Characters: Jane<\/p>\n
Time: Present.<\/p>\n
Act 1 – Jane\u2019s living room.<\/p>\n
Act 2 – Jane\u2019s living room, bedroom, and kitchen.<\/p>\n
Act 3 – A train back from Boston.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
ACT I<\/strong><\/p>\n SCENE 1<\/strong><\/p>\n (A phone rings. Jane walks into her living room and closes the curtains. She looks like a mess. Last night was horrible, and now she has a headache. She lies down on her sofa facing the audience, and ignores the phone. It goes quiet, then rings again. She walks over to it and picks up the receiver and sets it down to silence the call. It rings again after a second. She finally answers, since she has to.)<\/p>\n JANE: Yes?<\/p>\n (It\u2019s quiet as she listens through the receiver. She\u2019s confused at first, but tired enough that she\u2019d rather not be dealing with it.)<\/p>\n JANE: When was this?<\/p>\n (She listens.)<\/p>\n Yes, that\u2019s\u2014what a horrible, horrible shock\u2026no, don\u2019t cry Christine, it\u2019s alright. She wouldn\u2019t want you to\u2014<\/p>\n (Jane is cut off as she listens again.)<\/p>\n JANE:<\/p>\n (not trying to show her annoyance)<\/p>\n Well, I wouldn\u2019t say\u2026of course I\u2019m upset\u2026alright, thank you, Christine. I\u2019ll see you at dinner on Thursday\u2014<\/p>\n (She\u2019s cut off once more.)<\/p>\n JANE: (continued)<\/p>\n (trying to pack it up)<\/p>\n \u2026let\u2019s try to move on now, have a Quaalude and sleep it off today\u2026yes, take care. Bye, bye.<\/p>\n (She sets the phone down.)<\/p>\n JANE: (to the audience)<\/p>\n That was my cousin, Christine.<\/p>\n (She looks under a couch cushion.)<\/p>\n She loves<\/em> condolence calls. She\u2019s the first one to say sorry for your loss and<\/em> cry at the funeral. I\u2019ve always told her she should be an actress, but she\u2019s too good at being a lawyer.<\/p>\n (She finds a lighter.)<\/p>\n JANE: (continued)<\/p>\n My mom died apparently.<\/p>\n (She waits to see if she feels anything.)<\/p>\n JANE: I wonder what it was. Christine didn\u2019t want to mention that. That\u2019s how you can tell it\u2019s particularly disturbing, isn\u2019t it? Suicide. Car wreck. Burning alive. Decapitation. My ideas are endless.<\/p>\n (she\u2019s irritated.)<\/p>\n But my mother wants to make me sad. Oh, boohoo, my mom wants to see me upset. There\u2019s something new. Meet with the estate lawyer in Massachusetts\u2014she knows just what buttons to push. How does she know just what buttons to push beyond the grave?<\/p>\n (pause.)<\/p>\n Whatever. I wanted to leave New York, anyways. Like I was saying to Julia last night, this studio is unlivable.<\/p>\n (It\u2019s not.)<\/p>\n The balcony door never opens. I call maintenance every<\/em> day. That\u2019s why I moved in\u2014I really wanted a balcony, high ceilings, and good window lighting. So I mean, what\u2019s the point in it? Why install it at all, if you can\u2019t even use it?<\/p>\n (She sighs.)<\/p>\n The lady doth protest too much, me thinks.<\/p>\n (pause.)<\/p>\n I know it\u2019s too hot to go out and see Elle, my really sexy Canadian dealer, but fuck it, I\u2019m celebrating. Sorry, I mean dizzy with grief.<\/p>\n (She picks up her phone and dials the number like a little kid calling their best friend after school. She waits until Elle picks up.)<\/p>\n Elle? Hiya\u2026oh, nothing really, just running around in circles\u2026<\/p>\n (She listens, then talks to the audience with a hand over the receiver so Elle won\u2019t hear her.)<\/p>\n She\u2019s asking me, \u201cWhat can I get you?\u201d I surprise her and say\u2014<\/p>\n (to Elle)<\/p>\n I\u2019m quitting. And I\u2019m deleting this number.<\/p>\n (to the audience)<\/p>\n Please may I inquire about your mourning discounts? She laughs and offers me one.<\/p>\n (to Elle)<\/p>\n Yeah, something happened. I\u2019m glad to be alive.<\/p>\n (to the audience)<\/p>\n She tells me to relax and eat something, and I say that I have, but I actually haven\u2019t eaten in three days since I jumped into the Hudson. Though, not for that reason.