Darren Patrick Blaney: actor, director, writer, theater artist, scholar, critic.: SCRIPT OF "YOU MAY NOW KISS... MY SASS...?"

-->

You May Now Kiss... My Sass?

A satirical tragicomic solo show about gay marriage in a never-a-dull-moment world

text of script © August 2005 by Darren Patrick Blaney

all rights reserved

original 2005 San Francisco Fringe Festival production directed by Nicole Schlosser
publicity photos by Glenna Cole-Allee

Characters:

The Performer: A mid-30’s queer man. Wants to get married but is scared and afraid of intimacy. This play locates the nexus of his mental barricade against Holy Gay Matrimony.

Ramone: A wedding planner, relocated to Sin Fundisco from New York. Very gay and puts on regal airs. Upward hand motions, lots of arms and wrists. Lighter in the body with moments of maudlin gravity. Gestures to the sides a lot. Tosses off his remarks. Puts on preppy airs like Thurston Howell, which he simultaneously mocks in his delivery of them.

Paula Braire: A Lesbian mother. Talks intellectually. Points a lot, central gestures coming from breast area. A jaded East Coast feminist currently living in Sedona, Arizona. She’s tired. Arms always crossed. Slight New York accent.

Damon: A young hustler. Buoyant in the chest. Talks fast and bouncy, with occasional pauses. Californian surfer dude accent. Very animated and energetic. Amphetamines influence his thought patterns.

Gabriella: Balletic, fantastic, dance-like, dreamy. Makes a cake for her friend though she normally doesn’t bake. Worldly and well traveled. Has lived in Moscow, Kiev, Paris, Budapest, New York, Rome. Shades of Zsa Zsa Gabor. Moves gracefully and slowly with dramatic punctuations.

Chrysteena: A bisexual high-school teacher in her early 30’s. She lives with her girlfriend from Holland. A Californian angel. Talks smooth but continuous, almost speedy. Bashful at times, holds elbow. Wrings her hands a lot.

Kitty Krisper: A T.V. anchorwoman. Poised female broadcaster. Very made up. Almost strained.

Harry Hayward: A campy news reporter. Folksy mid-western, with a dash of Paul Lynde. In love with Mayor Folsom.

Humbert Falstaff: A “Christian”. Glazed over eyes. Timid. Earnest. Clasps hands. High on God. Higher voice. A bit airy and New Age.

Mayor Gimme Folsom: Serious, measured, deliberate. Low talker. Intense eyes. Uses “thumbs up” to gesture like a politician who wants to please.

Paul Braire: Son of Paula Braire. Slight suppressed Brooklyn accent sometimes creeps out. Masculine. Aggressive. Gay Republican.

Private Billy Bud: Straight body, rigid. A private in the Army. Southern, shy, African-American. Soft spoken, a little unsure.

Songs: Bette Midler: Chapel of Love. Jimi Hendrix: Love or Confusion? Sandra Bernhard: I’m Your Woman. The Beach Boys: Don’t Talk (Put Your Head On My Shoulder). Erasure: Chains of Love. Laura Nyro: You’ve Really Got a Hold on Me. Erasure: Who Needs Love (Like That). Basement Jaxx: Get Me Off. David Bowie: Young Americans. Blondie: One Way Or Another. Laura Nyro: Nowhere to Run To. Minnie Ripperton: Loving you. Bette Midler: Friends. Laura Nyro: Save the Country. Blondie: Atomic. David Bowie: Modern Love. Barbara Streisand: Evergreen. David Bowie: Heroes. The Pogues: I’m a Man You Don’t Meet Everyday. Dan Fogelberg: Longer. Lou Reed: Satellite of Love. Donna Summer: MacArthur Park. Jimi Hendrix: Axis Bold as Love. Journey: Faithfully. Lights.

The songs in the body of the show should be short clips, 5-10 seconds, preferably with just a taste of the main words of the chorus. Style of lighting should be mellow, maybe sometimes with a purple feel.

PROP LIST: Bridal Veil, Ring case, 2 cordless phones, pill bottles, water glass, Evian bottle, empty TV screen, straw and compact for snorting powdered drug, rubber spatula, plastic frosting container, frosting tube, Billy Dolls, cock ring, stack of papers for a newsroom, crucifix, tie, army hat, wine glass and bottle, fake wine (black tea mixed with cran-grape juice works great), remote control. Utility light to create ghost-like effects.

Pre-Show Music: Bette Midler: Chapel of Love. Jimi Hendrix: Love Or Confusion?

PROLOGUE: A PROPOSAL

Lights up full.

Song: Sandra Bernhard: I’m Your Woman.

The Performer dances onto the stage with a bridal veil. He flirts with the audience, maybe hums the Wedding march. He looks at the veil and grimaces, throws it on the floor, shouts “THIS IS NOT WHAT A GAY WEDDING SHOULD LOOK LIKE!” Runs off stage.

Black out.

Lights up to half.

Song: Beach Boys. Don’t Talk Put Your Head On My Shoulder.

Paul: (upstage center, slightly left) I do, baby, I do. That’s why I have to ask you something. I feel this overwhelming warmness in my heart right now, so many butterflies… how do I say this? Ever since the day we met, I’ve been the happiest… Life with you is amazing, baby, and every day is a gift. When we’re close together, inside each other… sharing our bodies, our hearts, our souls … that is the best feeling. I love you so much, baby. I do. I have never been so sure of anything in my life. That’s why it’s the right time to ask you. (kneels on one knee) Will you marry me?

Blackout.

Then lights fade back up slowly on Ramone who is primping, ignoring the phone ringing.

Sound cue: Phone rings and Song: Erasure: Chains of Love comes on once lights are up on the character of Ramone.

