Monthly Archive for November, 2004

I have on my wall a sign that says, “MUST DO! WRITE TWO PLAYS BEFORE THANKSGIVING!” I know that sounds pretty ambitious but it’s just a reminder for myself to get to writing since I am a play writer. I’d be more realistic if I wrote on that sign a few days ago, “MUST DO! HAVE TWO PLAY IDEAS DONE BEFORE T-GIVING!” That’s more like it and that will begin right now.

You don’t know this but you are going to be with me as I create some play magic. I will hash it out right this very minute. Let me start off with a couple premises.

One that I’m quite fond of is a play about a guy that opens up a plant store called “Struggle’s Exotic Plantery” where I (The lead character of course) sell poisonous plants such as poison ivy and poison oak that are planted in glass cages and other “poisonous” containers. (Kinda like when someone has a deadly snake and needs to be able to show it off and at the same time make it safe for children and adults to view the specimen without getting killed.) Also at Struggle’s I sell dead plants with a thick polyurethane coating on them as a preservative. Here, let me just do a possible scene from the play for you and you can see what kind of flow this fella might have”

This scene will take place in Struggle’s Exotic Plantery. It is a Friday and the end of the workweek just a few minutes away. BOBBY (played by me) is painting the final coating of poly on a half dead ficus that was found in the alley behind the store.

The phone is RINGING but Bobby can’t stop what he’s doing to get the phone.

BOBBY: (towards phone) Hold on a second! Please! Geez-us! Hold on a second for the love of-

A customer in her beautiful late twenties walks into the shop.

BOBBY: Welcome to Struggle’s, is there anything I can help you with?

GIRL: I walk past this place every day and I just had to see what the heck you sold in here. (Looking and stroking a poison oak plant) Very interesting.

BOBBY: Oh, don’t touch that! Sorry, I need to put the glass cover over her. I was just giving her a fertilizing plug and I forgot to cover ‘er up.

The phone continually rings and is starting to bug the girl.

GIRL: Are you going to answer that or what?

BOBBY: Actually, would you do me a big favor-fave and get that for me?

Girl looks at him like he’s crazy.

BOBBY: Come on! You only live once! I’ll give you a good discount on that poison oak plant if ya do? Her name is Annie Oakie, but you can change her-

GIRL: Poison oak!? I just touched that! Are you kidding?

BOBBY: Please just pick up the phone for me? Say, “Struggle’s.” your name, and then “How can I help you?” Please?

Girl picks up the phone.

GIRL: Hello, Struggle’s. This is Girl speaking, how can I help you?.. Uh huh. Right. Sure thing.

(She laughs really hard)

GIRL: Stop it! You’re killing me.. Stop it! I’m going to pee in my pants. What do you want me to say to him?… (To Bobby) What do you sell?

BOBBY: Very dangerous and exotic plants and-

GIRL: (Still on phone) What do I look like? That’s a personal question, Mister.

She looks over to Bobby, who is dying to know who is on the phone, and gives him a look like she can’t get the person to stop talking.

GIRL: Fine. I’m about six foot tall and I have red hair. I have (She squints to look at Bobby’s eyes) hazel eyes, almond shaped eyes. Maybe I’m six-one, I might have grown a bit.

BOBBY: (Loud whisper) Who is it!?

GIRL: (Laughing) Yeah, I’m open on Sundays! EVERY Sunday. Just come by and meet me here. Bye! No, I have to go… I’m hanging up now!

Girl hangs up the phone and wipes her eyes from crying with laughter.
She stops in her tracks, looks at her watch and suddenly freaks out.

GIRL: SHIT! I GOTTA GO!

She looks at herself in the reflection of one of the glass poison ivy containers and fixes her hair.

BOBBY: What do you mean!? Who was that on the phone?

GIRL: I’m so sorry! I have to run or I’ll be late! Nice to meet you!!!

She opens the door and runs out.

Bobby opens the door and yells out to her.

BOBBY: Hey! What’s your name?!

GIRL OFF STAGE: My name’s Girlnessa!… Bye!

BOBBY: I’m not open on Sundays!… (To himself) Please come back.

Bobby closes the door, locks it and flips the “Open” sign around which says “We Are Not Open”.

END OF SCENE

So that was a little teaser that I am proud to say will be the start of one of my two upcoming plays. Now I’m excited to keep writing more of “Struggle’s”.