<\/p>\n (She holds up her hand.)<\/p>\n My ring fell into the water.<\/p>\n (to Elle)<\/p>\n No, I\u2019m fine. Really, I would rather deal with it later\u2026<\/p>\n (to the audience)<\/p>\n It\u2019s nice that she cares. I say\u2026<\/p>\n (to Elle)<\/p>\n Bye, Elle. I\u2019ll see you soon.<\/p>\n (She ends the call.)<\/p>\n And it\u2019s done\u2014off the sauce, as they say. I\u2019ve always liked Elle. She\u2019s has amazing taste in music. She knows the stuff I\u2019d listen to when I was thirteen. She just knows how to be cool without even trying. What a woman.<\/p>\n (She changes into a t-shirt and some cool jeans.)<\/p>\n (as she\u2019s tying up her laces)<\/p>\n I\u2019m not going to my mom\u2019s funeral. Is that terrible? It can\u2019t be if she was crazy. It can\u2019t be really. I mean she was really\u2026she was like the Mad Hatter. If I were to go, I\u2019d ask Tom, my ex-fianc\u00e9, to come with me, but\u2026<\/p>\n (she pauses, clearly unhappy, but trying to remain nonchalant.)<\/p>\n it\u2019s not the same anymore between us. Now whenever I\u2019m with someone new at 3 A.M, they hold me and I want to vomit. I get so miserable. I\u2019m so uncool. Are you listening? I said I\u2019m uncool. I am. There\u2019s no way around it. I\u2019m twenty five and I\u2019ve been pissed off at everything for years, but not Tom. Not yet, anyway. Actually two months ago, when I moved into this apartment, I quit my job. I know, not the greatest idea. And I know<\/em> that already, but I\u2019m just going to make it clear. I strategically<\/em> ruined my life. I figured that I had enough money in my account for a couple months and I could always find a job later. Well, it\u2019s later now, and I\u2019ve only gotten a job offer from a club down the road where my old boss once grabbed my ass, and my roommate is a girl named Julia, who has a trust fund and perfect cheekbones. She tells me to call her Jules, and I can tell by our shared bathroom that she\u2019s bulimic, but god, she\u2019s so pretty and interesting. It\u2019s her world, I\u2019m just living in it.<\/p>\n (She looks through the couch cushions again, and finally finds what she\u2019s looking for. She lights a Camel.)<\/p>\n So two months ago was when I was standing in Tom\u2019s kitchen, he surprised me with this vase. It was orange and made it Italy. He gave it to me and said, \u201cHappy birthday, my love.\u201d And I wanted to say, \u201cThank you, Tom, you\u2019re the sweetest.\u201d But I just couldn\u2019t because it was so expensive. I couldn\u2019t accept it, not<\/em> after the thing with Fred. It was my fault and I felt bad for Tom, so I told him. I know. It just sort of came out, and it\u2019s been awful and I\u2019m having a terrible time, and I deserve it but still<\/em>. He kicked me out that day. That<\/em> day. And then I thought fuck it, let me start over. So I quit my job.<\/p>\n (beat.)<\/p>\n I wouldn\u2019t call Fred a mistake, but I wouldn\u2019t say he was one of my better ideas either. He was more of a carpe diem sort of moment. Though, when we were in ninth grade, I broke my elbow and he carried me to the nurse\u2019s office and sang The Beach Boys while I screamed and cried.<\/p>\n (beat.)<\/p>\n I promise I\u2019m not a bad person. I just did a really fucked up thing two months ago. But whatever! It\u2019s over. I\u2019m here now, and fuck it. People die all the time, and I\u2019m feeling so alive. I feel good, actually. If I felt any better, you\u2019d need to sedate me.<\/p>\n (She puts the Camel out on her shoulder. Then, she goes to her record player and puts on one of her many records. She puts on \u201cSweet Jane\u201d by The Velvet Underground. She lies down on her couch like she\u2019s at a therapist\u2019s office.)