SCENE ONE: THE WEDDING PLANNER FIELDS PAUL’S CALL (upstage center, slightly right)

Ramone: (Looking at himself in the mirror, smoothing his eyebrows. He takes a prescription pill. The cordless phone rings. He hesitates before picking it up. Makes a face. Finally picks it up petulantly. Continues to admire himself in the mirror as he talks. He becomes progressively more teasing as the monologue develops.) Hello. Oh hi Paul darling. Yes baby I heard you. You’re in love and you’re getting married. No, I’m not shocked in the least, baby, I’m just having trouble believing it, that’s all… I thought you were my last holdout. He’s Black? And in the military? Sounds pretty hot to me baby; maybe you should just go for it… what’s his name? Billy Bud? How literary. Private Bud, huh? Sounds like just what every man needs. You’ve known him for three whole months? Paul, that’s a real development for you, it’s certainly better than your usual love affairs which last on average for a grand total of three whole minutes… when do you want to plan the ceremo…. Tomorrow? You want me to plan your wedding overnight? You’ve got to be kidding me. You‘re adorable, baby, you really are. You take the cake. But there’s no way I can possibly… No, I’m not jealous… (under his breath) just a bit sick is all. Nevermind. Listen. Just because my luscious flight attendant nubian lover hasn’t paid me a visit in over a month doesn’t mean I can’t be happy for you. Yes, baby, it’s been a complete dry spell for me on that note. More arid than a sandstorm in the Mohave darling. The bones are desiccated. Utterly fossilized. But back to business. Baby, you’re mad. It can’t be done…(stands, walks upstage left) Rome wasn’t built in a day you know! Baby, Oscar Wilde would wash out your mouth with gutter water if he heard you talk like that. And don’t knock the Romans. Sure they had their faults… gladiators, boy love slaves, vomitoriums, what have you, but…. at least they knew how to party darling! (laughs)

Well yes, of course I’m an expert… but twenty-four hours is not much time to coordinate the florists, the caterers, the ice sculptors, the phalanx of bride’s maids garnished with baby’s breath, the matching Mauve dresses, the Dan Fogelberg sound-alikes…. and of course we can’t forget the bridal registry. Oh right, in your case, I suppose that won’t be an issue. I wonder if Walgreens in Sin Fundisco would do a groom’s registry? Think about it, baby, who wouldn’t want to be treated to a lifetime supply of Viagra, lubricant, enemas, and Prozac…? No more embarrassing trips to the pharmacy for you after this jamboree…! You know, (looks at pill bottles) I do have some friends at Walgreens who owe me some big favors. No not that kind, baby. But I think if I play my cards right, pull some strings so to speak – no baby not G-strings! – I might be able to arrange it. You really should have a gift registry, I mean, what’s the point of getting married if you’re not going to receive presents! Tax breaks? (looks into phone incredulously, almost angry) You already have Swiss Bank accounts, baby, it seems to me that taxes should be the last thing on your…. Yes, I really do. Oh yes, darling, a gift registry is essential. Think about it. A set of matching tennis rackets… his and his dishware… Why else would you get married? Love?!? Oh dear. You already have that, baby (As if to say “What am I, chopped liver?”), you don’t need a wedding to prove it to anybody. Besides, since when have you been into public displays of affection? Well, yes, you always have been an idealistic romantic at heart… that’s what I love about you, Paul, despite your terrible habit for planning everything last minute.

All right. I’ll take this one on but you are going to own me big. How much did you say you were willing to spend? I see a Middle-Eastern theme: the groomsmen cloaked in aubergine burquahs, a Chupa woven from burnt olive branches and tattered willow twigs and strung with Arabian lanterns… and for the processional march down the aisle, a smoldering Persian carpet strewn with rubble from Baghdad. Think about it, baby, with all the hard surfaces it’ll be much easier to break the glass…! Oh yes, baby, I’m completely serious. Haven’t you heard? Apocalyptic shabby-chic interior couture is all the rage in the new millennium… You asked your mother to give you away? That hippie dyke anarchist? Well, maybe we can put her in some harem pants. Misogynistic schmogynistic. No baby, I can’t see her wearing a tuxedo. (Stares into phone, almost shouting) You sent her an email? Don’t you think that’s a bit impersonal? Well, you have a point… it does avert an overly heated emotional dialogue about the issue. And, it’s one less invitation I have to send... I wonder how that kooky old femme fatale throwback’s taking the news?

Lights down and up.

Song: Laura Nyro: You’ve Really Got a Hold On Me.

SCENE TWO: SHE’S THE EARTH MOTHER (downstage left)

Paula: (in front of her computer in Sedona, she reads the email. Talks in an East-Coast feminist accent as she conspires with the audience, attempting to charm them.) I suppose he thinks this is funny. Two years ago he tells me he’s become a Republican and now this? Planning a wedding, my little baby, without consulting me. He knows how I feel about that institution, coming as I do from a background of 70’s lesbian feminism… all the hell marriage caused women of my generation not to mention women throughout the millennia. And now he has the nerve to ask me to don a tux when he knows I used to burn men in effigy at Take Back the Night marches. He wants me to dress as a drag-king, walk him down the aisle and give him away…(laughs incredulously) I guess there is something kind of funny, some sort of poetic justice about that little gender-role switcheroo, and he is fracturing binary oppositions and exposing the liminal space of gender via a process of liberating and empowering the female subject through a symbolic reversal of the hegemony of patriarchal capitalist exchange…. but he’s so selfish sometimes...! You know what… I don’t care what he wants… (Stands and approaches audience) If he’s going to have a wedding and he wants me to fly up from Sedona, I’ll be the lipstick lesbian that I am and wear whatever I damn well please. If I really want to piss him off I should show up in a paisley dashiki, some bell-bottoms, an Afro wig, and a bridal veil. That would teach him. At least in the ‘60’s when we got married we did it with a little panache. And he thinks he’s so damned fashionable. Mother of the groom in a tux. Please. How reactionary can you get? I mean, let’s get real, if it weren’t for me, he probably wouldn’t even have ended up gay. I’m the one that taught him to be true to his inner feelings, to cultivate his sensitivity, to intuit beyond the limitations of his testosterone. Why couldn’t I have had a daughter like I’d hoped….?

Lights down and up.

Song: Erasure: Who Needs Love Like That.

