Game. Stop.

Last Friday was a little fundraiser for the next installment of Seven Deadly Plays in the basement of The Abbey Pub.  Everyone did such a fine job. The storytellers rocked, Blood Oath delivered some damn fine improv comedy, Cassie and her crew capped the evening nicely with a staged reading. Elisa provided some amazing ticket giveaways for Abbey Pub shows and Don Hall and I devised some fun ways for people to win those tickets. Instead of a raffle, we decided to have people compete in short improv games. Everyone who played won something. Good times.

In honor of the event, I wrote a short play for the space we were in similar to how the Seven Deadly Plays were written. On Thursday afternoon, I met with director Michael Carnow and we checked out the place. There were coats on a long rack along one wall, which is also the area we were going to use to perform. They asked if they should move the coats and we excitedly said "No!" The coats were left behind by people who forget them and never came back for them. Some of them have been there since winter. If you read the play below, you'll find out what Michael and I discovered amongst the coats.

Below is the piece I wrote for Carnow and his crew. I started writing it at 5:45pm Thursday, taught a class, finished it up at home, went to bed, got up and polished it some more and sent it off to everyone at 8:15am Friday.

I worked with them last year on the Damen Silos piece which, if you haven't seen it, is quite serious and a little gut wrenching. I was determined to deliver a comedy to them with some fun stuff for them to do as an alternative.

And here it is...

"Game Stop"

Written by Joe Janes

8/16/13

Cast:

Barbra (Rebecca Loesser)

J.J. (Chris Waldron)

Moose (Erika Geller)

Dave Kitsberg (audience member)

(Lights up on J.J. working the coat check at The Bottom Bar. Moose, a woman, is behind the bar.)

J.J.

Welcome to The Bottom. I’m J.J.. I’ll take your coat and at the end of the night, you’ll throw me a buck or two if you’re not a jerk. People come here to sand off the edges of the day, meet someone, and put some new edges on the night. Sometimes they fall in love. Not the fireworks and harp strings kind of love. More like the screeching tires and breaking dishes kind. Moose behind the bar will keep the evening’s gears greased for you. How are you doing tonight, Moose?

MOOSE

Rent is due, I ate a gyro too fast and my panties keep riding up my crack.

J.J.

That’s Moose.

MOOSE

And my cat died.

J.J.

Sorry to hear about Mr. Fucker.

MOOSE

Drowned himself in his own water bowl.

J.J.

Your cat committed suicide?

MOOSE

Yep. Mr. Fucker cashed in his own chips and I don’t know why. I hate it when they don’t leave a note.

J.J.

This is The Bottom. During the slow times, I like to go through your pockets. I don’t steal nothing. I’m just a curious creature. (J.J. reaches into the pocket of a coat and takes a nametag out.) Hmmm... Lookie here. (He puts it on someone in the audience.) For all intents and purposes, from now and for the next ten minutes, you shall be known as Dave Kitsberg, GameStop store manager. (J.J. returns to his station at the coat check.) Not sure I’d want to be in your shoes, tonight. (Barbra enters and with very little energy and enthusiasm hands him her coat and sighs.) Sheesh, Barbra. Looks like you should have stayed in bed.

BARBRA

I tried, J.J.. It just reminds me of him too much. It smells like him. I need to drag my bed out to the alley on trash day.

J.J.

Or you could do laundry.

BARBRA

That's not an option. Some day. Some day I’ll do laundry. (She sniffs her blouse.) Right now, I just need to forget.

J.J.

You picked a bad night.

(She looks at him quizzically. He indicates with his head that Dave Kitsberg is sitting not far from there. She looks with a mix of hurt and disgust.)

BARBRA (to J.J.)

Who's the harlot?

J.J.

I don't know. Ain't never seen her before. Don't go doing anything stupid.

BARBRA

Thirty-three years too late for that advice, J.J..

J.J.

Then don't do anything stupid while sober. Go see Moose.

BARBRA

Maybe I will.

(Barbra walks over to the bar while giving the evil eye to Dave Kitsberg and his date. Moose is behind the bar cleaning glasses.)

MOOSE

Hey, Barbra.

BARBRA

Is he looking at me?

MOOSE

Is who looking at you?

BARBRA

Dave Kitsberg. The store manager at GameStop.

MOOSE

Yeah. He's looking at you.

BARBRA

Does he look forlorn?

MOOSE

Does he look what?

BARBRA

Does he look like he’s eating a pork chop but wishes he had ordered the prime rib that just walked by?

MOOSE

He's kind of smirking a bit. Does forlorn look like smirking?

BARBRA

Pour me a double, Moose.

(Moose pours two shots.)

BARBRA

You could have put them in the same glass.

MOOSE

I thought double meant you wanted the same thing twice.

BARBRA

Never mind. (She does one of the shots and swings around to glare at Dave Kitsberg. She belches loudly and turns back to the bar with a flourish.)