<\/p>\n (casually, pointing at the balcony)<\/p>\n I try to open that door every two hours. What\u2019s the point of a balcony if you can\u2019t jump off of it? That\u2019s my question. Three days ago, Julia and I went to a restaurant near 75 and 9. I thought about how Christine would love this caviar. Mind you, I\u2019m pretty much broke, but I would never ask Julia to pay for me. Anyways, I blew my bank account. I can only eat peanut butter for the next week. I tried to stop myself from ordering all that, but I just couldn\u2019t help it. Something doesn\u2019t click in my brain. It\u2019s funny sometimes. Though not really for me, I guess. I spend everything on the wrong things. But it\u2019s not my fault because it runs in the family. Like my dad. He always\u2014<\/p>\n (Her phone rings. She pauses, turns off the record, and picks it up.)<\/p>\n (beat)<\/p>\n Tom?<\/p>\n (pause, then to the audience)<\/p>\n He\u2019s heard about my mom. Jesus, Christine\u2019s speeding up.<\/p>\n (pause, while she listens.)<\/p>\n He\u2019s sorry, and if there\u2019s anything he can do for me, I should let him know.<\/p>\n (beat.)<\/p>\n I want to tell him not to feel sorry for me because my mom was hardly what you\u2019d call a sentimental or motherly person. In fact the word \u201cmom\u201d is generous. I\u2019m surprised Christine didn\u2019t see her rise from the grave because the cow refuses<\/em> to die and leave us alone.<\/p>\n (getting into character as her mother)<\/p>\n Cherry wood?<\/em> For a coffin?<\/em><\/p>\n (normally)<\/p>\n I\u2019m short of opening a bottle of Armand de Brignac for the occasion. Because this<\/em>. This is a real celebration. This<\/em> is what I\u2019ve been waiting for my whole life, since she forced me out of the fucking womb.<\/p>\n (beat. To Tom, casually)<\/p>\n Thank you.<\/p>\n (pause, she listens.)<\/p>\n He wants to come over. I can tell he misses me, but I know it\u2019s a bad idea. If we sleep together, I know I wouldn\u2019t forgive myself. I know Tom would come over and he\u2019d be too nice to me because my mom\u2019s dead, and I wouldn\u2019t be able to kick him out like I\u2019m normally able to with people. Everyone\u2019s been ruined after Fred, anyway.<\/p>\n (to Tom)<\/p>\n No.<\/p>\n (pause, she listens. To the audience)<\/p>\n He\u2019s hurt that I don\u2019t want to see him. Of course I feel bad for what I did, but I don\u2019t care. He was my fianc\u00e9, but\u2026I don\u2019t think I ever wanted to marry him. Not really. I just figured it was something I had to do.<\/p>\n (to Tom)<\/p>\n I\u2019ll talk to you some other time.<\/p>\n (to the audience, mockingly as Tom)<\/p>\n Do you really think it\u2019s a good idea to be alone and unhappy right now?<\/p>\n (to Tom, annoyed)<\/p>\n I think we can agree that it\u2019s not, and you should stop acting like my father.<\/p>\n (She hangs up the phone.)<\/p>\n The tricky thing about hating your mother is that you slowly begin to see yourself turning into her. For example\u2026<\/p>\n (She lights another Camel.)<\/p>\n I should quit. But I can\u2019t. My mom couldn\u2019t either. I bet that\u2019s what got her in the end. A stroke, maybe. I think the horrible qualities that you have have always been there just waiting to be passed down, but\u2026I don\u2019t know. I\u2019ve been seeing them more and more. Here\u2019s another example, you guys\u2014my mom\u2014god, I couldn\u2019t stand it\u2014I once passed out in an old boyfriend\u2019s bathroom six years ago\u2014too much time spent with Elle a couple hours before\u2014and he said to me, after he had to break down the door, \u201cWhat would your mother say to this?\u201d My mother. My mother?<\/em><\/p>\n (as her mom)<\/p>\n This is child\u2019s play<\/em>. When I was your age, I was shooting up twice a day, and getting straight A\u2019s at Lawrenceville. In fact, I was the top player on the girls varsity tennis team while I was at it. Pull yourself together! You should have gone out there and finished that lovely filet mignon.<\/p>\n (as herself)<\/p>\n I\u2019M A PESCATARIAN, MOM!<\/p>\n (as her mother)<\/p>\n That\u2019s no excuse. You accept what you get, and you eat it like a good girl.<\/p>\n (as herself)<\/p>\n I don\u2019t have to listen to you. I\u2019m going to meet Elle soon anyway, mom<\/em>.