SCENE THREE: THE WEDDING PLANNER HAS DOUBTS

Ramone: (Pacing at first, talking to himself in the mirror, an audience.) My friends are all outgrowing me. I can’t believe it baby, even Paul’s on the nuptial love train. Everyone’s shacking up… (sits) It’s depressing the shit out of me, but I won’t bore you… I’m as tired of hearing about my shattered dreams as you are, believe me baby. Twenty-four hours. He’s nuts. I don't know why people come to me asking for help when it seems so obvious that my own life is so far from together. (slumped in chair) I guess I emit an air of confidence… but on the inside, (sits up) I’m falling apart at the seams. When I first moved out here to the Plastro and started my own gay wedding planning service, I really thought I’d made it. People respected me… I was treated like a pioneer, a gay shaman, a prophet of love, a wizard of homosexual union… a master of taste and connubial décor. I remember feeling so free when I first moved here, (stand walk downstage left) like I was finally on the road to realizing all my dreams in the City by the Gays. (with & to the audience) Especially around the time that whole Valentine’s Day ordeal with Mayor Gimmee Folsom went down, things were looking up and up. I booked enough jobs to keep me in Sushi, Prada’s spring collection, and weekly European facials. Well, I had them in Hayes Valley, but you know what I mean, baby. I felt fabulous. I painted my spacious Pacific-Heights apartment: bright warm Almodovar-esque colors like Magenta and Sunshine and Mandarin. Very California, baby. I even took a yoga class in Bernal and meditated daily. I had a brilliant therapist and lots of sex with an “emotionally available” person. (walking away from audience, back turned, to chair) But still, lately all I have wanted to do is slit my throat, and I don’t know why. (Sits)
(Pause, then as if he’s answering a provocative question.) Could it be because I am childless? (thinks) It’s probably not that. The genius therapist says I have too many lost, helpless souls to look after as it is. I swear baby, all my friends are struggling with something… M.S., Parkinson’s, Lyme disease, diabetes, amputations, hurricanes, disasters of all kinds, baby… menstrual floods…. The last things I need in my life right now are dirty diapers. Lord knows I’ve had enough stress of my own with all the side effects of the cocktail… I guess maybe if I hadn’t found out that wonderful news at the doctor’s office right as the California court decisions were coming in, I…. (He snaps out this, picks up the phone, dials.) Ok, enough self-pity. I have to get this show moving! Time to get the party started, baby….

(As if he doesn’t have time for this call.) Damon baby. Listen. I’m throwing a stag party tonight. Yes… you heard me. A gay stag extravaganza and I want you to dance. Do you think you can handle it baby? Look. I’m letting you stay with me… rent free even though you are, as they say, a rent boy … it’s the least you can do for… After all I’ve done for… Yes, he’s my friend…. Well call the nasty old trick back and tell him you’ll have to reschedule. I don’t care. Ok. Fine. (Resigned) I’ll pay whatever that old troll would have. Listen. I want you there at 8 o’clock sharp or I want you out of my apartment, baby, do you hear me? Yes. Fine. Whatever you want. Your chaps and a cowboy hat. Sounds perfect. Very Boys in the Band. Great. See you then.

Lights down and up on the dancer, who is a gay runaway teen. * Indicates moments he takes a hit of crystal from a small compact in his back pocket. He uses a cut straw to snort the “drug”.

Song: Basement Jaxx: Get Me Off.

SCENE FOUR: THE STAG STRIPPER WILL BE A STAR (center-stage, fast, upbeat, he bounces and bounds around randomly)

Damon: (At the stag party, as if he’s high on crystal. He’s skinny and not very sexy.) Yeah sure, it’s hard being out here on my own. But I’m having fun dude. I never thought I’d make it to Sin Fundisco, never thought I’d actually go through with it. Runaway gay. Sexy seventeen and already having the time of my life. Turning tricks is hella easy I guess. The john I met last week said he’d let me stay at his place for another few days, but once he gets sick of my ass, no pun intended huh huh, I don’t know where I’ll stay. (takes a hit) But look, if it’s this easy to find a place for a week, hell, it can’t be that hard to find another one, right? Look, I’m young, hung, full of cum, and not that dumb. I was smart enough to find my way here after all… to the city by the Gays. The Gay Area. If Vacaville was hell, Sin Fundisco must be paradise! So many hot dudes here! I’m going to live my dream and become a star, dude, just you watch out. You don’t believe me…? Oh yeah, well, just last weekend, I was dancing at a club and this old producer dude with bleached blond hair and a nose ring danced up next to me and stuck his tongue in my ear and gave me a hit of crystal and asked me to be in a movie and said he wants to make me a star! Yeah, so who’s the one laughing now, huh dude? I’m not going to let your bad mojo bring me down. I’m going to be a star! (takes a hit) The producer dude even gave me his card and everything, and I called the number on it just this afternoon… it was kind of weird because the card was just this one phone number with no name on it or anything, and when I called, the receptionist was like, “Fresh Meat Productions, please hold. ” And it was when I was on hold, listening to that hella gnarly house music, that’s when I got hip to the fact that this must be some kind of porn company, and at first I was kind of buggin’, thinkin’ maybe I shouldn’t do it, but then I’m like, naugh, I’m cool, I can handle it, and I have to get my face out there somehow, right? So I’m waiting and then the dude comes back on the line and asks me how he can help me and I’m like, well, I got this card from a producer dude with bleached blond hair and a nose ring and he told me he wants to put me in a movie and make me a star and the receptionist was like, well, why don’t we make an appointment, are you free this Wednesday to come down for an audition? And I’m like, sure, no problem. And I asked what the title of the movie is and the dude gets all snarky on me all the sudden and he’s like, don’t worry about that right now, but just be prepared to perform and be sure to wear some tight pants. Whatever dude. (takes a hit) So I’m going down there tomorrow… the studio is right in the city, south of Market, SOMA I think they call it. It can’t be that bad. Hell, it’s easy money. All I have to do is take it from behind from a dirty old pornographer dude. So don’t you worry about me, Mommy, I’m in Sin Fundisco now and I’m gonna be a star… (takes a hit… alone)

Lights down and up.

Song: David Bowie: Young Americans.

SCENE FIVE: THAT’S WHAT FRIENDS ARE FOR

(The monologue is delivered to the audience. She frosts the cake downstage right, and has a table to her right that has wine and bottle.)

