Can I just say that there are few things I've found as exhausting as waffling between extreme emotions.
White top: Apt 9 via Kohl's. Dress: Target. Tights: generic. Socks: Sock Dreams. Shoes: Kork-Ease. Bracelet: hand-me-down, grandmother's. So in an attempt to give myself a deadline for the script I'm writing (seeing as it wants to be much longer than I'd anticipated), and because I want the stuff I've written in their entirety online somewhere, I'm going to post a bunch of scripts I've written (most of which have been performed by my ex-theater group (we broke up)). I think I'll post one a week, so that gives me 9 weeks, and BY GOD, if I'm not done with this script by the 10th week, well, there won't be any consequences, but I'll be disappointed.
Anyway, here's the first one. I wrote it when I was 15. It was performed. Oh my God, you can go ahead and judge me, but my disclaimer is that this was never intended to have a plot, and I don't like this very much at all anymore and (oh my God there is no plot at all what was the point of this save me I sound so fifteen and this is really tiring to read more than once) this may be one of the poorest decisions I will ever make, but HERE YOU GO:
MY DEAR SALVATORE(MIMI and ESTHER both are impeccably dressed in business-casual clothing, holding practical but stylish handbags, and wearing high heels that could strike oil. MIMI wanders, stage left, pausing every now and then to inspect clothes while ESTHER does the same, stage right. After a few moments of picking through hideous garments, MIMI and ESTHER pick up the same jacket. Each sees the other holding the opposite sleeve.)MIMI: (simultaneously) Oh, I’m sorry!
(drops sleeve) Oh no, it’s nothing!
ESTHER: (simultaneously) Oh, I’m sorry!
(drops sleeve) Oh no, it’s nothing!
MIMI: (laughs nervously in unison with ESTHER) Sorry, I just – I mean, I didn’t really want the jacket. You can have it. I was just looking.
ESTHER: Oh no, it’s fine! I’m just here to look for shoes, anyway. Go ahead and take the jacket.
MIMI: Oh! Well, so am I. Looking for shoes, I mean. Well, for a wedding.
ESTHER: What a coincidence! So am I!
MIMI: Yeah?… Small world.
ESTHER: Yeah…
(Large Awkward Silence ® during which the girls look around aimlessly.)ESTHER: So… My name’s Esther.
(offers hand)
MIMI: Mimi.
(shakes hands with ESTHER. Very professionally)
ESTHER: Nice to meet you, Mimi.
(Looks around. At the same time, MIMI looks around as well.) So, what’re you –
(sees the shoes peeking out from under the jacket)
(MIMI sees them at the same time. They gasp simultaneously and pick up one shoe each, reverently.)ESTHER: Oh my God.
MIMI: These are…
ESTHER: Ferragamos.
(does the sign of the cross)
MIMI: For $15.99.
ESTHER: You’re kidding.
MIMI: I’m not.
ESTHER: (gushing) They’re
gorgeous.
MIMI: Aren’t they?
ESTHER: Oh my God.
MIMI: I think they fell from heaven.
ESTHER: Must’ve.
(does the sign of the cross again)
MIMI: Salvatore Ferragamo is, quite literally, my absolute favorite shoe designer and hero.
ESTHER: (gushing again) What a coincidence! Mine too!
MIMI: It really is a small world!
(Both girls begin walking to the register, still holding one shoe each, transfixed by their lucky finds. Neither takes her eyes off the shoe she is holding, seemingly unaware of the other’s equal desire to purchase said shoes.)ESTHER: Really! And I can’t believe they’re this cheap.
MIMI: And they’re
gorgeous.
ESTHER: And they barely look worn.
MIMI: And the heel is, like, not too high and not too low.
ESTHER: And it’s got this cute little bow.
MIMI: And it’s only a half-size off.
ESTHER: And they’ll match my dress so absolutely
perfectly.
MIMI: I know! With the bead detailing on the bodice and all.
ESTHER: (stops dead in her tracks) What bead detailing?
MIMI: (snapped from reverie) What?
ESTHER: What bead detailing? On the bodice. Of the dress.
MIMI: You know! The bead detailing!
ESTHER: No, I don’t know. What bead detailing?
MIMI: On the bodice.
ESTHER: My dress doesn’t have bead detailing on the bodice.
MIMI: No, no, no. My dress. On my dress. Bead detailing.
(Pregnant pause on ESTHER’s part, during which MIMI treats the shoe as if it were a toddler, patting it, cooing to it, and telling it how “gorgeous” it is.)
ESTHER: You mean…
MIMI: Yes,
that dress.
ESTHER: No! I mean, you mean
you’re buying these shoes?