<\/p>\n (as her mother)<\/p>\n You mean have some of that disgusting, watered down\u2014<\/p>\n (as herself)<\/p>\n It\u2019s not watered down, she has quality\u2014<\/p>\n (as her mother)<\/p>\n \u2018Quality\u2019<\/em> is generous. I\u2019ve known people\u2014hospitable, altruistic people\u2014who lived inside tents<\/em> sharing every little pink pill\u2014<\/p>\n (as herself)<\/p>\n Oh for god\u2019s sake! FUCK OFF!<\/p>\n (beat. as her mother)<\/p>\n Darling. You speak when you\u2019re spoken to. If you ever pull something like that again, I\u2019ll\u2014<\/p>\n (She puts on the record again, \u201cSweet Jane\u201d by The Velvet Underground. She\u2019s running around her apartment, jumping on the couch, tables, pushing and knocking things over, etc.)<\/p>\n (as herself, with vigor, passion, and intensity. In response to her mother, at first.)<\/p>\n \u201cOnce more unto the breach, dear friends, once more,<\/em><\/p>\n Or close the wall up with our English dead!<\/em><\/p>\n In peace there’s nothing so becomes a man<\/em><\/p>\n As modest stillness and humility,<\/em><\/p>\n (She tries to open the balcony door, but it doesn\u2019t work. She bangs on it hard.)<\/p>\n But when the blast of war blows in our ears,<\/em><\/p>\n Then imitate the action of the tiger:<\/em><\/p>\n Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood,<\/em><\/p>\n (She throws a chair at it.)<\/p>\n Disguise fair nature with hard-favored rage;<\/em><\/p>\n Then lend the eye a terrible aspect\u2014<\/em><\/p>\n (She looks through some drawers.)<\/p>\n Let pry through the portage of the head<\/em><\/p>\n Like the brass cannon; let the brow o’erwhelm it<\/em><\/p>\n As fearfully as doth a galled rock<\/em><\/p>\n O’erhang and jutty his confounded base,<\/em><\/p>\n Swill’d with the wild and wasteful ocean.<\/em><\/p>\n Now set the teeth and stretch the nostril wide,<\/em><\/p>\n Hold hard the breath and bend up every spirit<\/em><\/p>\n To his full height. On, on, you noblest English.<\/em><\/p>\n Whose blood is fet from fathers of war-proof\u2014<\/em><\/p>\n (She talks to the door like an adversary, and throwing random things at it.)<\/p>\n Fathers that, like so many Alexanders,<\/em><\/p>\n Have in these parts from morn till even fought<\/em><\/p>\n And sheathed their swords for lack of argument:<\/em><\/p>\n Dishonor not your mothers; now attest<\/em><\/p>\n That those whom you call’d fathers did beget you.<\/em><\/p>\n Be copy now to men of grosser blood,<\/em><\/p>\n And teach them how to war. And you, good yeoman,<\/em><\/p>\n Whose limbs were made in England, show us here<\/em><\/p>\n The mettle of your pasture; let us swear\u2014<\/em><\/p>\n (She hits the glass door with the record player, but it still doesn\u2019t break. The music is cut off. Pause. She\u2019s taken aback.)<\/p>\n HOW. CAN. IT. STILL. NOT. BE. OPEN? What\u2019s the point<\/em> of a balcony if you can\u2019t jump off\u2014<\/p>\n (The phone rings. Pause. She picks it up.)<\/p>\n \u2026Hello? Oh, hi Elle.<\/p>\n (to the audience)<\/p>\n Sexy Canadian dealer.<\/p>\n (beat. To Elle)<\/p>\n Yeah, I\u2019ll be be there in ten minutes.<\/p>\n (She grabs a jacket.)<\/p>\n (to the audience)<\/p>\n See you.<\/p>\n She exits. Blackout.<\/em><\/p>\n <\/p>\n ACT II <\/strong><\/p>\n SCENE I <\/strong><\/p>\n (A week later. Jane enters in a tank top and shorts holding shopping bags. The room is much tidier, and the record player is mangled but stuck together again. She\u2019s surprised to see the audience.)<\/p>\n JANE: Jesus. You\u2019re back again?<\/p>\n (amusedly, as she\u2019s setting her stuff down.)<\/p>\n Couldn\u2019t get enough of me?<\/p>\n (She looks around the room.)<\/p>\n Yeah, Julia wasn\u2019t too happy about the mess. Didn\u2019t I clean it up well, though? Good as new. It\u2019s like nothing ever happened. She was nice about it, actually. It\u2019s because she\u2019s a Pisces. Or is it Cancer\u2026?<\/p>\n (she lights a cigarette and goes over to the record player.)<\/p>\n Look, I fixed it.<\/p>\n (it\u2019s barely functioning. She looks through her records.)