Gabriella: (She is building and frosting a wedding cake.) “How’s the wedding cake coming along?” he asks me. All fifteen layers are coming along just fine, thank you. I don’t mind doing favors for my friends, (pours wine) but let me tell you something darhlink… sometimes I just want to run back to Paris (grabs glass), where people actually know how to live… enjoy life, have some wine (holds up glass), lounge about in a café debating the relative merits of radical art versus leftist politics and sing out loud until the rosebud dawn creeps over the horizon like the advancement of enlightenment democracy itself, dahlink, that’s the way to do it…! (sips, then back to frosting cake briefly before having another drink) Besides, people in Europe know how to make desserts… This one is going to turn into another ecological disaster unless I get some help… quick! I’m trying to frost this monstrosity before we achieve total nuclear meltdown, darhlink. I knew I should have stuck to a single-layer. But this divine concoction has to be special. Gay male couples deserve sizable delicacies (licks the spatula) (don’t you think?) upon the night of their nuptial unions. Can you believe it? (Kneels) Here I am frosting a wedding cake for one of last of the few single men I’ve considered marrying. All my playmates are disappearing, darhlink. (moves on knees to other side of cake) First I lost touch with my girlfriends… every time one of my them ties the knot of matrimonial bliss or pops out another bouncing baby brat, I just think to myself, oh well, there goes another one….! But now it’s getting to the point (sits on floor, overdramatic pose with hand on cocked-back head) where I can’t even rely on my gay playmates anymore… But I will (moves with much effort) be a good friend, so if I can just avert this one catastrophe, (resumes frosting) make this one beautiful thing, at least I’ll have accomplished something today, thank you….

(Spaces out and goes back to her wine.) You know, I love the idea of re-conceptualizing marriage and the nuclear family, (swirls her wine, reminiscing) but back in the late ‘60’s on the Left Bank, people were still idealistic. We invented our own alternative families, we didn’t just do a bad parody of the bourgeoisie… Fashions and trends change, dahlink, and mark my words, radical politics are going to be back in style in the second decade of the new millennium. (Resumes frosting absent-mindedly) By the way, I’m reading Andy Warhol’s diaries right now… oh dahlink don’t bother. It has to be the most boring book that’s ever made it to publication … I know I have a lot of opinions but do you want to know what I really think of the world right now? Don’t get me started, darlink. Because once I’m on my soapbox… beware…. it’s going to be a bumpy night..! (Puts down frosting utensils, picks up wine.) But you want to know what I think? Well, here goes… (Sips, then interacts more with audience throughout the next paragraph.)
I think we should be allowed to marry whomever we want and I think this country has betrayed my gay friends. I feel like assassinating George W. and Arnold Schwarzenegger and the Pope, or better yet, kidnapping, gagging, and binding them in a glorified S&M moment, and forcing them to attend lectures by Angela Davis and Gloria Steinem at an international women’s conference for peace. I think that intelligence trapped in a vacuum is as dangerous as stupidity with its finger poised on the nuclear button. (maybe sits with audience member) I think that the idea that we should keep expecting the Saudi Arabian princes to speed up oil production to match our consumption habits is extremely shortsighted from an environmental standpoint not to mention supportive of a repressive monarchial regime. I think people who pray five times a day facing the same direction must be very spiritual. I think bicycles might be a good alternative. I feel like the world as we know it is coming to an end and so I feel like I might as well enjoy (puts down glass and picks up bottle) my life while it lasts. (Swigs) I think I want to have a baby (puts down bottle) before I hit menopause. (head in hands) (resumes frosting) I think this cake is starting to look quite elegant if I do say so myself… I think therefore I have a headache.

Lights.

Song: Blondie: One Way Or Another.

SCENE SIX: THE WEDDING PLANS ARE UNDERWAY (sitting back at his chair)

Ramone: Yes, that’s right your royal highness… I mean Mayor Folsom. I want you to officiate at this one. This is going to be an interracial gay wedding, your lordship. Tom Ammiano supports it… I know that you’d be going out on a limb here, but as Shirley McClaine herself would say, you will be repaid in the afterlife. Think of the publicity. A gay republican and an African-American soldier… Can you get any hotter than that? This could be another opportunity for more national media attention…

Lights.

Song: Laura Nyro: Nowhere To Run To.

Paula: (At her hotel, same area of d/s left as when in Sedona, on feet, in a conversation) Chrysteena… I’ve got a special favor to ask you. One femme lesbian to another. Paul thinks he’s going to get married tomorrow and I want you to help me stop it. No, of course I don’t have a problem with him being gay. How could I? You’re right… it’s ridiculous of me to think I could get him to change his mind, I mean, I couldn’t even get him to vote for John Kerry…! Look, I think it’s wonderful… if you love someone, that’s utopia on earth, you’re right. But Chrysteena, are you forgetting that marriage is a static, evil institution that has been used to instill patriarchal regimes of domination, imprison my womb, and enslave a woman’s whole spiritual and emotional being? I mean, we’re supposed to be gay for god’s sake… I thought I’d be spared. (Takes a few steps closer) Listen, all I want you to do is talk to him, see if you can get him to rethink this. The tofu Birkenstock wheat-grass goddess will shine her celestial womanly light on you tonight, I promise you, Chrysteena. Multiple-orgasms await you. Remember that, Chrysteena, I’m the earth mother after all; not Janis Joplin, not Liz Taylor, and certainly not the women on the The View. Me, Chrysteena, me. I’m the mother!

Lights.

Song: Minnie Ripperton: Loving You.

Chrysteena: (Pacing throughout first half of monologue, nervous energy, left hand holds right elbow, sometimes wrings hands. On first line, gestures “oh well?” with arms.) She’ll always mystify me….!? You’re right Paul, (paces) the woman’s a nut, I mean, why would she want to cum between her son and his lover? (laughs hysterically for a second) I have a hard time understanding it, but we believe in diversity so I guess we’ve got to accept that some people deal with parenting differently than we would. Maybe that’s why I became a high-school teacher, so that I could clean up after the mistakes that all those inept straight parents inevitably make. Oh… yeah, I’m enjoying my job for the most part, (faster lines in italics) except for that one time when one of my students called me a rug muncher. That was kind of harsh. But I’m getting much better at discipline, I really am. The weekend workshop in BDSM really paid off. I’m not taking any more bullshit from these kids. The next time one of them calls me a bitch to my face, that’s it, man, I’m sending them right to the office, directly to the office, do not pass Go, do not collect $200, you know what I’m sayin’? I know it sounds like I’m having a hard time, and I do come home after school’s out and cry most days. But I really believe that God won’t give me more than I can handle. I just get worried because my girlfriend gets so upset when she sees me weeping everyday. It’s kind of a chain reaction….

