a second. You agree with Geoff?

ANDRE. I’m just guessing. I haven’t read what you’ve written.

SAM. It’s about a lesbian playwright who leads an extremely sexual life until she finally realizes what exactly she’s looking for.

ANDRE. …I see. And how exactly does this woman have this epic epiphany?

SAM. Picture this. She’s standing on the Westminster Bridge, by Big Ben, watching the Thames. And in her dim reflection, she sees her true identity and what she has to accomplish to obtain it. It’s poetic as Hell.

ANDRE. Yeah, not everyone would appreciate self-discovery in a dark, murky river.

SAM. It’s symbolism! Besides, who made you the literary genius?

ANDRE. I’ve read my books.

SAM. Still.

ANDRE. All I’m saying is that maybe your agent has a point. Maybe what you have down isn’t realistic.

SAM. How is adding stuff that’s cliché and sappy going to make it more realistic?

ANDRE. Oh, c’mon, do you really just think love is like the stuff in the chick flicks?

SAM. …Maybe?

ANDRE. You said the character was a lesbian artist, right? Had a sexual life, but not a romantic one?

SAM. Yeah.

ANDRE. So, in a way…she’s you.

SAM. What? Wait, what are you implying?

ANDRE. Oh, nothing.

SAM. No, no, no. Don’t act all innocent on me.

ANDRE. (Teasingly) I’m not. It’s just…maybe Geoff wants you and your character to have a little more experience in that category, if you get my drift.

SAM. Hey, where do you think you’re going? Don’t just leave me like that!

ANDRE. Sorry, Sam, I gotta go check up on the inventory. Have fun writing. (Exits)

SAM. Andre, wait!

(No answer. She goes back to her laptop, tries to type, and ends up closing the lid and tucking it away in her book bag. She then hesitantly pulls out a journal and a pen and begins to write in it. MRS. MELICK enters behind her but stays in the shadows)

MRS. MELICK. When are you going to stop writing poetry and get a real job?

SAM. What’s wrong with poetry?

MRS. MELICK. Oh, nothing. Just that it won’t get you a decent income.

SAM. And when did you start thinking that I care about money?

MRS. MELICK. Well, Samantha, aren’t you confident. Are you just going to wait for a rich man to come into your life and pamper you?

SAM. …Excuse me?

MRS. MELICK. Oh, that’s right…I have a useless dyke for a daughter.

SAM. Would you stop with the  –

(She spins around as she speaks, only to find that MRS. MELICK has disappeared offstage. She looks at her book, scribbles out whatever she has written, and closes it while taking a breath. She abruptly starts rhythmically pounding the book against her head, grumbling and cussing the whole time until AMELIA enters the pub)

AMELIA. Sam?

SAM. (Slowly lowers the book from her face) Hey. I thought you were in Oxford.

AMELIA. I was. I came back two days ago. So how’s the head-bashing going for you?

SAM. Oh, it’s wonderful. I think I’m beginning to lose my childhood memories.

AMELIA. Hate to break it to you, but if you wanted to damage your hippocampus, you should have hit the side of your head, not the front.

SAM. Since when were you a scientist?

AMELIA. Since when were you so unbelievably snarky?

SAM. Since always?

(AMELIA laughs before putting an arm around SAM’S shoulders)

AMELIA. Guess I shouldn’t expect anything else from you, sis. (Pauses, runs fingers through SAM’S hair)

SAM. What’re you doing?

AMELIA. You cut your hair again.

SAM. Yeah, it was getting a bit long. And I bought myself some new threads. What do you think?

AMELIA. …You look like a seventeen-year-old schoolboy.

SAM. What, with this rack?

AMELIA. Hey, some guys get it more generously than we do.

SAM. I’d prefer not to throw up from that mental image, thank you very much.

AMELIA. Hey, if you have to, do it away from my general direction.

SAM.  I’ll try to remember that. (Makes retching noises and laughs as AMELIA moves away) C’mon, you know you love me, Amelia.

AMELIA. So what inspired you to give yourself brain damage?

SAM. Editing.

AMELIA. Again? I thought you published your last book like six months ago.

SAM. I did. This book is a long-term project.

AMELIA. It better be good. ‘Cause you know I’m gonna buy the newest hardback copy as soon as it comes out.

SAM. Man, so much pressure. Remind me to sit in the front row for your next play and stare intensely at you throughout the entire show.