<\/p>\n Well, it\u2019s a little less expensive than when I first bought it, but\u2026<\/p>\n (She puts one on. \u201cLady Jane\u201d by The Rolling Stones plays.)<\/p>\n It works just as good.<\/p>\n (She turns it off. Beat.)<\/p>\n I have to go to Boston tomorrow. Collect the ashes and drop them off at my aunt\u2019s. My aunt is old and decrepit and barely functioning, which is why someone else<\/em> has to pick up my mom. Christine said she would\u2019ve done it if not for the fact that she\u2019s in court defending a child molester at the moment. Believe me, she never would have done it, child molester or not. The point is that nobody wants anything to do with my aunt, and nobody wants to have my mother sitting on top of their fireplace.<\/p>\n (beat. irritated)<\/p>\n My train leaves at 9:30 tomorrow morning.<\/p>\n (She opens a closet door, and looks through it for a minute. She pulls out a suitcase.)<\/p>\n Two days. Just two days in Boston and then I can come back. I\u2019m staying a night at this guest house Julia\u2019s dad, Mr. Bedford<\/em>, owns. He owns about half of Boston\u2019s hotels, basically. I\u2019m having breakfast with him. Don\u2019t tell Julia.<\/p>\n (She talks as she goes into her room, looking through her closet. She holds up a dress.)<\/p>\n Good?<\/p>\n (She looks in the mirror.)<\/p>\n What do married, older men like?<\/p>\n (Beat, as she looks. She tosses it away.)<\/p>\n Not that.<\/p>\n (She carelessly puts clothes in her suitcase. She\u2019s picking the pace up. She pulls out a pretty sundress.)<\/p>\n She pulls out the sundress she wore to Central Park with Fred a year ago and thinks, good enough. Good en\u2014<\/p>\n (she stops, confused. She looks at the audience, embarrassed.)<\/p>\n Um.<\/p>\n (beat.)<\/p>\n This is the dress I wore to Central Park a year ago with Fred. Jeez.<\/p>\n (she reminisces.)<\/p>\n We pet the horses. Drove the tourists in line crazy. He loved animals, and he would never ride a carriage, even though the romantic in him died for it. But he hated seeing the horses pulling the carriages all day. He had a dog, Holiday, who loves the horses, too. She used to run around all over the sidewalks trying to lick any living thing in sight.<\/p>\n (beat.)<\/p>\n I don\u2019t really know where she is right now. Hopefully somewhere nice. A nice, middle class family.<\/p>\n (beat, shutting the suitcase. She adds bottles of pills into her purse nonchalantly.)<\/p>\n Fred, Fred, Fred. He acted like such a little kid sometimes.<\/p>\n (beat.)<\/p>\n My only friend.<\/p>\n (She goes to the kitchen and starts putting away the groceries.)<\/p>\n She thinks about the times he used to play songs for her on the guitar. Old songs from the thirties and forties.<\/p>\n (as Fred, in a transatlantic accent)<\/p>\n It\u2019s war time, my dear. We\u2019ll meet again in 1945. Don\u2019t cry for me, honey\u2014we\u2019ll always have Elle\u2019s shitty speed on 39th.<\/p>\n (as herself)<\/p>\n I mean, it\u2019s crazy. Sad, really. She\u2019s still in love. After all this time. Her only friend. She wants to cry all the time. She\u2019s trying not to right now.<\/p>\n (beat. realizing what she\u2019s done again. she slowly puts the cigarette out. as herself, slowly and contemplative.)<\/p>\n Mr. David Bedford.<\/p>\n (beat.)<\/p>\n Do you think he likes tits or ass better? I\u2019ve got neither, so let\u2019s hope he values personality. Though some may say I\u2019m lacking that, too. I\u2019m actually not all that interested in sex. I haven\u2019t been for a while, to tell you the truth. But I\u2019m interested in sex with Mr. Bedford.<\/p>\n (She thinks about it, then goes back to her bedroom and picks out a fancy bra. She takes her top off and holds it up to herself in front of a mirror.)<\/p>\n I\u2019m going for youthful. Young. Someone different than his wife who\u2019s\u2014I don\u2019t know\u2014got a spark. A different perspective on life to make him feel young again. Someone different. He hasn\u2019t had it good in years. He wants it\u2014doing something dangerous.