(She settles in, appealing to the whole audience.) You know, if we could get married like a straight couple could, she’d have a legal right to stay in this fucking country. Part of me wants to leave, especially when we could marry if we lived in Holland where she grew up… it’s so fucking ridiculous here, man. It’s fucked up. That I have to deal with a governmental bureaucracy to be with the woman I love. I know I’m fortunate, but it’s hard sometimes. I want to make a positive contribution to the world, to be a feminist warrior for environmental healing and social justice, which is why I started the gay-straight alliance at my high school in the first place. But did I tell you about the kid who overdosed (emphasizes) on crystal meth? No he’s fine, he just got out of the hospital. (concerned, slows down) Yeah, he’s gay. Oh, the usual. He ran away, started turning tricks... I know, man, its so clichéd, like one of those cheesy after-school specials from the early 80’s. Runaway gay teen overdoses on homemade speed. But it was so upsetting. (wrings hands) I mean, here it was, the week after I started the Alliance, the first one of its kind at my high school. Damon came out at the second meeting, and I was thinking how strong he is… I was so impressed with his bravery and then this. (sadly frustrated) I wish he had come and talked to me, man.

(Slows down more.) You know, sometimes I think that’s the most important thing: having people that you can talk to, friends, people who will be there to laugh with you to celebrate your joys and bawl with you when you need a good cry. Someone who will bake a cake even if they don’t bake when they know you’re coming, do you know what I mean?

Lights.

Song: Bette Midler: Friends.

Gabriella: (With the cake.) I’m sorry if I seem a bit spastic right now darhlink, but I think I’m starting to hate people…. (downs more wine from bottle) I think taking on this cake project may have been a bit too much. (picks up frosting utensils) As Marie Antoinette said, “let them eat cake!” (lobs glob of frosting at cake) No wonder they chopped off her head! Well, in this case I’m starting to think, you already have each other, what more do you want? I’m single, I’m over 40, I’m getting my period, and here I am playing (smarmy) Betty Crocker when (tantrum) I have so many other important things to do. I have to finish the sculptures for my gallery opening, write a letter to Diane Feinstein, balance the Feng Shui in my apartment, make keys for my new roommate… did I tell you about him? He’s… odd…. (back to frosting) He designs some kind of high-tech tracking device that can be surgically implanted into your neck. I know, it’s too bizarre, but he seems nice enough despite his manic depression. (drinks more wine) I’m scared of Big Brother, but look at it this way, darhlink, at least I’ll always be able to know where he is…! (back to cake) I have to finish this delectable dessert for the man with the gentle heart whom I once thought would father my children and who I can’t bear to live with but who really is a gem. I have to either fuck his brains out and get pregnant or write him off for good, darlink, I’m not sure yet which. I have to mend some fences, float some burning poetry out onto the Bay on little paper rafts… a faint, melodic prayer barely audible in the chaotic din of the apocalypse, darhlink, but what can I say, I’m a conceptual artist… After I whip up the finishing touches on this cake, hopefully I’ll have about 30 seconds to collapse before hauling my ass out to the airport to pick up Paul’s soon-to-be mother-in-law even though I’m not in the mood to socialize right now if you know what I mean darhlink. I have to be charming and funny… make people laugh and cry and all that. Can you imagine the stress I’m under? This town is crazy darling, it really is. I mean, if I have to go to one more Sin Fundisco party that’s hosted by German bisexual intellectuals at which the highlight is a lesson in Israeli belly dancing, I swear to God I’m going to lose my (screams out line) fucking mind!
There… I’ve inserted 2 Billy dolls (grabs and plunks them in with force) into the body of the cake, bound them together (slides it on) with a cock ring and written “happy soul unification” atop the lovely alternating ribbons of chocolate and vanilla frosting. Gay interracial weddings are going to be hot in the new millennium, darhlinks, I promise you. God this cake looks good. (fingers cake and licks it) I haven’t eaten a bite since dawn, I’m completely exhausted, I haven’t had a minute to myself, darhlink, (fingers cake and licks it) but I don’t mind, because I’m a giving person and I will make it on time to the reception even though I detest old-school disco… why didn’t they hire a good klezmer band like I told them too…?? (low key)

Lights.

Song: Laura Nyro: Save The Country.

SCENE SEVEN: THE WEDDING PLANS ARE FOILED / TELEVISION SUCKS

Back in the Feminist Mom’s hotel room, she is watching TV and fuming.

Paula: (sits throughout scene) Mother of the groom in a tux. That little shit. I wonder what’s on the news?

Kitty Krisper: (leap to stage right, hands and elbows make a triangle on “desktop”) The controversy over gay marriage erupted in an emotional confrontation today, at a protest on the steps of Sin Fundisco’s City Hall. A riot broke out this afternoon when a group of radical gay activists calling themselves Gay Shamers for the Destruction of the Nuclear Family clashed with a group of conservative Christians calling themselves Family First. Reporting live is our correspondent Harry Hayward:

Harry Hayward: (holding a mike like a reporter) Thanks, Kitty. Here with me today, to make a statement on behalf of the right-wing extremist group Family First is Mr. Humbert Falstaff. Mr. Falstaff, can you please tell the viewers at home, sir, why it is that you would go to such extreme lengths, throwing Molotov cocktails at college students, to protest gay marriage?

Humbert: (clasps hands above breastbone, spaced out in “prayer”) I sure will Harry. Gay marriages are not what God intended. We will not let these gays destroy the nuke-ular family. God created Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve. As Leviticus says, “A man shall not lie down with another man.”

Harry Hayward: (mike) I understand that the Bible supposedly prohibits homosexuality, Mr. Falstaff, but why does a Christian group have such a problem with extending the legal benefits of marriage to gay and lesbian families? Do you really think it’s a Christian response to come to City Hall in riot gear carrying baseball bats?

Humbert: (clasped hands) We’ll do whatever it takes to ensure that God’s will prevails on Earth… even if we have to use nuke-ular weapons. The reason why we want a constitutional amendment prohibiting gay marriages is because a happy marriage would destroy the tradition of marriage as we know it. Gay marriages are not what God intended.

Paula: (still sitting) Yeah right, your God wants us all to be miserable… that’s why I worship the Goddess… I don’t know why I even bother watching this crap.

T.V. anchor: (leap to anchor position, stage right) Live from downtown Sin Fundisco, we have a statement from Mayor Gimme Folsom, the controversial local politico who jettisoned to national attention last year in the wake of his decision to open the doors of City Hall on Valentine’s Day to gay and lesbian couples seeking marriage certificates.

