The Mall


This is a play I wrote for Work in Progress (WiP), the Rhodes College Thursday night theatre informal play workshop/improv game group. It has strong language and mature situations, and should probably just be read by college students and people who are able to handle it. And if you find a serious problem with my language, try to just look beyond it to the meaning of the story (and realize there are worse things to be upset about, like social problems and death and taxes and whatnot).

If you so choose to use this playlet for any purpose, I'd appreciate it if you'd email me and let me know. It'd be kind of fun.



[Late afternoon. Two girls in their early twenties are in the mall. Christie is having a great time being playful, spending some money, and guy-watching; she’s a little ditzy, but prone to being moody. Nicole is impatient to leave for an appointment and isn't there to shop. There is unspoken tension, which neither wants to relieve; it’s really more important than what the girls say.]


Christie: Hey, look at that dress! That is a great dress.

Nicole: It looks like it was made for girls built like Twiggy.

C: Well, it's pretty. (Pause.) I really like the blue shimmer. I had a dress that color. I let my mom borrow it for a Christmas party last year.

N: Did something happen to it like what happened to the dress in "Can't Buy Me Love"?

C: (distracted pause) Let's go in and see their prom dresses.

N: We're kind of past prom. It's fall.

C: Yeah, but they have nice dresses. We'll just try a few on.

N: I really don't want to go in there, Christie.

C: Why not?

N: (increasingly annoyed) I don't want to try on dresses.

C: Oh c'mon Nicole. Hey, if you're worried about how you look, well hey, I'm two sizes bigger than you. You'd look so great in something red, maybe, something slinky.

N: Thing is, I gotta be at the coffee shop in less than an hour…

C: It's not too far a drive; we've got plenty of time. Let's go.

[Christie grabs Nicole's arm and pulls her into the store. Once in, they browse and look at different models of dresses, sales tags, etc.]

C: I need something to wear to the formal in December. But I don't want something Christmassy. It's always red and green, silver and gold, a bunch of the same crap. (Short pause.) What do you think about this?

N: (as though Christie is from Mars) That is slightly ugly. (Pause) Ruffles.

C: I think they're kind of cute.

N: You would.

C: (mock accusingly) Bad mood.

N: Yeah, your momma.

C: How's this? Wow, it's really low-cut. Hey, do you think I should wear it for Allen? Right? Hmm?

N: It makes a great necktie.

C: I'll get him one too and we'll match at the formal.

N: What? You're weird. (smiling)

C: Yes.

[Pause]

C: (Politely) What do you have to do at the coffee shop?

N: I have to talk to my ex. We’ve been meaning to do the coffee thing for a while. I've been dreading it, really.

C: Oh, that's too bad. Paul was a cutie.

N: He was an asshole.

C: (statement) Aren't they all.

N: Not like we don't have our bitchy moments.

C: Yeah, but I guess he just didn't try to understand your problems. Wasn't he always like, "Drive me somewhere," or "Your friend Stacy is hot"?

N: If I were a guy, I'd think she was hot. I mean, she is.

C: But you're a girl, so you think she's got a bad haircut and dresses like somebody's grandmother's fucking china doll. (Pause; looks at sales tag.) $275. I remember in high school I used to spend like $300 a month on clothes, just clothes.

N: Your dad paid for your shit, huh.

C: (offhand) Product of a fruitful marriage, divorce, guilt trip. (Ironic) "Daddy, I hate my life, my friends, my car. I want a Jeep."

N: Must be nice.

C: I think I'd rather have my parents not playing me against one another.

N: (preoccupied) Yeah. I dunno.

C: Dad told me to get a job. I think I'll go apply at American Eagle or somewhere. I like their clothes.

N: I've never bought–well I got some jeans there once.

C: I'd get a staff discount. You can buy clothes on my account when I work there if you want.

N: I'll think about it. (Pauses) C'mon, we need to go soon.

C: Hey, let's stop by Victoria's Secret on the way out. I want to look at the pajamas. I need to get my sister a birthday present. What do you want for your birthday?

N: Oh, I don't know. Like a necklace or something. A necktie, a dress, a boy to wear it.

C: (hasn't been listening) Maybe I'll apply to Victoria's Secret. I've never worked in retail sales before. In high school I did weddings with my aunt's grandma, catering and stuff.

N: Well it's not so bad, customers can be really rude and when you're busy there’s just no way–

C: (interrupting) Gross, that bra is so see-through. Look at that. I would never wear that! Well, maybe. (Hesitates) I need to get some soap while we're here.

N: Why here?

C: They have this one specific kind that smells so good, and it really exfoliates the skin. It's great.

N: You don't need a lot of exfoliation, I wouldn't think. You're only twenty-one.

C: I'm a whole year older than you. I'm getting so aged. I like this soap.

N: I don't see a sales girl around.

C: Oh well, we’ll just wait a few minutes.