MIMI: Well of
course I’m buying them! $15.99 for Ferragamos! What kind of fool would I be if I
didn’t buy them?
(continues to baby the shoe)
ESTHER: No no no no.
You (points forcefully) are not buying
my shoes.
MIMI: Who says I’m buying your shoes?
(Looks down at ESTHER’s shoes with distaste.) Well, they’re… nice…on you.
ESTHER: Give me that shoe.
MIMI: This?! My baby?!
(holds shoe protectively)
ESTHER: My baby.
MIMI: What?! Do you mean to tell me that
you are going to buy
my $15.99 Ferragamos?
ESTHER: My Ferragamos.
MIMI: No!
ESTHER: Yes!
MIMI: No!
ESTHER: Yes!
MIMI: But I saw them first!
ESTHER: No you didn’t!
MIMI: Yes, I did.
ESTHER: I saw them first, and
I picked them
up first, too. So there.
MIMI: (quietly, dangerously) Give. Me. The shoe.
ESTHER: Hell. No.
MIMI: But I
need them! My best friend’s wedding is this weekend.
ESTHER: Well, my
cousin’s wedding is this weekend.
MIMI: But I need them more.
ESTHER: But my cousin’s a
blood relative.
MIMI: But they match the bodice.
ESTHER: Yeah, yeah. You and your beaded bodice.
MIMI: (sniffs) It’s a very nice dress, thank you very much.
ESTHER: Uhuh. Listen, I
need these shoes. I have been looking for the perfect pair of shoes for three weeks. Three weeks! And now that I’ve found them, I’m not going to let a stupid little girl like you take them away from me.
MIMI: Little girl?!
That’s rich, coming from someone with a
Hello Kitty charm on her bag.
ESTHER: This
happens to be from Neiman Marcus.
MIMI: I don’t
happen to care. Give me the shoe.
ESTHER: No! Give
me the shoe.
MIMI: No! Are you crazy? I’m never going to find Ferragamos this cheap again! Ever!
ESTHER: Well, if you haven’t noticed, neither am I!
MIMI: I don’t care. I need this for my best friend’s wedding.
ESTHER: I need it for my
cousin’s wedding.
MIMI: But they match the bodice.
ESTHER: But I’m the bridesmaid.
MIMI: (innocently) Well, then you’re supposed to look ugly. Not that it’ll take much effort.
ESTHER: Just give me the stupid shoe.
MIMI: If you think it’s so stupid, why are you buying it?
ESTHER: Oh, so you
do admit that
I’m buying it. And you’re not.
MIMI: No no no no. I’m not letting you get away with my shoes.
ESTHER: Correction, missy.
My shoes.
MIMI: Just give me the shoe!
ESTHER: Make me.
(They grapple with each other for a few moments, without letting go of the shoes, in a very catfight-ish fashion. Realizing this is getting them nowhere, they stop.)MIMI: Okay. You know what? Let’s flip a coin.
(pulls out coin)
ESTHER: Fine.
MIMI: Call it in the air.
(flips coin)
ESTHER: Heads.
MIMI: (looks at coin on ground) It’s tails.
ESTHER: It is
not.
MIMI: Look at it yourself!
ESTHER: It’s tails
now, but you’re supposed to flip it in your
hand after you flip it in the
air.
MIMI: Who does
that?
ESTHER: Everyone does that! Everyone and their mom does that!
I does that.
(MIMI snorts in a very unladlylike fashion.)ESTHER: I do that, I mean. Just do it over, geez.
MIMI: No! I won. Fair and square.
I get the shoes.
ESTHER: No. We didn’t even agree that if the coin was heads, I’d get the shoes. So I
silently agreed in my
head that if the coin was heads,
you’d get the shoes. And since, tragically, it was tails,
I get the shoes.
MIMI: What about the whole flipping it in your hand thing?
ESTHER: That doesn’t count!
MIMI: What do you mean it doesn’t count?! Besides, even if you
silently agreed that heads meant I’d get the shoes,
I did not silently agree
with you.
ESTHER: Yes, you did.
MIMI: No I didn’t! What are you talking about?
ESTHER: I’m talking about
my shoes.
MIMI: Ugh! Just give me the shoes so I can buy them, get out of here, and go on my merry way.
ESTHER: No!
I’m going on my merry way!
MIMI: (long-suffering sigh) Okay. You know what. When’s your cousin’s wedding?
ESTHER: This Saturday.
MIMI: Okay. Not helpful. So is my best friend’s. Well, what time is it?
ESTHER: Reception’s at nine.
MIMI: Ew.
ESTHER: What’s so ew?
MIMI: How positively
early. But that’s perfect. Mine starts at noon.
