Lodestar Quarterly

Issue 8 • Winter 2003 • Drama

Meaningless

Peter Sinn Nachtrieb

A Much-Needed Burrito

Blackout. Music plays.

The lights rise. TED is sitting in a chair, looking not so good.

Blackout. Lights up and TED is still sitting in the chair, mumbling to himself. A little more junk on the stage.

Blackout. Lights up. More candy wrappers and twinkies on stage. TED has a giant bowl of Cocoa Puffs which he eats slowly with a large spoon.

Blackout. Lights up on TED holding an Abercrombie and Fitch bag. He stares at it. He starts passionately making out with the male model on the bag.

Blackout. Lights up on TED, who intensely reads a brochure brightly labeled "Starting Again with the Peace Corps."

Blackout. The lights rise on TED's apartment. Trash is everywhere: pizza boxes, Chinese takeout, maybe some porn magazines. The phone rings somewhere under the pile of junk. TED emerges in an ugly bathrobe. He's tired. He looks around for the phone. He finds the phone.

TED
Hello? Oh. hi... No you are not... I'm sorry, you were only my daddy last night! Do not call me again! You're not really a priest, are you!?

He hangs up the phone.

It's been a few weeks since Linda left me and I was ejected from the new economy. I haven't left my apartment. I just watch pornography, eat takeout, and narrate my own play. And to make things worse, the landlord now wants to give the apartment back to a low-income family! Linda has yet to call and apologize. She had to leave at the worst time. Nobody wants to be with me. Except for the fine ladies at the Psychic Friends network. I love Crystal. She's my new best friend, and for only $3.99 a minute! Yesterday, she told me she had this strong sense that I would have a jarring encounter from my past very soon, like maybe even today, and that I really needed to prepare myself. I was totally going to prepare, but then I just masturbated to a Web cam instead.

There is a knock on the door.

Oh God, I hope that's not the landlord. Ooo! Maybe its Linda at last coming to apologize for calling me a selfish person and ready to return and take care of me. Yes. OK. I need to put on my wounded face.

There is another knock.

Just a minute.

He puts on his wounded face.

OK, I'm ready. Act pained.

He walks to the door. Pauses a moment and then opens it. It's JAN.

TED
Jan!

JAN
Ted!

pause

TED
Jan!

JAN
Ted.

TED
Jan!

pause

JAN
Ted.

pause, and then uttered very quickly

TED
Jan.

JAN
Ted?

TED
Jan.

JAN
Stop it.

TED
Sorry. Please, come in, I just... I just can't believe its really...

He faints.

JAN
Are you all right?

TED
(after a little pause) Yeah. I didn't faint. Just a brief sudden unexpected nap, really, not really any major...oh golly lord Allah...

JAN
Well, at least you didn't pee.

pause

That was a joke.

TED
Oh. Right. HA! That was funny. Ha ha. Thank God I'm wearing my Depends today.

He pinches JAN.

JAN
Ow.

TED
OK. You're not a figment.

JAN
You're acting weird.

TED
What? Oh. Shit! Sorry. I'd blame it on crack, but I don't use crack. Holy SHIT!

JAN
What?

TED
I look horrible! My god, Jan, I usually look so much better. In fact, I've been told several times by homeless people asking for money that I am the hottest guy in San Francisco.

JAN
Oh.

TED
Yeah, things are so great here for me. Great job, great friends and its a never-ending sex and love party. I'm in love with a different guy, and a different sexual position every week. Last week was "party bottom week" for me. I had this incredible boyfriend, and he was a party top and we just topped and bottomed and partied. HOLY SHIT!

JAN
What?

TED
I'm totally lying.

JAN
Are you sure you're all right?

TED slaps himself.

TED
Oh, yeah! Yeah totally no problem absolutely holy goodness the world is a beautiful touching place of glory isn't it? I'm going to shut up now. How are you? What are you doing here?

JAN
I'm moving here.

TED
(squealing a little high pitched) Ahhh!

TED briefly faints again.

TED
Whoa. Sorry. I must be tired.