<\/p>\n (beat, as she looks)<\/p>\n There isn\u2019t a girl out there without a favorite bra. This one\u2019s mine.<\/p>\n (She examines it, then takes out another one from the closet.)<\/p>\n Or is it this one? Fuck.<\/p>\n (She tosses them both on her bed, and puts her shirt back on, frustrated.)<\/p>\n I don\u2019t know.<\/p>\n (beat, still frustrated.)<\/p>\n He hated that I was still with Tom. Fred, I mean. I don\u2019t blame him, of course he felt that way. But her mom loved Tom. Loved him. Her perfect son-in-law.<\/p>\n (She narrates her actions.)<\/p>\n She opens the small window in the kitchen. Another cigarette, maybe? Does it matter? In thirty years when she\u2019s dying of lung cancer, would it matter? What\u2019s one more? She looks around. If she really wanted to, she could use the ottoman and maybe with some twisting and turning, climb through the window.<\/p>\n (beat.)<\/p>\n No, not worth the effort.<\/p>\n (beat. back to normal.)<\/p>\n By the way. He lives in Maine now. He\u2019s with his brother. I feel sorry for him. The way he got tangled up in all my bullshit. I was walking through the bodega, and this guy was parked outside\u2014cool jacket on, sunglasses. I thought, oh wow. He must be a real rough-and-tumble. I waved. He smiled. I thought, what would it be like to go home with him? What was I wearing underneath this again? I stopped by the laundromat yesterday, and the guy who owns it asked for my number. I gave it to him. He has brown eyes and offered me a coupon. I said, \u201cOhhh, no thank you. Oh my gosh, you are so sweet.<\/em>\u201d I don\u2019t know how I deal with myself. I should have taken it, on second thought. A guy on the Brooklyn bridge. My boss\u2019s hand on my ass. Fred. Fred on New Year\u2019s, Tom on Valentine\u2019s Day. Mr. Bedford<\/em>. Who am I wearing these fucking bras for? In a hundred years when I\u2019m dead, what\u2019s going to happen to all these sexy bras? All these bras, they\u2019re actually\u2026well, I\u2019ll just tell you. For example,<\/p>\n (She holds up a bra.)<\/p>\n for Tom, I was a size 2, demure, little thing who could wear Abercrombie and Fitch without feeling insanely guilty. I went to farmer\u2019s markets and only ate 300 calorie dinners in front of him. For Fred\u2026<\/p>\n (She holds up another one.)<\/p>\n I listened to The Smiths and did pottery workshops on weekends, even if I was tweaked out or crazy hungover. I chain-smoked in his living room while keeping my breath tasting like mint. I did all these things. I don\u2019t know why. And for Mr. Bedford, I\u2019ll be young. Naive. Accidentally <\/em>wearing sexy underwear.<\/p>\n (The phone rings. Jane picks it up.)<\/p>\n Helloooo?<\/p>\n (beat. to the audience)<\/p>\n Julia. She\u2019s locked out. Coming up the elevator.<\/p>\n (to Julia)<\/p>\n Okay, I\u2019ll leave the door open.<\/p>\n (She hangs up the phone, then walks to the door.)<\/p>\n I think it\u2019s funny. I think you\u2019re all actually really interesting people. I wonder what it is you wear under your clothes. I love you, and everyone like you. But you should head out soon.<\/p>\n Blackout.<\/em><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/strong>ACT III<\/strong><\/p>\n SCENE I<\/strong><\/p>\n (The train back from Boston, two days later. Jane is slumped against the window, wrapped up in a jacket. Her eyes are all smudged with makeup. She notices the audience, and turns away. Turns back to check if they\u2019re still there. She scoffs, realizing she\u2019ll have to address them.)<\/p>\n Hi.<\/p>\n (The train goes on. There\u2019s a pause as she\u2019s clearly irritated.)<\/p>\n Jesus, it\u2019s fucking freezing in here.<\/p>\n (She finally turns and faces the audience.)<\/p>\n Boston was\u2026fine. My aunt was thrilled<\/em> to have her sister finally not complain about how there hasn\u2019t been enough upkeep in the house.<\/p>\n The funeral parlor was excited to have me. \u2018So sorry for you loss.\u2019 Cheer up, Ted, I\u2019m having the\u00a0 best time of my life.<\/p>\n (beat.)