ESTHER: So what’re you saying?
MIMI: We buy the shoes. You wear them first. I get them after.
ESTHER: But… That’s stupid.
MIMI: No it’s not. It works out just fine.
ESTHER: But…It’s still stupid. I mean, I won’t even get to
keep the shoes after.
MIMI: Well, if it’s any consolation,
I won’t get to keep them either.
ESTHER: It’s not.
MIMI: But I mean, look at it from my point of view. How am I supposed to know you won’t wear the shoes and never give them to me? See, it’s all about a little trust.
ESTHER: But I don’t even
know you.
MIMI: Just trust me!
ESTHER: Why should I?!
MIMI: Trust me, dammit!
ESTHER: Oookay. That outburst didn’t exactly make me want to trust you.
MIMI: Give me the shoe.
ESTHER: Give me your wallet.
MIMI: What?!
ESTHER: Trust, right? I’ll give you my shoe if you give me your wallet.
MIMI: (Eyes shoes. Lustfully. Slowly reaches into purse.) Remind me why I’m giving you my wallet, again
. (Takes out wallet. Doesn’t hand it over just yet.)
ESTHER: Because I’ll give you the shoes if you give me the wallet.
MIMI: So…then I’ll have the shoes and no money to pay for them with.
ESTHER: I’ll pay eight bucks, and you pay eight. Then I’ll take one shoe, and you take the other.
MIMI: What?! Fat load of good
that does me! What am I supposed to do with
one shoe?
ESTHER: I don’t know. Maybe you could amputate the other foot.
MIMI: Right. Brilliant idea.
ESTHER: Yeah, I amaze myself.
MIMI: Look, do you want to just…I don’t know…arm wrestle for it or something?
ESTHER: Uh…Wow. That’s barbaric. No. Might as well have a triathlon, geez. Can’t we flip a coin?
MIMI: Okay, okay.
(takes out coin) Call it in the air. Winner gets the shoe. No flipping after it hits the ground.
(flips coin)
ESTHER: Heads.
MIMI: (looks at coin) Uh…Aww! Too bad for you. It’s tails.
ESTHER: Let me see.
MIMI: (steps on coin) Oops. Where’d it go?
ESTHER: It’s under your shoe. Let me see.
MIMI: Under my shoe? Where’d you get a crazy idea like that?
ESTHER: I saw you step on it. Now move your foot.
MIMI: It is not under my shoe.
ESTHER: It is too! Move!
(pushes MIMI)
MIMI: (stumbling) Look, you don’t really want the shoes, anyway. They’re
used for one thing. You don’t even know who’s worn them before. Possibly someone very disgusting. Like your mother-in-law.
ESTHER: I’m not married. And that’s what pantyhose is for. Now move your foot.
MIMI: No.
ESTHER: Come on. Let’s not have this argument all over again.
MIMI: No.
ESTHER: What are you saying no to? Just move your foot!
MIMI: I can’t. Uh. It’s stuck.
ESTHER: How can your foot be stuck?
MIMI: Uh. My heel. It’s caught on a nail in the floorboards.
ESTHER: These floors are tiled.
MIMI: It’s a new architectural thing. They use nails to put in tiled floors, too.
ESTHER: Look, you and I both know it was heads. Now give me my shoe and let’s be done with it.
MIMI: No!
ESTHER: Yes!
MIMI: No! If I can’t have these shoes, you can’t either!
ESTHER: What are you going to do? Ask the cashier how much
one shoe costs?
MIMI: That’s exactly what I’m going to do. Then neither of us can wear them.
ESTHER: Fine.
(turns back on MIMI)
MIMI: Fine.
(Begins to storm off. Stops. Looks at shoe discreetly. Turns around slowly.)
ESTHER: (pause) Well? Aren’t you going to go pay for your single Ferragamo?
MIMI: (saccharine) Actually, I was thinking…You
so deserve these shoes. You look like you must work
way harder than I do. And your shoes really
are nice. And I can always borrow my sister’s shoes. After all, you need them for your
cousin’s wedding. And cousins are
blood relatives and all. So here. You can have them.
(MIMI holds her lone shoe out.)
ESTHER: (Takes shoe with disbelief.) Wow. Just like that?
MIMI: Just like that. You deserve ‘em, Esther.
(exits stage left, humming a little)
ESTHER: (calls after MIMI) Thanks! Mimi…
(Pause. Breathlessly.) Wow. Jesus loves me or something! Ferragamos. For $15.99!
(Takes off shoes. Tries on Ferragamos. Starts to walk. Trips and falls. Rips off shoe. Inspects it.) Are you fricking kidding me?! She broke the heel. She broke the goddamn heel!
(Blackout.)