I mentioned earlier that I was to give you a couple of premises so I will keep that promise, kinda. I will give you the title of the second play and leave you with that for now. Here it is.

“THE RETURN OF THE FAVOR” I know, I can’t wait either!

I’ll keep you posted on the plays!!!

Waited until 12am to get the news. Off to Los Angeles to shoot a Gateway commercial with Joe LoTruglio, Matt Ballard and Chris Crockett, three buddies of mine that lucked out along with me for a gig with Gateway. We are all flying on Delta flight 483, or something like that and I am sitting by what sounds like an Isreali girl that is quite beautiful and unfortunately taken. She already told me.

BOBBY: Do you fly much?
GIRL: All the time. I’m going to see my boyfriend but I live in New York. How about you?
BOBBY: Go to hell.

That’s what I said in my head.

I have another cute girl sitting beside me on the other isle that asked me if I could listen up for her puppy if she fell asleep. I said yes and asked her what her dog’s name was. I don’t remember what she said because I was too busy thinking about a possible move to the seat beside her. She has a set of three seats to herself that look very inviting. She spoke to me first.

OTHER GIRL: Are you going to sleep during the flight?
BOBBY: Depends on the situation. Why, do I look like I need some rest?
OTHER GIRL: (Laughs) No. I might happen to fall asleep and this is her first time flying and she might start getting loud.

(She nods her head toward the seat beside her. I am still looking for a small person. Takes a few beats to understand what the hell she was talking about. Is there a little baby laying on the floor over there?

BOBBY: (Looking around for a baby) What are you talking about- OH! You have a dog! God, I was looking for a baby and I was like…
OTHER GIRL: No, she’s my little puppy. I just haven’t slept in about 24 hours and I was just hoping that you could tap me if I fall asleep and don’t hear her crying.
BOBBY: We don’t want that now do we?
OTHER GIRL: Are a student?

(Haven’t heard that in a while. That’s the opposite of what I feel like, age wise. Not mentally. Mentally I feel like a ninth grader and on occasion, a fifty year old.)

BOBBY: Nah. Are you?
OTHER GIRL: I go to Columbia blah blah blah..

And that’s when I lost interest. Got a young one on my hands here. Time to act like I have something more important to do. Go on to sleep and I’ll tap you on the shoulder if old puppy dog starts yappin’.

Let me tell you something that still amazes me to this day. As most people know, I am the master of making up silly names and accidentally saying these names to strangers without knowing it. Stuff like “Black Bird”, “Friendship”, stuff like that. I called the lady swiping my boarding pass Friendship. “Thanks Friendship.” Called the lady “Candy” at the ticket counter. These slippages happen a lot when I’m sleep deprived, like today.

I can’t tell you how lucky I was in the Starbucks at the airport, not 45 minutes ago. I’ve had a little name that has been stuck in my head for a few months now, one that I chanted on my show a while back. Anyway, I was handing over Matt’s coffee to him as I was paying the nice lady at the register and I said to Matt, “Thanks, black bitch.” Very matter of fact like it really was his name. Been calling all of my friends that for a while now. Nothing at all to do with racism, to me it’s like saying “black snake” or something, just an object. My friend’s get it, doesn’t even phase them anymore. Didn’t phase Matt until I turned red and mouthed to him under my breath. “I can’t believe I just said that.” He in return mouthed to me, “You called me black bitch” And of course the friendly ladies behind the bar were both African American women, not three feet away from me. I don’t know if they had cotton in their ears or what. (There I go again! Now you’re gonna think I’m racist because I brought up the word cotton. Just hear me out, okay?) Anyway, maybe the steam wand went off at the exact same time as when I said it, but they didn’t hear me. At least I think they didn’t. Or they did and in their mind it just didn’t match the personality that I shot at them during the ordering and drink preparation. Maybe it was translated in their mind as, “black snitch” or something like “slack witch”, either way, whatever they heard didn’t affect them at all. It also helps that I have a southern accent. They were like, “Oh, that’s just another racist young man flying back to Cackalacka to be with his racist family and friends.” What an idiot thing to do! Need some sleep.

I just sat down from stretching with the other guys standing by the food and beverage section near the front of the plane. We must have stood there for an hour just hanging with the staff and pounding the bottled waters that the staff had sitting on the table. It is true what someone told me that you can get dehydrated in a plane. That’s not the case with me at the moment, I’m full of liquids, and other things.

I better get ready to land and pack this computer up. Talk to ya soon!