[Pause as they stand at the table]

N: (slightly nervous) Gosh. I don’t want to talk to Paul. I don’t feel like having coffee with him.

C: Then don’t.

N: But I feel like I have to, like there are a few things we haven’t gotten through.

C: You broke up, you need to get over things, not walk through therapy towards rehabilitation hand in hand.

N: Yeah, exactly. (Pause) But, I don’t know, I think he’s not handling it very well.

C: (condescending) Riiight.

N: I’m not handling it well either. I still care about him a lot, but he’s such an ass, he makes me so frustrated. I can’t stand the sound of his voice sometimes.

C: (sighs) You need a new man. Quit thinking about him. Let’s talk to those guys over there.

N: High school boys! Great. Jailbait.

C: No, that one’s really cute, the blond one.

N: I’m not biting.

C: He might.

N: (almost serious) Bite me.

C: Oh hush. Smell this soap. It’s like cucumber-y.

N: (pause) We need to get out of here soon.

C: Just wait. The salesgirl will be along in a sec, I just want my fucking soap.

N: I’ve already put off coffee with Paul twice. You know what it seems like when you constantly put off doing something to a guy.

C: Are you afraid he’ll re-break up with you if you don’t show up? Let him assume you had… better things to do.

N: But I think maybe I want him back, and I don’t really want to–

C: No, you don’t want him back. Nicole, he is an asshole, you can do better. He treated you like shit.

N: But I understand what he’s going through, and he’s gotten a lot better…

C: You told me yourself you were sick of being the dumping point for all his problems.

N: Yeah.

C: And what the fuck was he thinking, cheating on you?

N: No, he didn’t cheat on me.

C: Oh. Well, maybe that was someone else I’m thinking of.

[Pause]

N: Where’s the salesperson?

C: Probably sucking off the boss in the back.

N: What?

C: I don’t think you should go back to him.

N: You said you thought he was cute.

C: You can be cute and still be an ass.

N: Yeah, I guess so.

C: Yeah. (Pause) Maybe I’ll just take the soap.

N: There’s probably a camera watching us. See that blinking light?

C: No, just walk in front of me and I’ll put it in my pocket.

N: Don’t do that.

C: C’mon, I’ve never done it before.

N: I don’t want to get fucking caught stealing soap.

C: You didn’t know I was doing it. You were looking at the perfume. I love their vanilla.

N: Put the soap back and let’s go.

C: No, we wait for the sales guy or I liberate this soap for the good of society.

N: (Annoyed) We’ll get caught. Dammit. All right, fine, we’ll wait.

C: Fine. (Slaps soap onto the table)

N: Try not to break anything.

C: Nothing’s going to break, it’s just soap.

N: Yeah, well don’t break the soap.

C: What’s with you? Are you on your period?

N: God, you sound just like Paul.

C: No wonder he broke up with you.

N: What?

C: Just kidding.

N: All right, bitch.

C: I was joking! It was just something funny to say.

N: Oh. Okay.

C: Right.

[Pause]

N: What time is it?

C: Quarter ‘till.

N: (Short pause.) Okay. It’ll take about fifteen minutes to get back from here and then I’ve got to go get my car and drive out there—

C: I could take you, no problem.

N: Ah, but I’d need to get back somehow.

C: I could stay. (Pause) Well, maybe not, but you could call my cell phone. I think I’ll go to the bookstore for a while. You said you wanted a book for your birthday, right?

N: Whatever. Yeah, I guess that will work.

C: No, wait, I have to pick up my pictures before the little photo place closes.

N: When do they close?

C: In a little over an hour. When do you think you’ll be finished with Paul?

N: I don’t know. Oh my God, this is driving me crazy.

C: Crazy! I was crazy once! They put me in a rubber room and I went crazy! Crazy? I was crazy once! (Laughs)

N: That sounds like something you’d learn at camp.

C: It was. Chill out, girl! You are so uptight about this! It’ll be okay; we’ll get out of here soon… I just want (raises voice and articulates the sentence very clearly as an announcement to be heard) the SALESGIRL TO COME TO THE COUNTER SO WE CAN PAY AND GET OUT OF HERE.

N: We could try reverse psychology on her.

C: “Fuck you, sales girl.”

[Pause; nothing happens.]

N: That worked so well. Hey, I’ve got an idea. I will buy you the damn soap if you’ll just get it later, let’s go.

C: I can pay for my own soap y’know.

N: (mumbles) Your dad pays for it you mean.

C: (misheard) It is not mean to ask the salespeople to come over here. I’m a paying customer and all.

N: A potential shoplifter, too.

C: That’s right. They’d better pay attention to me, dammit.

N: Damn straight.

C: Tell Paul you cheated on him.

N: I didn’t. …Why would I say that?

C: I’ll tell him you did.

N: Why? Don’t do that!

C: It’ll be fun.