AMELIA. Yeah, if I find anything I want to act in.

SAM. Why, what’s up?

AMELIA. Well, I did some Shakespeare plays, and a lot of people are eager to pick me up, but I’m not really interested in a lot of the stuff they’re producing now.

SAM. Let me guess. All of the upcoming plays are sausage fests.

AMELIA. Hey, some girls enjoy a bit of sausage, you know.

SAM. …Awful. Awful, awful, awful.

AMELIA. (Laughs) I know, I’m sorry.

SAM. I mean, geez, Amelia, I didn’t think you’d…I mean…wow. Just wow.

AMELIA. Okay, okay, change of topic. Is Andre around?

SAM. I think he’s in the backroom, checking on the inventory. (Waves around her half-full glass) Here, you can have some of my cider while you’re waiting.

AMELIA. I’m not here for a drink like you are, Sam. Though thinking about it, I could really go for a P.S. I Love You.

SAM. Why, because Andre mixes it?

AMELIA. Hey, he makes a damn good P.S. I Love You.

(ANDRE suddenly re-enters, and he stops to look at AMELIA)

ANDRE. Amelia! Hey!

AMELIA. Hey, Andre! How’s it going?

ANDRE. Not bad, not bad. I thought you were in Oxford.

SAM. Feel that? That’s déjà vu.

AMELIA. (Ignores SAM) Oh, I’ve been back for a couple of days now. I couldn’t stay away for long.

ANDRE. Well, it’s good to have you here again. This place was pretty lonely without you.

SAM. Gee, thanks, Andre.

ANDRE. You’re welcome. So, would you like anything to drink? I could always mix you something.

AMELIA. No thanks. I gotta drive home. But, um, do you have a moment?

ANDRE. Sure. What’s up?

AMELIA. No, uh…I was wondering if I could talk to you somewhere else.

SAM. Wow, I feel so incredibly loved.

AMELIA. It’s nothing against you, Sam. It’s just I…well…

ANDRE. No, I understand. Here, let me check up on one more thing, and I’ll be back in a bit. (Lingers for a bit, looking at AMELIA, then exits again)

SAM. (Watching with interest) You’re blushing.

AMELIA. Shut up.

SAM. You are so blushing.

AMELIA. I said shut up.

SAM. C’mon, what’s the real reason you’re here? And don’t say it’s because you like the way Andre mixes drinks, if you know what I mean…

AMELIA. Sam!

SAM. Sorry, sorry. I couldn’t help it.

AMELIA. It’s just…ever since Andre and I were in that musical together, before he stopped performing…I mean, we’ve been talking a lot. And because I’ve been away from Yorkshire for a while, we’ve been e-mailing each other nonstop.

SAM. And?

AMELIA. Well…don’t be offended by this, Sam, but he’s really the main reason I’m back here.

SAM. I knew it. You want to ask him out.

AMELIA. Shhhh! Not so loud!

SAM. C’mon, it’s obvious. I may not be a love expert, but I haven’t felt tension like that since we left the U.S. Andre’s gotta know it, too.

AMELIA. That’s the thing. He doesn’t act like he knows.

SAM. What, he hasn’t dropped any hints?

AMELIA. I feel like I’m being blatant to him about my feelings. I really like him, Sam. But I don’t know if he likes me back.

SAM. Well…just ask him out, then.

AMELIA. What? Are you sure?

SAM. Isn’t that what you wanted to do in the first place?

AMELIA. No…I mean, yes. I don’t know, Sam. What if he isn’t ready or he doesn’t like me back? What if it gets awkward?

SAM. Then you go back to Oxford and give him some time to think it over. It’s not like you guys live close to each other.

AMELIA. That’s the thing, Sam…I’m not going back to Oxford.

SAM. You’re not?

AMELIA. No. I’m going back to America by the end of September.

(SAM, mid-drinking, dramatically spits out a mouthful of cider. AMELIA dodges just in time)

SAM. What?!

AMELIA. Geez, Sam! Was that necessary?

SAM. You have got to be kidding me. You’re going back to America?

AMELIA. Look, it was a really tough decision. I love England, I really do. I enjoy every acting gig I get here and I’ve gotten really comfortable.

SAM. So what’s the problem?

AMELIA. Well, that’s just it. I feel like I’m getting too comfortable. I need a change, even if it means taking a risk. That’s why I want to go back to American theatre. I want to see what kind of reception I get.