JAN
I work for this investment banking firm, and they want me come out here and deal with their tech sector accounts.

TED
Oh, how neat.

JAN
Yeah, the tech sector is totally this limitless source for happiness and profits.

TED
Oh, totally, that's one iron-clad bubble. So you're gonna be living here?

JAN
Yeah.

TED
Did you want me to move to the East Coast? Because that's asking a bit too much.

JAN
No.

TED
Oh, good. Well...you should be a hit with the ladies. There are only 12 other straight men in the entire city, so you'll be able to date lots and lots of desperate lonely women...

JAN
I'm not straight.

TED
Oh. Right. That's true, I guess it always did bend to the right a bit when you were...

JAN
No. Like...I'm gay. For real this time.

TED
But, what about all your heterosexual dreams?

JAN
I tried. I really wanted to be straight. I wanted to get married, have some kids, and I enjoyed hanging out with straight guys. You know, engaging in platonic activities like sailing, rowing crew, drinking beer and watching soft-core pornography in a hotel room with 10 random strangers who met through a chat room.

TED
Did you date any women?

JAN
A few. They were...cool. They were pretty amazing people, really smart, fun, boyish. I was into the boobs a lot.

TED
Who isn't?

JAN
But none of them really worked out.

TED
The boobs?

JAN
The relationships. Something wasn't there.

TED
A penis.

JAN
That feeling right here. That feeling in the chest, where it feels like your ribs are tingling, compressing, like your soul is being massaged with a woodwind cleaner.

TED
I know that feeling.

JAN
Yeah.

TED
I haven't had that feeling in a long time.

JAN
Me neither.

pause

JAN
I brought you something.

TED
Oh.

JAN hands TED a rolled up t-shirt. Pause.

JAN
It's a shirt.

TED
Yeah. It is a shirt.

JAN
I made it. I make shirts sometimes.

TED
Oh. Thanks. Thanks for the shirt, Jan. I'm sorry, is this an apology present for breaking up with me? Because if it is, it's too little too late. I think the going standard for apology present is 20 dollars per month of the relationship. So, really, you should be giving me a whole designer outfit, or a '77 Chevy Caprice.

JAN
Open the shirt.

TED unfolds the shirt. He reads the front of the shirt and gasps. He turns it to the audience. It says, "Jan loves Ted."

TED
Jan loves Ted?

JAN
Yeah.

TED
Jan... loves... Ted?

JAN
Yeah.

TED
You printed this on a shirt?

JAN
I didn't know if I'd be able to say it. So I printed it out. As an ice breaker, you know?

TED
Oh. My God. I don't know what to say. This is...this is... really... tacky.

JAN
Well you don't have to wear it.

TED
Is this a joke, or do you really want me to pee in my pants?

JAN
It's not a joke. I had an epiphany.

TED
You need a tissue?

JAN
Not that kind. Two months ago. I was out at this bar in the East Village, Vinyl Studio Project 57, with almost all the friends I had made since school: Chet, Sandy, Trev, Bo, Cassie, Jenna, Paulie, Mo, Max, Sammie, and Mr. Peeps.

TED
Mr. Peeps?

JAN
This exhibitionist neighbor who followed me everywhere at a moderate distance, but that's not important. We were all there: Drinking, talking NASDAQ, telling our favorite percentage yield jokes, and I was pretty toasted.

And, maybe it was the Captain Morgan's, but this weird feeling came over me, a tingling. Like the way a volcano feels before it erupts probably. I looked around at this fuzzy group of people, my closest friends, blabbing loudly and spinning in my brain, and the feeling just grew and grew. I started to laugh. I banged a bar stool on the ground, whooped loudly, until everyone at the bar was looking at me. And in my full singing voice, I shouted "This sucks!" And then I started crying, and my stomach caved in. My friends scattered. Then I threw up. Then I thought of you.

TED
Oh. And did Mr. Peeps stop following you after that?