N: Maybe for you, dear, but this isn’t about you, it’s about him and me.

C: You know, I think he slept with Stacy.

N: (interrupting, sputtering) What are you doing? Are you TRYING to piss me off? Because you’re doing a HELL of a good job!

C: (snaps) Well, maybe if you get mad enough and finally get over him for good, you’ll be a lot happier. You might shut up about it, anyway. That’s all I ever hear about anymore, Paul Paul Paul. Paul’s the best, what a fucker, what a dick, what a great dick, what a loser, should I do this, I don’t know about that, blah blah, blah blah blah! Blah blah!

N: (interrupting) Shut up!

C: Blah blah! Blah!

N: Whatever, daddy’s little girl.

C: Don’t change the subject. I love my daddy.

N: Do you really love your daddy? Did you sit on his lap and console him for his loss when your mommy left you?

C: What loss? My mom was such a bitch.

N: It runs in the family! And apparently so does being fat!

C: Hey, fat goes away, but ugly stays forever.

N: So when is your nose job? You can just put it on daddy’s credit card.

C: Fuck you.

N: Up yours, bitch.

C: I should just leave you here.

N: You would. You just care about yourself anyway.

C: I listened to you bleat all damn afternoon about your ex-boyfriend.

N: At least I’ve got a boyfriend for longer than one night at a time. Are you really so insecure that you can’t… I don’t know––NOT sleep with guys you don’t even know?

C: Paul was only around because you made him, how do you say, “run the bases” slowly! I wonder how long it took him to slide into home. He’s got a big bat, right? Rubbery balls? Did you remember to wear cleats? He must be a walking nature reserve for “athlete’s foot”! Ha!

N: You disgust me. You think you’re so clever.

C: This is so fun!

N: What the hell is wrong with you, you’re not even normal.

C: I’m having a ball, you are so wound up! This is awesome!

N: The fuck? Christie, you are seriously dicked in the head.

C: Not as much as you were when you went to see “Can’t Buy Me Love” with Paul at the drive-in, from what I heard.

N: I am so never telling you anything ever again about Paul and me. We’re in fucking public having this conversation!

C: Thank God, she wants to stop talking about it! I’ve heard enough about your damn problems from Paul anyway.

N: You hardly know Paul.

C: Wasn’t it completely obvious, he was screwing around with me the last two months, Nicole.

N: (not looking at Christie) Fuck you. Fuck you. Don’t even joke about this. Fuck. You.

C: You never told me you had a tattoo. Getting it must have really hurt.

N: (brightly sarcastic) No, it was actually quite refreshing.

[Enter Salesgirl.]

Salesgirl: May I help you with something?

N: Go away.

C: Fuck you, salesgirl. (Leans over to her conspiratorially) You know, I never mean a damn word I say.

Salesgirl: I think I’m going to have to ask you to leave. I’m getting the manager. (Leaves.)

[As the girls talk, they barely hear what the other says; their sentences overlap.]

N: There she goes. What about your soap?

C: Let’s get out of here.

N: (incredulous) You! You are amazing! You boggle my mind!

C: It’s late.

N: You have no conscience evidently! No sense of what you just shouldn’t talk about! And your logic is totally alien to anything a real human might use!

C: That soap is kind of scratchy anyway.

N: How can you nonchalantly say so much shit, and just––

C: Maybe you’d like some. I’ll buy you a bar of it. You like cucumbers, right?

N: –Just, just act like it never happened?

[They start walking out of the store and end up standing a few feet away.]

C: You certainly need to start taking better care of yourself, now that you’re single.

N: Are you the only person who even matters in your little world?

C: I work out twice a week now, and I’m going to start running.

N: I bet you aren’t hearing a damn word I’m saying.

C: You could come with me. I think I need some new running shoes.

N: It’s like I’m talking to… I don’t even know!

C: I was just playing, you know. Paul didn’t cheat with me.

N: Sometimes it seems like I don’t have any real friends.

C: I heard Stacy was a lesbian.

N: You don’t know what it’s like, when your boyfriend breaks up with you…

C: Or maybe her little sister is a lesbian. Or it could run in the family.

N: … and suddenly your best friend is gone, and nobody is supportive at all…

C: I think Stacy could be fashionably bisexual. Why can’t she just pick a side?

N: I mean, I’ve talked to all my friends about this, I can’t understand why nobody can just listen to me for once.

C: (Stops her) Here, have some soap! (Puts the soap in Nicole’s hand) Happy early birthday.

N: (wakes up; looks at the soap. Pauses.) Christie. My goddamn birthday is in APRIL. This is NOVEMBER. (Pause) You took the soap!

C: Come on, you’ll miss coffee with Paul.

[Nicole hesitates, then sighs, irritated, and allows Christie to take her by the arm. Exuent.]


Issue 26:
The Mall
Daughter of a Pig
Quotes
Back to Negative SixX
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