SAM. Yeah, but where are you going to go?

AMELIA. New York. Where else?

SAM. You can’t be serious. You want to try out Broadway? You’ve never thought about performing on Broadway.

AMELIA. I know. But if that doesn’t work, I’ll go to Seattle. They’ve got a burgeoning theater industry, just like San Francisco. Or maybe I’ll go to Chicago. I have a lot of friends who have acting gigs there.

SAM. No, hold it. Stop. This is just too much for me to absorb right now. Let my head stop spinning for a second. (Takes a long drink)

AMELIA. What? What’s not to understand? I miss America, Sam. It’s my home. That’s why I want to see if whatever happens between me and Andre works, because I can’t wait too long for anything to happen.

SAM. Christ, Amelia. I…I don’t know what to say.

AMELIA. I know, Sam, I know. It’s sort of breaking my promise to you, isn’t it?

SAM. Kind of. (Abruptly) Don’t feel bad for it. I’m not in control of your life. You do what you want.

AMELIA. Maybe you can come back with me. (When SAM reacts negatively) Well, you could at least pay a visit.

SAM. I dunno…just the idea of going back…

AMELIA. I know. You came to England for a reason.

SAM. (Laughs) Oh, more than one.

AMELIA. God, the night you decided to leave the country. That was intense.

SAM. You remember it?

AMELIA. Why wouldn’t I? It’s like a set-up for a climactic scene in a play. I even felt like I was under a spotlight when we were talking.

SAM. Like the whole room heated up.

AMELIA. Picture it! The stage is set, all eyes on us. Minimal scenery, but it works.

SAM. (Picks up her chair and drags it upstage) Two chairs for props.

AMELIA. (Does the same with her chair as the lights dim onstage) The lights dim. The actors take their places.

(MRS. MELICK and MR. MELICK enter from different sides)

SAM. All goes quiet.

AMELIA. Lights come up.

AMELIA and SAM. Boom.

(They sit down on their chairs and freeze as the lights come back up)

MRS. MELICK. England?!

SAM. Yeah. That’d be it.

MRS. MELICK. You’re going to throw away your entire college education to run away to England?

SAM. London, specifically.

MRS. MELICK. Don’t get smart with me, Samantha! Do you realize how much money we’ve spent for your tuition?

MR. MELICK. Your mother does have a point, Sam. What are you going to do without your degree?

SAM. It’s not like it was going to help me anyway, Dad. But at least Mom can save the rest of the money for her new vacation home or whatever she wanted to use it for.

AMELIA. Sam, don’t.

MRS. MELICK. I can’t believe you. We do everything for you, every little thing, and you throw it back in our faces. What did I do to deserve such an ungrateful daughter?

SAM. Oh, I can give you a list.

AMELIA. Mom, don’t you think you’re being a bit harsh? If this is what Sam wants to do, you should be happy for her!

MRS. MELICK. Only you could defend such a stupid decision, Amelia. Just what are you going to do when you get to England, Samantha? Join Parliament? I’m sure they’ll appreciate another loud-mouthed dyke.

SAM. See, that is exactly what I’m talking about!

MR. MELICK. Cindy, please! Your language!

SAM. I’m not gonna take your insults, Mom! Okay, I’m a queer. I’m a dyke. I’m a lesbo! I’ve heard it all! And that’s why I’m leaving!

MRS. MELICK. I’d like you see you survive in London for one day without getting a check from us.

SAM. I’ll be just fine without your help, Mom. You’ll see when I oh so coincidentally leave your name out of the dedication section of my book.

MRS. MELICK. (To MR. MELICK) Can you believe this for one minute?

MR. MELICK. You know what? Yes, I can.

AMELIA. Mom, I don’t blame Sam for wanting to go.

MRS. MELICK. When are you going to learn to stop protecting her, Amelia? You know she’ll amount to nothing!

MR. MELICK. Oh, c’mon now, that’s not true at all!

MRS. MELICK. You, too, Frank! I’ve had it with you defending that girl like she’s some sort of saint! After all the trouble she’s caused this family!

SAM. Oh, fuck you, Mom!

MRS. MELICK. See, there she goes again!

SAM. (Starts to leave) Forget it. I am not going to just sit here and take your abuse. I’ll just spend the night in the airport.

MRS. MELICK. Fine! But don’t even think about coming back, with that attitude! You’ve lost all respect from me, young lady!