JAN
Stop trying to be witty. I'm trying to tell you I felt really alone. I realized the last two years have been a joke. That I hate myself, what I've become, that I hate what I did to you. That college and being with you was the best time of my life, and I want it back. Ted, I'm sorry... I'm so sorry I did what I did to you.

TED
It's called dumping, Jan.

JAN
Right. I made a mistake. I... love you. I think we should get back together. We could date again, and then if stuff is as great as it was, maybe we could, I dunno, live together, spend the rest of our lives together or something cool like that. What do you think?

TED
Let me recap here. You're moving out to San Francisco, you've realized for the second time you're not heterosexual, and that you've been in with love me all this time, are tired of hiding it, and want to be together with me for the rest of your life?

JAN
Yeah.

TED
Well, shit. That's my fantasy, Jan. I've worked 120 hours a week, tried to be monk then later a slut to make my brain too tired to stop thinking about you.

JAN
How slutty?

TED
And now you're telling me my dream will become come true?

JAN
It can. I want it to. If you still love me. Do you?

TED thinks.

TED
Yes I do.

JAN
I knew it.

TED
I'm still in love with you.

JAN
So...That's great...This is great.

TED
It's made me miserable, annoying, and a horrible friend.

JAN
Well, we can work through it.

TED
I just need to accept it.

JAN
Yeah.

TED
Embrace it, and let it flow out. Then I can move on.

JAN
We can move on. Together.

TED puts his hands on JAN's shoulders, his eyes seem to be full of something. He speaks tenderly.

TED
Jan, there's no chance in hell I'm going to get back together with you.

JAN
Excuse me?

TED
I'm sorry, did I just say that? I didn't mean to say that at all. Wow. What I totally meant to say was: How dare you come here, throw an "I love you" shirt at me and expect me to come running back at you with thighs wide open? Just because you realized you've been a liar for two years.

JAN
But, you said you still love me.

TED
I know, you turd! But, I don't think it's you. It's a different Jan, the Jan I made in my personal version of Weird Science. It's crazy. I'm 24 and I think that the best thing possible, the best man possible, has already happened. And all that's left in life is going to pale in comparison. I met Mr. Right and Mr. Right dumped me. So I might as well just lower my standards and expectations, and just go out and there and fuck any guy who sustains eye contact, because the best is over, the world sucks, and I'm over the hill. I am sick of dwelling in the past and remembering you as the best thing to ever happen in my life, and that we shared our best years together. I want some better best years. Certainly they have to be better than these last years I spent in love with you.

JAN
You're not making much sense.

TED
I know. I know. Maybe the playwright doesn't know how to express what he's trying to say right now.

JAN
Hey. Don't blame this on someone else.

TED
But... Yeah I know.

JAN
I guess this was a mistake.

TED
Maybe.

JAN
I thought you'd understand. I thought we had a history.

TED
We did. We did.

JAN
I... I don't know what to say.

TED
How about... Goodbye?

JAN
Excuse..

TED
Yes how about saying that? Now.

pause

JAN
Goodbye.

He looks out, and then down. Some music plays. Coldplay's "High Speed" is pretty nice. He starts to pick up some of the junk off the floor, starting to clean up as the lights fade out.

Fade to a spot on JAN standing on the street. He looks at the shirt, and then throws it away. He wipes a tear from his eyes. He tries to decide which way to walk, chooses away and disappears into the darkness.

Fade up on LINDA standing outside smoking a cigarette. It's a cold night. She looks up at the sky, but can't see too many stars except for a few. We see TED appear in the darkness. LINDA sees TED.

TED
Hi.

LINDA
Hi.

pause

TED
I miss you so much.

LINDA
I know.

TED
I'm so lonely. I really need you.

LINDA
I know.

TED
Am I too late?

LINDA
It's only 9:45.

TED
I'm sorry.

LINDA
Come here, you big lug.

They embrace warmly.

TED
That was so nice. So emotional. So genuine.

LINDA
Not very gen-x at all.

TED
No irony whatsoever.

LINDA
Just two lonely souls desperate to connect to something.

TED
Well now you just made it ironic.

LINDA
That wasn't ironic. That was cynical.