<\/p>\n Once I was there, I was\u2026relieved. I didn\u2019t say much to my aunt. But she did give me this yesterday.<\/p>\n (She holds up her hand to show a ring)<\/p>\n I think it\u2019s nice. I wasn\u2019t interested last night, but I was invited to dinner. Though if I was really in the mood for hour long rants about how immigrants are supposedly taking over the country or which one of our family members is sleeping with whom, I\u2019d have brought some sort of fucking sedative at least.<\/p>\n (beat, contemplative.)<\/p>\n I wonder how my dad\u2019s taking it.<\/p>\n (she gives it a thought, then shrugs.)<\/p>\n People make too big of a deal about grief. Xanax really helps, so I\u2019ve found.<\/p>\n (beat.)<\/p>\n Oh, yeah. That. It wore off a while ago, unfortunately. Exactly five hours ago. It was a bit of a shock. And now\u2026I have a headache.<\/p>\n (beat.)<\/p>\n Anyways. I hope you\u2019re doing well. I was wondering if I\u2019d get any more surprise visits.<\/p>\n (Her phone rings.)<\/p>\n (to Elle)<\/p>\n Hello?<\/p>\n (she listens, sarcastic)<\/p>\n No, I\u2019m sorry, I\u2019ve been sort of busy this morning.<\/p>\n (beat.)<\/p>\n Yes, I\u2019m fine. Listen, what was\u2026yes, I\u2019m fine<\/em>\u2026what was in the\u2014<\/p>\n (she listens, confused and pissed off)<\/p>\n Elle<\/em>\u2026you sold<\/em> them to me, and I had\u2014this morning was just\u2026Elle, for fuck\u2019s sake, at least know what\u2019s in them, fuck<\/em>.<\/p>\n (she listens, then holds her hand over the receiver, to the audience)<\/p>\n I\u2019d just like to say fuck you to all sexy Canadian drug dealers. Fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you\u2014<\/p>\n (to Elle)<\/p>\n Yes, I\u2019m still here.<\/p>\n (she listens for a long time. Finally, she hangs up nonchalantly without saying anything else.)<\/p>\n (after a while, to the audience)<\/p>\n Do you ever think about taking up tennis? That\u2019s what people do, right? Take up tennis or badminton. I think I\u2019ll have to do that.<\/p>\n (beat.)<\/p>\n (She\u2019s visibly distraught, but too embarrassed to show it.)<\/p>\n I\u2019m telling you right now the service next Friday is going to be so pointless. Christine is meeting me there. It\u2019ll be pointless and torture. The last thing my mom would want is a family fucking reunion. You can come, by the way. Fucking hell. Is it hot in here?<\/p>\n (She takes off her jacket.)<\/p>\n Well, actually<\/em>, maybe that\u2019s the sort of thing my mom would have loved. Every long lost cousin or aunt and uncle crowded into one room lying through their teeth. Gone too soon. In a better place. I mean, she might have just loved that.<\/p>\n (beat.)<\/p>\n The hotel was nice.<\/p>\n (beat.)<\/p>\n Breakfast was okay. They didn\u2019t have scones.<\/p>\n (beat. She stares out the window for a while.)<\/p>\n I don\u2019t know what else you want me to tell you.<\/p>\n (beat, she does.)<\/p>\n We went to the men\u2019s bathroom right after breakfast. I didn\u2019t eat of course\u2014I\u2019m a woman, we don\u2019t do that\u2014and I\u2019m there, and we\u2019re fucking\u2026and I\u2019m thinking about how my mom still had my baby pictures hanging up in her living room. Remember what I came for\u2014to collect the ashes. Toss them into a sewer if given the opportunity. I should get a job now, an actual job. Contribute something good to society. We were fucking over the sink, and I was thinking about how, as a kid, I hated my Mary Janes.<\/p>\n (beat.)<\/p>\n And then I puked. All over the sink. I bet it looked terrific. And I didn\u2019t realize it at first, but I was overdosing. I was relieved, actually, when I did finally figure it out between the puking and Mr. Bedford frantically<\/em> trying to zip up his pants. I thought finally. Finally, finally, finally. And all of a sudden, I was on the floor just\u2026crying. Crying and overdosing. And I thought then\u2026how much I didn\u2019t want to die.<\/p>\n (beat.)<\/p>\n I didn\u2019t want to die there.<\/p>\n (beat.)<\/p>\n
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