SAM. That’s funny, because you never gave me any!

AMELIA. (Follows SAM) Sam, wait. Let me help you.

MRS. MELICK. You stay right here, Amelia. I won’t have you cater to her.

AMELIA. But I want to help her.

SAM. Just let me go, sis. I can handle it.

AMELIA. (Determinedly) No.

(MRS. MELICK, MR. MELICK, and SAM all stare in shock)

MRS. MELICK. Did you hear what I said?

AMELIA. Yes. And I’m not going to listen to you. Sam, how many bags do you have?

SAM. (Still in shock) Um, not very many. Maybe two.

AMELIA. Good. Bring them down.

MRS. MELICK. Amelia, I am ordering you to stop helping her!

AMELIA. And while you’re at it, get my bags, too.

SAM. What?!

MRS. MELICK. Excuse me?

AMELIA. You heard me.

SAM. Are…are you serious?

MRS. MELICK. Just what do you think you’re doing?

AMELIA. I love you very much, Mom. But you know what? I love Sam more. I’m going to London, too.

MR. MELICK. You’re kidding! Both of you?

AMELIA. I packed as soon as Sam told me she was going.

SAM. Holy shit, Amelia!

MRS. MELICK. But what about your father and me? What about your career?

AMELIA. I’m not worried about it. Besides, if I’m going to be an actress, England would be a good place for me to start. C’mon, Sam, let’s go.

MR. MELICK. My God…

MRS. MELICK. Sweetheart…please don’t do this. I can’t lose you!

AMELIA. Stop it, Mom! I’m sick of you fawning over me while you shun Sam! So she’s not into men, so what? She’s got just as much potential as I do to succeed and I’ve had it with you treating my sister like shit! She deserves more than that and that’s why I’m going with her!

MRS. MELICK. You’re going to regret doing this, Amelia! You at least have a future!

AMELIA. I know. But I’m not going to succeed in that future as long as I stay here. (To SAM) C’mon, let’s get going.

SAM. Amelia, I…

AMELIA. Don’t try to stop me. I’m going to be there to support you, always. I promise.

(SAM tries to respond but can’t get the words out. AMELIA takes her hand and pulls her aside as MRS. MELICK exits the stage, crying. MR. MELICK looks at them)

MR. MELICK. So I guess this is it.

SAM. Yeah, Dad. It is.

MR. MELICK. Well, can’t say I’m surprised. This whole environment has been…

SAM. Heinously hostile. I know.

MR. MELICK. I guess all I can say I’m sorry. Sorry that I couldn’t do more to…

AMELIA. It’s okay, Dad, you did everything you could.

SAM. Well, I don’t know, maybe we can afford another ticket to England.

AMELIA. Sam…

SAM. I know, I know. Wishful thinking, huh?

MR. MELICK. I think my abandoning your mother would be the worst thing to do after both her daughters take off. But please keep in touch with me if not with her. You have my e-mail address.

SAM. Yeah, I do. Well…see you, Dad.

AMELIA. Bye, Dad.

MR. MELICK. Bye, girls. And good luck.

(MR. MELICK hugs AMELIA and SAM before exiting the stage. The two stand there for a while, before silently returning to their chairs)

SAM. You didn’t have to go with me, you know.

AMELIA. I know. But I wanted to. (Responding to SAM’S silence) Sam, being in England has been a dream come true. I’m glad I went with you, especially since we both pretty much succeeded in what we’ve always wanted to do. But now I feel like I’m obligated to go back. At least for the sake of adventure.

SAM. So where are you going to stay for the next few months? There’s not much room in my apartment, you know.

AMELIA. It’s okay. I’ve found a nice place nearby.

SAM. Really?

AMELIA. Well, yeah. It’s affordable. And I’ll get to see you more often, anyway.

                                                                                                                                   

SAM. Yeah, I don’t know if that’s a blessing or a curse. (Laughs when AMELIA shoves her, then becomes serious) You think you’ll go back to see Mom and Dad?

AMELIA. Maybe.

SAM. Maybe?

AMELIA. If only to point at Mom and say, “I told you so. Neiner, neiner, neiner.” (Laughs with SAM) I don’t know. I’ll see what happens. I’m sure Dad would love to see me. As for Mom…

SAM. Oh, no, you don’t. Mom doesn’t deserve being in the same room as you. You gotta find a way to avoid her.

AMELIA. Easier said than done, sis.