BARBRA

I didn't mean to do that.

MOOSE

It sounded awesome.

(She picks up the other shot and walks toward Dave.)

  

BARBRA

Oh, hello, Dave Kitsberg. I didn't see you there. Is this your date? You’re quite lovely. (To Dave's date or whoever is sitting next to him. Fine if it's a guy, too.) Do things feel like they are going in slow motion to you, honey? Because that's what usually happens to me when I'm in an accident. The accident you are now in with Dave Kitsberg as your heart collides with his arrogant manhood. His big, handsome, rugged arrogant hood of man. (She does the shot.) I was going to throw this in your face, Dave Kitsberg, but even cheap booze isn't good enough for you.

(As much as she tries to suppress it, a burp still comes out. J.J. walks over with his coat.)

J.J.

Barbra, maybe you should get some air.

BARBRA

Maybe I should have gotten some air instead of stopping in to GameStop that night to trade in my Halo3. GameStop. (She laughs) Get it? Maybe you should stop the games, Dave Kitsberg. Do you remember what you said to me when I walked into your precious little store? Do you, Dave? Say it!

DAVE

.....

BARBRA

So fucking smooth. A woman doesn’t stand a chance with you, saying things like “......” while wearing your red GameStop polo shirt, your muscles rippling just beneath the cotton/poly blend. The way you walked in front of me and reached for the top shelf for my game. Presenting your butt to me. That butt! (To his date) Have you sunk your teeth into that, yet? Like bobbing for two big crisp apples on an ocean wave. You knew what you were doing the whole time. Luring me in. Setting a trap with your masculine wiles. Stop the games, Dave Kitsberg. Like the ones you played with my affection when you put your game cartridge into my XBox. He played for hours. He really knows his way around a woman’s controller. X-Y-B-B-A, X-Y-B-B-A, X-Y-B-B-A (She almost has an orgasm). And then you just tossed me aside like a used up Red Redemption and hooked up with whatever trashy shoot’em up came along.

(Moose walks over with two more shots and hands one to Barbra.)

J.J.

What are you doing?

MOOSE

This is getting good.

MOOSE

L’chaim.

(Barbra does one of the shots, burps, and Moose does the other.)

J.J.

Look, Dave. It's none of my business. I'm just a lowly coat checker. But I see you in here with a different beautiful girl on your arm every night of the week.

MOOSE

Of course you do, he’s the manager of a GameStop.

BARBRA

Every night?

J.J.

Every night.

MOOSE

Wait. You work coat check every night? Seven nights a week?

J.J.

Yes.

MOOSE

Your life sucks.

J.J.

I know. My point is, Dave Kitsberg, that when you and Barbra got together, I thought, maybe, just maybe. Maybe she'd be the one that would make you want to fall in love and settle down. She's a good woman. She deserves the best. That's why whenever she checks her coat with me, I put it near the front on a wooden hanger. I make sure it has room to breathe and isn't crowded by some over perfumed mink or some tobacco stinking overcoat.

BARBRA

You do that for me?

(He nods.)

MOOSE

I give you free drinks.

BARBRA

I don’t pay for my drinks?

MOOSE

I've never seen you pay and I don't push it. It's okay. I like the light you get in your eyes when you're tipsy.

BARBRA

That's so nice.

MOOSE

One time you were so drunk, I had to hold your hair for you while you ralphed in the urinal.

BARBRA

I don't remember that.

J.J.

I do. I wiped the vomit off your scarf and put you in a cab.

BARBRA

What do you know? I guess, I never saw the people who really care about me. Hear that, Dave Kitsberg? There are people who really care about me. I don’t need you. I never needed you. I'm sorry I interrupted. You and your harlot have a lovely evening. (To the harlot) If he tells you he can get you five free games a week, he's a liar.

J.J.

Do you want your jacket?

REBECAA

No, I do not. Please put it somewhere where it won’t smell like Dave Kitsberg or (sniffs Dave’s date) plums and toothpaste. Moose, start pouring.

MOOSE

I’ll get right on that.

(Moose gets behind the bar and pours another shot. Barbra follows.)

BARBRA

I don’t need a man like Dave Kitsberg tracking mud through my life. I have friends, right here. Moose and J.J.. I’m going to drink until I puke. Then J.J. is going to take me home and if I’m too drunk to make love to, just lie to me and tell me you did. Okay?

J.J.

We’ll not do it all night long.

BARBRA

Okay, then.  

J.J.

Well, Dave Kitsberg. Looks like she’s moving on. How do you do it, man? How do you have all these women and some men fawning all over you? What’s your secret?

DAVE

...

J.J.

I think I know what she’s going through. I find myself loving and hating you, too. (He heads back to his station and carefully hangs up Barbra’s coat.) This is The Bottom. Where people come to forget and make new memories that they will also try to forget.

BARBRA (Holds up glass.)

Fuck Dave Kitsberg.

(She drinks and belches. Blackout.)