Sunday, December 19, 2010

Pedestrians

Dramatis personae:
Ellie, 19
Darryl, 44

Lights up at the corner of two busy multi-lane streets - there'll be no jaywalking here. A man, DARRYL, in an old and dirty green down jacket with a burnt orange beanie on his head, holds a rectangle of cardboard as he stands, waiting for the walk light to turn on. A young woman, ELLIE, in a black wool peacoat with a pink scarf around her neck and gray Ugg boats on her feet, approaches with a Starbucks coffee cup in each hand. She presses the walk button and then stands waiting beside him. He is barehanded; she wears black gloves that match her coat. It is very cold outside. They stand, shivering in silence as the walking button buzzes to let them know it is not safe to cross yet.

DARRYL.
Bourgeois.

ELLIE.
I'm sorry?

DARRYL.
Nothing's more bourgeois than double-fisting mocha lattes.

Pause.

ELLIE.
I'm not bourgeois.

DARRYL.
No? But whoever's paying for your clothes is.

Pause.

ELLIE.
I'm sorry.

DARRYL.
Why are you sorry? You can't help it what you're born into. You can help it that you're obviously a liberal and take offense to me calling you bourgeois.

ELLIE.
Right.

Pause.

DARRYL.
What, nothing? You spend how many dollars to sit in a classroom expanding your brain and you got nothing? But that's your job right? So your spare time is spent, how? In front of the television?

ELLIE.
I'm sorry - can I help you somehow? Do you need anything?

DARRYL.
Yes - come on, take a shot. You just gonna take this? Offer some rebuttal. Some accusation. Participate.

The buzzing stops, replaced by a clicking ticking away the seconds to cross.

ELLIE.
I'm sorry - I need to go.

DARRYL.
You're sorry, you're sorry - go! Go!

ELLIE hurries across the street into an armchair - later.

ELLIE.
And I saw him and all I kept thinking was, "dear God, I hope he doesn't ask me for money."

Pause.

Oh, I would give it to him - that's not the problem. Because I didn't want to talk, you know? I didn't want to have to do the odd shuffle, the odd moment where we invest ourselves in each other only to be mutually disappointed, you know what I mean? And then have to wait there for the light to turn red.

Pause.

What happened? Nothing. Saved by the bell.

Lights fade.

END.

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