SAM. I don’t know, there are ways. Maybe lure her out of the house with a pamphlet or something. Or an invitation to a Bible study group. That’s the best bait.

AMELIA. You know what, that’s not a bad idea. I think Dad and I would both like to send Mom away long enough for us to have a nice evening.

SAM. You better see me as much as possible while you’re staying here, Amelia.

AMELIA. Hey, I’ve got three months. Enough time to irritate you as much as I want.

SAM. Not while I’m editing, please. But you can bother Andre. …Oh, look, you’re blushing again.

AMELIA. Shut up, I can’t help it.

(ANDRE re-enters)

SAM. And speak of the Devil. How’s the stock, Andre?

ANDRE. Oh, it’s fine. I just have to make a couple of orders. (Sees AMELIA) You still wanted to talk to me?

AMELIA. What? Oh! Uh…how about we go outside?

ANDRE. Um, sure. Here, just let me get my coat. (Pulls on his coat and walks over to AMELIA) Let me know if anyone comes in for a drink, Sam.

SAM. Sure, sure.

ANDRE. (Hesitates) Um…after you.

AMELIA. Oh! Oh, yeah. Yeah, let’s go.

(She walks out with ANDRE following her, as SAM watches with a grin before returning to her drink. She hesitantly goes back to her book, thinks for a second, then picks up her pen and writes. As she becomes more and more immersed in her writing, LESLEY enters with a book bag slung over her shoulder. She paces around the pub a bit, looking around)

SAM. (Not looking up) The bartender’s taking care of a few things right now.

LESLEY. Oh! Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t see anyone there.

SAM. That’s okay, I’m not very noticeable.

LESLEY. (Laughs) That’s a bit harsh, don’t you think?

SAM. Please. I’m my own harshest critic.

LESLEY. Ah, well, aren’t we all. So when do you think he’ll be back?

SAM. Oh, the bartender? Probably in just a bit. He’s talking to someone right now.

LESLEY. Is he the guy talking to that girl outside?

SAM. That’d be him. You need anything?

LESLEY. No, it’s fine. I’ll wait.

SAM. Fair enough. (Goes back to writing)

(LESLEY sits down at a proximal table to SAM’S. SAM looks up more and more often from her writing to look at her. She finally marches to the exit where the door should be)

SAM. Andre, get back in here! You’ve got a customer!

LESLEY. No, it’s fine! I can be patient, honestly.

SAM. Nah, it’s cool. He’s a friend of mine. I like to keep him on his toes.

LESLEY. Oh, so you’re a regular customer. Awfully quiet here, isn’t it?

SAM. (Approaches LESLEY’S table) Eh, it’s a lot busier in the early evening. I just tend to stick around. What are you doing here so late?

LESLEY. I’m just dropping in from Cambridge for the summer. My mum lives close by, so I thought I’d stop by the nearest pub to have a drink.

SAM. Cambridge, huh? You a university student?

LESLEY. How did you know?

SAM. C’mon. Cambridge? Visiting for the summer? It just makes sense.

LESLEY. What about you? Where are you from?

SAM. Nowhere exciting. Just a suburb in California.

LESLEY. California? Really. I’ve met a few students from there.

SAM. Oh, nice.

LESLEY. Yeah, at Cambridge we’ll sometimes get someone from Los Angeles. But they don’t talk like you do.

SAM. Oh, God. What do they do?

LESLEY. Well…they tend to talk like, oh, I don’t know…(puts on a valleygirl accent) So I, like, totally was checking out this hot dude at the mall, and he, like, totally seemed into me! And he was, like, so dreamy!

SAM. (Clutches head) Ahhhh! My brain!

LESLEY. (Laughs) I’m sorry! I couldn’t help myself.

SAM. What? I can’t hear you due to the blood clots in my ears.

LESLEY. Well, that’s a rather grotesque image.

SAM. It’s what I live for.

LESLEY. (Laughs) You’re very interesting to talk to, that’s for sure. (Pause) Oh, my goodness! I haven’t even introduced myself! I’m Lesley. Lesley Everard.

SAM. (Shakes LESLEY’S hand) I’m Sam. Sam Melick.

LESLEY. Wait…Melick? Samantha Melick? The Samantha Melick?!

SAM. Oh, right, forgot about that part of my life.