TED
Oh.

LINDA
There's a difference, biology major.

TED
I know! I took a postmodernism class. Jeez.

pause

So, how's everything with Ketel?

LINDA
She moved.

TED
What? No!

LINDA
Yeah, she said she's "tired of all the San Francisco bullshit." She "needs to live in a place where people are serious about life."

TED
Where's she going?

LINDA
Los Angeles.

TED
There's a really good joke there, I just know it. Are you OK?

LINDA
Not really.

TED
If you want to talk...

LINDA
That's the first time you've offered since 1998. I'd like that. What happened to you?

TED
I dumped Jan.

LINDA
What?

TED
Long story, but the first step to getting over addiction is accepting you have one, right?

LINDA
So they say.

TED
Plus he was not looking so good when he came by. Bloated. I'm ready to move on.

LINDA
Thank God.

TED
So, where do we go? We've been laid off, no love interest, and no real friends or roots.

LINDA
Except for each other.

TED
Where do we go next?

LINDA
Why don't we stay here?

TED
Long term?

LINDA
Maybe.

TED
I don't know. I'm scared of commitment.

LINDA
I'm scared of looking at my life and realizing I've done absolutely nothing of value.

TED
Touché.

LINDA
We don't have permanent jobs. We never call a bar our favorite for longer than 4 months. Rarely does anyone make it past 3 dates. And we can't be even be sure of the city we live in. There's always something else better out there waiting for us to find it: A better job, a better city, a better lover.

TED
Well, I don't have a job, I'm tired of "The Makeup Martini Shack," Muni sucks ass, and I can't find a decent man who does! So, yes, I'm still looking because maybe something is better out there.

LINDA
But we're just going to go through life being dissatisfied and jaded.

TED
Yeah.

LINDA
That sucks.

TED
That, in a nutshell, is our generation's philosophy on everything in the world.

LINDA
You don't think we're just being selfish and spoiled?

TED
Well, yeah. When are you just going to accept and embrace the way we were raised, Linda?

LINDA
But didn't you...we learn something in these last couple years, which feels now like 100 minutes plus a ten minute intermission, Ted? Wasn't that the whole point of having a whole play about your life? Weren't you supposed to come to a conclusion that will lead to a more fulfilling existence?

TED
I did!

LINDA
What?

TED
That you're my best friend and I don't want to lose you and there's nothing more important than that.

LINDA
Aw.

TED
That I do want something more out my life.

LINDA
That's pretty good.

TED
And that there are no really good gay bars in San Francisco.

LINDA
At least you have a choice of bars.

TED
I'm glad you're here.

LINDA
I'm glad you're here, too.

TED
You know, if I weren't gay, we'd be married right now.

LINDA
Ted.

TED
Yeah?

LINDA
Don't spoil the moment.

TED
Fine, fine. Sorry. I just...

LINDA
What?

TED
I just wanted to say I'm ready.

LINDA
For what?

TED
Whatever. I don't know. The next act?

LINDA
(to audience) Please, do not panic. You will not be seeing the next act this evening. I think we've all had enough of Ted for a while.

TED
I thought you didn't want to narrate anymore.

LINDA
Well, I saw some worried faces out there. And the play's almost over. We need to wrap this up.

TED
Yep, just three more lines after this one until we do it all again tomorrow night.

LINDA
Don't remind me.

pause

LINDA
Do you want to get a burrito?

TED
Oh, yeah.

Lights fade out quickly.

End of Play

All Pages:   See the entire play on one page

Table of Contents:   Meaningless

Peter Nachtrieb is a San Francisco Bay Area-based playwright, actor, and director. His solo show The Amorphous Blob, which he wrote and performed, was seen at San Francisco's Venue 9 in 1997 and at the Seattle Fringe Festival in 1998. His short play, Self Help, received the 2000 Emerging Playwright Award from Playground Theater Company in San Francisco. He is a frequent sketch comedy writer for the very popular San Francisco performance group Killing My Lobster. He has written two one-act plays, Thread and Multiplex. Meaningless his first full-length play.

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