Scene 1
(Crowded Manhattan café with two-top tables closely spaced. Ed Sheerhan playing at a discrete volume. The spotlight is on a Gen-X couple—a man and woman—who is seated at the table center stage. On the table is a Playbill for the Crucible. The woman, MARGERY, is scrolling through her phone, loudly snapping her gum. The man, HENRY, stares at Margery, twitching and groaning with every crack of her gum.)
HENRY:
Jesus Christ, Margery, that gum. You’re driving me nuts.
MARGERY (without looking up from her phone):
Really? I’d never know. You hide it soooo well.
(She puts her phone down and glares at him.)
Chewing drives you nuts. Whistling drives you nuts. People talking above a whisper drives you nuts. Dogs barking. Babies crying. People breathing…
HENRY:
Mouth breathers! The nose was designed specifically for the intake of breath. Sinuses are filters. They clean the air…
(Henry turns to glare at a woman at the next table who has just sneezed.)
Misophonia. It’s not my fault. It’s a disorder…
MARGERY:
Misophonia. Please. It’s not a disorder! It’s just you being your selfish self! We can’t go to movies. People eating popcorn. Too much for your sensitive ears. Can’t go to basketball games because fans have the audacity to cheer for their teams! We had to leave the play at intermission because the elderly man two rows in front of us had the audacity to suck on a cough drop…
HENRY:
The cellophane crinkling! It took him forever to unwrap every cough drop! And I’m not the only one who was annoyed. The woman sitting in the same row as the candy wrapper crinkler kept looking at him too. (Pause. Sigh.)
Nothing bothers you. You’re not sensitive. I can’t help it. I’m a highly sensitive…
MARGERY:
You’re right. I’m insensitive and you’re sensitive enough for the both of us and everyone else on the entire friggin’ island of Manhattan.
(They sit in silence for a minute or so.)
MARGERY (Her voice soft):
It’s not working…
HENRY:
What? Because we left the play? I’ll give you the Reader’s Digest version without the double negatives. Double negatives? Did people really speak like that back then? And did you catch the Ebonics? Everybody be telling lies. Everybody be getting hanged.
MARGERY:
Lower your voice! Do you hear yourself? Hashtag ironic.
HENRY:
What?
MARGERY:
If you heard someone talking as loudly… Oh, forget it. I’m going to the ladies room.
(Margery leaves the table. A gorgeous woman, ASIA, who is at least 15 years younger than Henry, saunters over and sits down with him.)
ASIA:
Is that her? Is that Margery? Looks like she’s perfected resting bitch face.
(Asia crosses one leg over the other and lets her short skirt ride up to her crotch.)
HENRY (startled):
Asia…
ASIA (running her fingers through her long dark hair):
I was so bored at that play, I fell asleep. I was so happy when you left.
HENRY (horrified):
Are you following me? Are you stalking me?
ASIA:
The two of you look so miserable together. Why do you want to be with someone who makes you miserable?
HENRY:
Asia, I’m married. I have a kid. I told you that. I’m sorry. We had a great time. You’re a great girl. But… I’m married.
ASIA:
To a bitch. (Pause.) Does she know about me? Maybe I should tell her.
(Asia pushes away from the table and stands up. Henry grabs her hand.)
HENRY (breathing heavy, through his mouth, looking like he might hyperventilate):
You cannot tell her! Listen to me. You don’t want to be with me. You see how miserable Margery is? I made her that way. Back when we first met, Margery was the sweetest, coolest, most amazing babe. Like you are now. See what a few years with me did to her? Is that what you want to happen to you?
ASIA (brings her head close to Henry’s and snaps a selfie; she posts it on Instagram, #twinflames):
Babe, the psychic on Second Avenue? She told me you’re the one. We are meant to be together. The only thing we need to do is tell Margery.
Margery (quietly reappeared from the ladies room):
Tell me what?
End of scene.