LESLEY. That’s crazy! I am a huge fan! (Starts rummaging through her bag) No wonder you looked familiar. I’ve seen your picture in the books I have! (Pulls out a book) I’ve been reading some of your earlier work. I am in love with your style of humor.

SAM. Oh…thank you very much. I don’t hear a lot of compliments from my readers.

LESLEY. Why not? Don’t you do book signings?

SAM. Well, yeah…but I’m a writer. Meaning I’m antisocial.

LESLEY. And yet you spend your time in a bar?

SAM. Hey, novelists need their fixes. Take Hemingway, for example.

LESLEY. Wasn’t he the one who shot himself in the mouth with a Smith and Wesson?

SAM. Geez, you know your writers, don’t you? (Picks up her pen) So, I’m guessing you’d like that signed?

LESLEY. Oh! Well, I didn’t want to bother you with that sort of rubbish, but now that you’ve mentioned it!

(LESLEY hands the book to SAM, who signs the book with a flourish)

LESLEY. You know, I also admire you for your work outside your writing, too.

SAM. What do you mean?

LESLEY. Well, your work with the gay and lesbian community. I mean, you’re a lesbian, right? At least, that’s what your interviews say.

SAM. Oh, yeah, people like to remind me about that. What about you?

LESLEY. What?

SAM. Well, I’m guessing you’re affiliated with the LGBT community in some way, so…

LESLEY. Oh! Um…no, I’m…what do you call it…an ally. I’ve got a boyfriend.

SAM. Congratulations. That makes one of us.

LESLEY. (Laughs) Now I know why your characters are so sarcastic. You’ve got that wit to you.

SAM. You mean British wit?

LESLEY. Well, now, that’s a bit of a generalization, isn’t it? (Puts on a more cockney accent) Oy, arse-bandit! Fancy a shag? I’ll bonk you if you want a bodge job! Steak and pudding!

SAM. Okay, now who’s generalizing?

LESLEY. Oh, no, no. If I had been generalizing, I would’ve done this. (Puts on a snobbish accent) Oh, pip, pip, tally-ho! I’m off to Wimbledon, darling! Crumpets!

SAM. (Laughs) Okay, don’t let me rub off too much on you. Now we’ll have a bunch of critical cynics running around England.

LESLEY. Oh, shoot. I’ll have to stop the Samantha Melick fan club from going on its next field trip.

(SAM laughs again before the two fall silent. LESLEY looks at the autograph with admiration. SAM quickly downs the rest of her drink before looking around)

SAM. Okay, you deserve a drink. Hold on, let me get Andre.

LESLEY. Oh, right, that! Only just the reason I’m here, of course…

SAM. (Gets out of her chair and marches to the door) Andre, you’ve got a customer waiting and she wants –

(She is bowled over by AMELIA and ANDRE as they walk back in, laughing and talking)

ANDRE. (Notices SAM) Oh, Sam! Sorry about that. Did we knock you over?

SAM. No, my cerebellum just told me to go fuck myself and then walked away.

ANDRE. (Sees LESLEY) Oh, geez, a customer! Why didn’t you tell me someone came in? (Heads to the bar) What’ll it be, kiddo?

LESLEY. Oh, um…what do you recommend?

SAM. (Gets up) A Strongbow and a bag of ice.

ANDRE. Well, what’s your preference? Lager? Dark ale?

LESLEY. Oh, any run-of-the-mill light ale’s fine.

ANDRE. I’m on it. (As he pours the drink from the tap, to SAM) You could’ve told me someone was waiting.

SAM. I tried to tell you, but you were a bit…well…busy.

(ANDRE blushes and SAM whistles; AMELIA has gone to sit at the bar. ANDRE sidles by AMELIA after he sets out LESLEY’S drink; SAM strains to listen)

ANDRE. So, I thought about it. How about Sunday after I close up? We can meet here.

AMELIA. That’d be great! So something like dinner?

ANDRE. Yeah. Anywhere you want.

AMELIA. All right, then! It’s a plan! (Sees SAM) You mind, sis?

 (SAM sighs and goes back to her seat. LESLEY has gotten her drink and is at the table close to her again)

LESLEY. What’s going on?

SAM. Oh, that’s my sister talking to the bartender. And I can see the sparks flying between them…

LESLEY. Oh, you think that they…

SAM. Think? I know.

LESLEY. Ooh, that’s awfully exciting! I love it when couples get together.

SAM. Oh, yeah, it’s just thrilling. (To ANDRE) Hey, how about another drink while you’re standing there?

ANDRE. (Breaking eye contact with AMELIA) Oh! Okay, I’m guessing the usual?

SAM. Yes. Always.

(ANDRE fills a glass as SAM walks to the bar and casts AMELIA a look as she does so)

AMELIA. What?

SAM. Oh, nothing. Just that…

AMELIA. I’ll talk to you later about it.

ANDRE. Talk about what?

SAM and AMELIA. Nothing!

(LESLEY laughs. ANDRE sets out the drink. SAM grabs it and goes back to her seat)

SAM. I know, my life is just so very amusing.

LESLEY. You guys just have this energy to you. It’s fun to watch.

SAM. Hey, you put a bunch of Americans in the same room, and this is what you get.

LESLEY. Yeah, I was about to say, it’s amazing how you’re all American and all in the same place.

SAM. England has a certain charm, you know? I like it here.

LESLEY. Well, I could say the same for the United States. Depends on where you come from, I guess.

SAM. The United States, charming? Hard to imagine.

LESLEY. How so?

SAM. (Puts on a gruff accent) Welcome to the land of the free! Now learn to speak American, you un-American varmints!

LESLEY. What is this, the Wild West? (Puts on an accent as well) This town ain’t big enough for the two of us!

SAM. (Still in accent) Now wait a minute, are you saying that five hundred square miles can’t hold two cowboys?

LESLEY. (Still in accent) …Maybe? Don’t you get technical with me!

SAM. (Laughs) I like you, Lesley. You know when not to take things seriously.

LESLEY. I do my best. My fellow Brits sometimes can’t loosen up.

SAM. Well, can’t argue with trying to lighten things up a bit. Cheers.

(LESLEY and SAM clink glasses together and drink. LESLEY then checks her watch)

LESLEY. Oh, wow! I had no idea how late it was! I better head back to my mum’s place before she and the boyfriend get antsy.

SAM. Oh, your boyfriend’s there, too?

LESLEY. Yeah, Simon likes to travel with me a lot. Been a while since I’ve been away on my own, actually.

SAM. Huh. So you don’t do much traveling by yourself?

LESLEY. No, I suppose I don’t. Then again, Simon’s the kind of guy who…

SAM. …Who what?

LESLEY. Oh, it’s nothing. I should get going. But really, what a pleasure it was to meet you, Miss Melick.

SAM. Uh-uh. You’re not going to be formal with me. Call me Sam.

LESLEY. Really? That’s okay with you?

SAM. Lesley, if there’s any type of writer I’m not, it’s a snobby one. (Shakes LESLEY’S hand) Take care of yourself, okay?

LESLEY. Oh, of course! Who knows, I may be back in a couple of days. (To ANDRE) Thanks for the drink. This is a really nice place.

ANDRE. (Doesn’t reply at first because he’s looking at AMELIA) What? Oh! Oh, thank you very much. Glad you enjoy it.

LESLEY. (Puts money on the counter) Here you go. Keep the change. (Dramatically to SAM) Until we meet again, oh great author.

(LESLEY exits with SAM looking after her thoughtfully)

SAM. Wow. Gotta say, that girl is incredibly charming…beautiful, too… (Drifts for a moment before snapping out of it, turns to look at AMELIA and ANDRE) Hey. Both of you. (Snaps her fingers) Disconnect from the mothership.

ANDRE. Oh! Hey! Did that girl pay for – (sees the money) Oh. Right. Guess I wasn’t paying attention.

AMELIA. Well, I better get home. It’s getting late.

ANDRE. All right. …You want me to walk me to your car?

SAM. Leaving your post again? You are one lousy bartender.

AMELIA. Shut up, Sam. (To ANDRE) Sure, that’ll be fine.

(ANDRE leads AMELIA to the door. AMELIA gives SAM a “look” before she and ANDRE exit. Once SAM is alone, she hesitantly takes her laptop out of her bag and opens it, while MRS. MELICK appears in the shadows again)

MRS. MELICK. See, now that is a healthy relationship.

SAM. Shut up, Mom. I’m busy.

MRS. MELICK. Don’t you talk to me like that, you ungrateful –

SAM. I said I’m busy.

(MRS. MELICK disappears. SAM smiles triumphantly and starts typing on her laptop. Lights out)

END ACT ONE

The work you see here has not been edited nor altered since the summer of 2009.