Mayor Gimme: (uses thumbs and hands like a politician, very still posture) Yes, that’s right, we’ve called in several brigades of local police, and the situation will be under control as soon as we deal with the little problem of the Critical Mass bicyclists who have blocked off all the bridges.

Paula: (back in chair, hand on heart) Thirty years of radicalism and this Ken doll is the best we could come up with…?

Mayor Gimme: (uses hands authoritatively) Once the helicopters arrive on the scene, the situation will be contained. Tomorrow we expect things to return to business as usual.

Paula: (in chair, picks up phone, dials) Not if I can help it… I’m calling in reinforcements!

Mayor Gimme: The Gay Shamers have dispersed and we’ve rounded up most of the Family Firsters and taken them to a holding cell, which we thought they would for the most part enjoy given their affinity for restrictive social arrangements. Just kidding. Look, I know that all this controversy looks bad, especially from a man in the midst of a divorce, but I don’t care what my critics say. I know deep down in my selfless justice-loving heart that I’m on the cutting edge of this issue. I’m on the right side of morality, even if I’m not on the right side of the political spectrum, Harry. (Chuckles, clears his throat.)

Harry Hayward: (Step left. Has a crush. Mike in hand.) With all due respect and sympathy for your admirable position on this important issue, Mayor Folsom, how do you respond to the accusation that you threw the presidential election to the Republicans?

Mayor Gimme: (Step right. Uses male attractiveness to flirt.) I really don’t think it’s fair to blame me for how those right-wingers in the Bible belt voted. We’ve come a long way towards ensuring equality and civil rights for all, and history will show that I made the correct decision. Supporting civil unions has become a mainstream position: almost everyone is rushing to endorse them.

Harry Hayward: (Step left. mike) Are you aware, Mayor Folsom, since your historic action of civil disobedience, 40 states have passed constitutional amendments that inscribe homophobia into the law?

Mayor Gimme: (Step right. fake concerned look) Yes I am Harry, it’s terrible, but I don’t think it’s my fault and (thumbs up) that’s not going to happen here in California if I can help it.

Harry Hayward: (Step left.) Wonderful, thank you for your time, Mayor Folsom. Back to you Kitty….

Mayor Gimme: (Step right.) (He thinks he is out of range of being heard.) Are the cameras off? God, I never thought being a public figure would require so many enemas...

T.V. anchor: (Reacts a bit flustered.) Well, there you have it, a word from the wise. According to Mayor Folsom, everyone is rushing to endorse gay marriages. I’ve always wanted a happy one myself, what about you, Harry…

Harry: Well, you know me, call me a kooky hippy idealist throwback, but I’ve always been more into polyamorism, communal love, and radical fairy orgies out in the Oregon wilderness myself, but that’s just me.

T.V. anchor: Well, to each his own I guess here in Sin Fundisco. We’ll be back in a few minutes with more news about the violence that erupted in Saudi Arabia today….

Paula: (Leap to chair.) (She shuts off the TV abruptly.) I knew I shouldn’t watch T.V. It upsets the balance of my chi and scatters all my energy. I feel like I have to chant with crystals, take a bong hit, get some colonic irrigation, and do a thorough shredded cabbage and lemon juice fast every time I watch this garbage for more than a few minutes….

Lights.

Song: Blondie: Atomic.

SCENE EIGHT: THE MAYOR PULLS OUT

Ramone: (sitting at his chair.) Paul… I’m sorry to be the one to have to break the news to you, baby. But there was no way I could get Mayor Gimme Folsom to preside. No, it’s not that he doesn’t want to do it… It’s just that between the Dykes on Bikes surrounding City Hall, the warnings about terrorist attacks on MUNI, the rioting homeless hotel workers, and the fact that the Critical Massers have managed to barricade the bridges … Folsom does have his hands rather full at the moment.

(A hissy fit.) What? You’re going to elope at Point Reyes? A spiritual union? (stands) Paul, you really do take the cake! I can’t believe you! You sucked me into your drama, asked me to do the impossible, and now you’re just going to change your mind? Paul, I flew in an architect from New York to custom-make your Chupa! I blackmailed Donna Karan to specially design the burquahs out of imported fabric from Pakistan! And what about all those gifts from Walgreens? (cross stage left) I personally convinced fifty of your closest friends to chip in for a lifetime supply of enemas and now you want me to return them? (center stage) (walk back to chair, stand with one hand on it) She made a cake with a layer representing each of the years she’s known you. Well, maybe she does have a bit of a crush, but the point is… we’ve all been getting excited about this, you can’t cancel on us now! You can’t change lanes in an intersection, baby. I mean, darling, don’t you be the one to leave the cake out in the rain… (sings) “I don’t think that I can take it, cuz it took so long to bake it, and I’ll never have that recipe again…!” (Sit and regain composure.) Get ready Paul, because we’re all going to be there at Point Reyes at dawn to witness your union, whether you like it or not! You’ve set a new standard for selfishness and inconsideration, Paul… Baby, even Gabriella has gone all out!

Lights.

Song: David Bowie: Modern Love.

Gabriella: (She walks around the stage in an arc.) Paul dahlink, I ought to have known… politicians are absolutely capricious and cancellations are par for the course. But give Ramone a break, darhlink, it’s hard enough to plan a brunch with friends in this crazy era let alone a makeshift homosexual wedding in only 24 hours. You know, to quote Joni Mitchell, “sometimes I think love is just mythical.” (beat, become vulnerable) My love life is so tumultuous right now, it’s turning into a bit of a nightmare…. I just started online dating and one guy actually wanted me to send a picture of myself to him… over the internet. Can you imagine? Well, I’m glad I didn’t, because I met him in person and it was very disappointing… he was a total schmuck and once he realized how glamorous I am of course he wanted to get me in the sack, but you know what… I’m not interested in any playahs…. So get thee gone and don’t forget to shut the door on your way out, thank you!

(center stage, standing still, slow) Darlink, I know you think I’m a woman who is afraid to commit, that I equate love with a total loss of freedom, but isn’t that the common denominator for so many of us? Oh Paul, I think you’re one of the lucky ones. I think Billy sounds like the perfect match for you. (triumphant) I know you think I look a little bit overwhelmed right now (stares into glass), but let me tell you a little secret, dahlink…. The years ahead from age 40 to 50 are going to be my best decade of my life ever, dahlink. I can just feel it!

Lights.

Song: Barbara Streisand: Evergreen.

SCENE NINE: THE BIRDS FLY THE COOP (upstage left… MOVE PAULA’S CHAIR OUT OF WAY)

(Dawn. At the top of Point Reyes.)

Paula: (shivering, trying to be cool) Point Reyes. It’s gorgeous, Ramone, but with all due respect to the almighty Wiccan goddess, it’s cold as a witch’s tit up here! I don’t know what I was thinking wearing earth shoes… I should have done like Paul asked and worn the damned penguin suit. That’s what I get for trying to buck the status quo. Story of my life, Ramone. So, when are the two little lovebirds supposed to show up anyway?

Ramone: (step right, look left, bored and irritable) Paul told me that he was going to pick up Billy at the airport, which should have happened two hours ago. He’s looking forward to introducing the two of you, Mrs. Braire.

Paula: (step left, look right, wants to be pals) Call me Paula.

Ramone: (step right, look left, “over it”) Ok, Paula. I suppose when Paul was born, this wasn’t exactly the scenario that you’d envisioned for him on his wedding day, was it…

Paula: (step left, look right) It wasn’t exactly what I had in mind… But it’s turning out much better than I… Actually, I have to confess something. I’m the one who made the call to the Dykes on Bikes yesterday….

Ramone: (step right, look left, “stumped”) What…?!?

Paula: (step left, look right) Never underestimate a bicoastal lesbian feminist mother… Inciting riots is old hat for me. The leader of the pack as they say is one of my old girlfriends from back in the day in Greenwich Village. I told her my dilemma and she rallied the Bay Area troops pronto. No Gay Republican son of mine is going to get married on the steps of City Hall in a tux if I can help it. That’s much too traditional. (come downstage left a bit) But who would have thunk he’d pick a natural environment as an alternative. Point Reyes. He does have style I’ll give him that. It’s too damned cold for Paula Braire, but it is… truly beautiful here. Divine. I feel like I could meditate into that horizon forever… look at those two birds. They’re flying like they belong together, completely in synch with every movement, every dip and rise. Endless harmony. And it’s so natural for them. Soaring. That’s all I want for Paul.

Chrysteena: (step right, drop arms, grab elbow) (Bursting onto the scene with Gabriella. Out of breath.) Hi Paula, Hi Ramone.

Paula: (step left, arms crossed, slightly chastising) Chrysteena, the sun rose over an hour ago!

Chrysteena: (step right, drop arms, grab elbow) I know, I’m sorry I’m late, but I brought friends. Paula, this is Gabriella and Damon. I have some terrible news… the wedding’s o…

Gabriella: (move center with hand extended for people to kiss it) Enchanted to meet you, darhlinks.

Damon: (transform to the right) Yaw… far out, dudes!

Ramone: (transform to the right) Damon… what are you doing h…? (He covers himself.) Gabriella… glad you could make it. I hope you remembered the cae…

Gabriella: (step left, lick cake then throw to right) Right here, Darlink. Here’s your precious cake. Tastes delicious. Catch!

Ramone: (step right) It’s nice to see that Paul has so many feminine influences in his life.

Damon: (step right, look right, disappointed) Oh, dude, don’t hurl the snack foods…! I’m totally munching-out, I’m starving dude…!

Chrysteena: (jump left) My news should make you very happy, Mrs. Braire. Paul called me this morning. Private Bud’s military contract in Iraq has been extended for another year. The wedding, at least for today, is off…

Paula: (step left) (Smiling.) What? Another year? You mean they’re going to delay the wedding?

Ramone: (step right) Don’t look so happy there, Mrs. B, but maybe you’re right. A delayed wedding’s much better than delaying gratification, that’s my humble philosophy….

Chrysteena: (step left) He asked me to apologize to you all… he told me that he wants us to enjoy Gabriella’s cake, and say a prayer that the war will end soon so that Billy can get home.

Paula: (step left) I know this might sound corny. But let’s take a deep breath, join hands for a minute, and pray for peace and equal rights, with flowers in our hair like we used to back in the sixties…

Ramone: (step right) Oh Paula, do we have to…?

Damon: (step right) Ahhh… I’m not much into praying, dudes….

Chrysteena: (step left, grab his arm) You had better start praying after what put me through, Damon. I was so worried about you. If you ever live through something that stupid again, I swear to God, I’ll kill you.

Damon: (step right) Whatever, teach. I guess praying isn’t the worst thing anyone’s ever asked me to do.

Ramone: (step left) Shut-up Damon!

Gabriella: (look left and gesture) I think it’s a great idea, Mrs. Braire. Give me one of those corsages! But if Paul thinks I’m going to make him another cake next year, he’s out of his fucking mind.

Chrysteena: (step left, look right) Why don’t you do like they do in sperm banks?

Damon: (step right, look left) Sperm banks? Gnarly dude.

Chrysteena: (step left, look right) Just freeze the goods until the moment is right.

Ramone: (to audience) Frankly, babes… if this moment isn’t right, I’ll never be able to tell when everything’s all-wrong ever again.

Blackout. Longer pause. 7 seconds to lights up fast. .

Song: David Bowie: Heroes.

SCENE TEN: ONE YEAR LATER (move chairs to car and move table out of the way)

Paul: (In his car, he happily dreams of the moment he will pick up Billy Bud.) It’s going to happen. After a year apart, we’ll finally be together… I’m picking up Billy at the airport, we’ll head out to Point Reyes, this time without any entourage around, and we’ll be united and happy. And you know what? I don’t care what Mom says… None of this could have happened if we didn’t have such a (pumping psyched fist gesture) great president in office. Billy’s home from Iraq, my finances are getting straightened out… I can’t tell you how worried I was about my career in multinational capital, my investment portfolio, my tax shelters, my plans for my early retirement, everything. Being an out gay Republican sometimes has a terribly negative impact ― any heterosexual man of my status – and of course there are all kinds of things we have to deal with. Inheritance rights, joint property, insurance policy issues, social security, you name it. These are all things that straight people take for granted. We’re supposed to conform. Billy especially. But there’s no static institution out there that’s grounding our love for us. Imagine getting a form letter from the Supreme Court of California printed on officious stationary telling you that your marriage was invalid, that your love didn’t cut it, that you didn’t deserve equal treatment under the law. Because we have to affirm ourselves, I think our union might actually be stronger than the average couple’s. Ever since I met Private Bud I knew that we were perfect for each other. We like the same music. We enjoy the same food. We fit together perfectly. When I met him it was like finding my other half. We’re so much alike. People mistake us for each other when we first answer the phone, we’re about the same height… If he wasn’t black and a few years younger than me, we’d practically be twins I guess. (Beat). There’ve been times when it’s been hard trying to explain my love to the world, but I’ve made the sacrifice because I love Billy and that’s all that matters to me in the long run. (Suddenly Billy’s ghost appears to him in the car. He talks to Paul and the audience.)

Lights become ethereal during this shift. Maybe purple. Blackout.

Song: The Pogues: I’m A Man You Don’t Meet Everyday. Turn on Utility Lamp.

Billy Bud:          (Downstage left, he is lit up by a sole utility lamp on the stage. Holds some rosary beads.) Yeah, I’ll tell you. It was hard being gay, or whatever, in the military. You’re probably wondering what I was doing joining the service when I knew that I’d have to stay in the closet. Look. I didn’t feel like I had to tell everybody my business. Who I wanted to sleep with never defined me. Besides, it was much more than that… I loved Paul, ya know? I wish I’d had the chance to call him one last time. ‘Course I never told them about him – you know, don’t ask, don’t tell and all. But believe me, that don’t mean there weren’t plenty of us… I think things might change eventually, but I can see their point, they’re just afraid. They keep things under control in the army, so tight, it’s like, if two guys got all kissy-kissy with each other in the barracks, it would make it impossible to enforce that discipline…. But I do think that society is changing, and so…. You never know.
’Course, my mother wasn’t too happy about the idea of me enlisting at first, either. She was worried, but I told her, Momma, how else am I going to earn the money to go to college? I convinced her that this would be a good experience for me, that I would develop marketable skills and yaddah yaddah yaddah… I guess she got used to the idea. I told her I would send her some money to help out with the bills, and I assured her that it would only be a four-year commitment at most.
When I first received the notice that I was being sent to Iraq, I’ll tell you, I was pretty… scared. I mean, it’s one thing to go through all that training and be stationed in the States, but it’s another thing to be confronted with a real combat situation. I didn’t know if I would be able to handle it. But I went. Unlike (gesture to car) Paul, I don’t agree with President Bush about everything. But if it was a question of keeping our country safe, from helping to eradicate terrorism in the world, and bring freedom to more people, I told myself, look… this is the kind of thing that someday you’ll be able to tell stories about. You, a poor kid a few years out of high school, you’re going to be someone who will be treated with respect and pride on national holidays. You’re going to be one of the ones that gets welcomed with open arms. You, a poor kid a few years out of high school, you’re going to see a part of the world that few Americans ever get to see.
Well, I guess I don’t have to tell you how disappointed I’ve been…. Never mind the wounds I received… I’m not going to try to scare you about the horrors of guerilla warfare when you’re on the ground, or preach to you about why war is bad. But I want to tell you that during the whole election process last year, we in the service were watching closely. We heard all the news: how the Bush administration lied about the weapons of mass destruction in Iraq and rushed us into combat. We saw the papers and felt embarrassed when those Abu Ghraib photos came out. So much for being part of an honorable war… that was so humiliating for us, because it was like, most of us signed up for this because we either didn’t have a choice, or because we wanted to serve our country. I’ll tell you, I really wanted things to turn out differently. I saw how the gay marriage issue seemed to divide the country. Now, let me just tell you that I don’t really care, I mean, I don’t see how it makes any difference, I mean, if two people love each other, if two people want to live together, I mean, I thought that was what freedom was supposed to be about, you know? It was what we were fighting for, in a way. (Beat. Look at Paul.) It’s hard for me to understand how people can be so threatened by something like two people in love wanting to live together, I mean… threatening the family??? It’s not like gay couples are carrying car bombs! How are they going to destroy the family?
Look. Just because we wear uniforms and have buzz-cuts doesn’t mean… Just be glad you’re still alive. Me and my buddies, not all of us made it. We’re not going to see the other side. And it makes me sad. Never mind how I felt when my mother got that news. I’ll tell you, it was like a wedge right into my heart. I could see her there, in her little house, rosary beads interlaced between her fingers, a pot of spaghetti simmering on the stove, she opens the telegram and it’s like… there goes all her hopes for me. Her only son. Dead. Time might make it easier, but she’ll never get over it.

But I learned something while I was in the army, I did. You realize how dependent you are on each other, you realize what it means to be part of a team, you realize how interconnected everything and everyone is. It’s almost like a higher form of love, in a way; it’s a commitment… that maybe isn’t… I mean, marriage is supposed to be forever of course, but… you have to be dedicated to your…
And now that I’m on the other side, I’ll tell you, it does hurt. You know, I’ll never get the chance to love, not the same way that I could have if… I mean, who deserves to be happy in this world and who doesn’t? And who decides? Who gives the most, who do we remember, and who do we forget? Just be good to those boys when they come home. They’re going to have a lot of decompressing to do, believe me, they will. Ask them how they’re feeling and let them tell you how it feels to be back home among the lucky ones.

Lights up to mellow. (Move chair bring table with pills back.)

Ramone: (Sits.) Paul, I’m so sorry. Baby, I don’t know what to say. It’s awful. Just awful. He was so young. I’m so sorry baby. I know you loved him. It’s probably not much comfort, but I want you to know I’ll be here for you anytime you need a friend, Paul, you can count on me. You can cry on my shoulder anytime, baby. I’ll bake you cake even though I don’t bake whenever I know you’re coming. I will, baby, I’ll be here for you. Ok. Well call me anytime. I love you too. I do. (Hangs up the phone slowly. Takes another pill, washes it down with water. Looks out at the audience.)

Lights: Slow fade to blackout. THE END. Lights up. Song: Dan Fogelberg: Longer.

Exit Music: The Pogues: I’m A Man You Don’t Meet Everyday. Donna Summer: MacArthur Park. Journey: Lights.
Lou Reed: Satellite of Love. Jimi Hendrix: Axis, Bold as Love. Journey: Faithfully.

SCRIPT OF "YOU MAY NOW KISS... MY SASS...?"

No comments: