“SPECIAL DELIVERY” A play by Glenn
Posted in: Mood Swings, Writings on December 12, 2006 at 6:00 am by Glenn.Mood: Depressed
I’ve never written a play… Here’s the first one. If you’re interested that is…
“SPECIAL DELIVERY”
A play in HOWEVER MANY ACTS IT TAKES
(1st draft)
written by Glenn Magas
CAST OF CHARACTERS
THERMOS OSBRINK ………………………. a male office worker / family guy (39)
BEN COBELLO (KOBE) ……………………. a male office worker (39)
DAVID WONG ………………………………. Thermos’ boss / male(29)
SIMONE BREHANE …………………………. a female office worker (25)
ACT ONE
(AT RISE we see, THERMOS (39), sitting at the edge. His hands clutch the edge, he looks out into the audience. On stage is an office set, a desk, phone, computer, bookshelves and a motivational poster of DREAMS and COURAGE.)
(Thermos looks bad: disheveled, his tie pulled down, the top button of his shirt loose, his sleeves rolled up. He looks down at his shoes.)
Thermos: One of those crappy days… depressed, frustrated, suicidal.
(beat)
Thermos: Suicidal?
(he thinks about it)
Thermos: Kinda. But maybe just a passing moment as I realize I have to wake up and go to work I guess. I have tried to convince myself it will never end. Ever. It’s impossible. Who cares anyway? Besides, my office isn’t high enough. I’d probably bounce but survive. Caffeine only helps me stay awake despite the crap. I’d rather be asleep.
(he looks at his watch)
Thermos: About that time again.
(He gets up, rolls down his sleeves, buttons his shirt and pulls his tie up. As he speaks he mulls around the office, closes the window, turns on his computer – gets ready for work. The lights brighten)
Thermos: I think of excuses everyday. I have a migraine. A doctor’s appointment. I need to pick someone up from the airport. I’m sick. Can’t I just say I’m hating work today more than yesterday and need to stay home to get over it?
(He looks out the window)
Thermos: Eight floors. Eight seconds. Bounce.
(he sits at his desk)
Thermos: Then I’d be back up here after a stint at some psych ward eating crap and watching Giligan’s Island reruns or something. Hell, better than this right?
(Knock on the door and KOBE, a tall dark skinned gentleman in a suit enters)
Kobe: I didn’t see you leave yesterday.
Thermos: I don’t remember what time I left. 3:30?
Kobe: You okay?
Thermos: Just busy.
Kobe: Da’ man gotcha workin’ your ass off?
Thermos: Na… same shit.
Kobe: Different day. Same here, ma bradda. You gonna eat?
Thermos: Not today. I’m not hungry.
Kobe: Did you have a donut or something?
Thermos: Right. That’d be suicide.
Kobe: You only live once…
(Kobe leaves the room, turns back for one last thing…)
Kobe: Yo, Lakers gonna go five hundred on this trip or what?
Thermos: Probably better.
(Kobe shuts the door)
Thermos: See, the only thing I look forward to at work is the non-related work stuff. Sports talk with Kobe, a donut from across the street, lunch and the Internet. Kobe, he loves his job and I wonder how it is to be him. He comes in everyday, treats his staff well, manages to talk to me every day about the Lakers and how he could have gone pro; the guy is a walking symbol of everything good in life… what does that make me.
(The door swings open and a Chinese man, in a suit and tie walks in.)
Mr. Wong: You eating?
Thermos: Not today.
(Mr. Wong strolls the office, looks around at the pictures and things as if he’s never seen it before. He stops at the motivation posters on the wall.)
Mr. Wong: Mr. Osbrink
(Mr. Wong nods his head as if thinking – approving – contemplating)
Mr. Wong: Courage… Dreams… Dreams and courage. You’re a good man, Mr. Osbrink. A good, man.
Thermos: (depressed) You too, David.
Mr. Wong: You okay?
Thermos: Yeah, fine. What about you?
Mr. Wong: I got visitors. Auditor from Texas.
Thermos: Need me to help?
Mr. Wong: Naw, this is my thing. Then vacation for a week. Lakers did good last night.
Thermos: You were right.
Mr. Wong: Like I said, Wong is RIGHT!
Thermos: Good luck with the audit, Mr. Wong.
Mr. Wong: Okay, see ya at lunch Mr. Osbrink.
(Mr. Wong leaves, still gazing around the office and nodding his head)
Thermos: See, the highlight of my day. Food and sports talk.
(The phone rings)
Thermos: Morning, this is Thermos…
(Thermos looks at the audience, covers the phone so the person can’t hear.)
Thermos: I refuse that the mornings are ‘good’ but am courteous enough to acknowledge what time of day it is.
(Back to phone call)
Thermos: Yeah, I sent the file yesterday.
(He taps some keys on the keyboard)
Thermos: It’s right here in my sent box. 3:30 PM. Sent. Well, I don’t know. You want me to send it again? Simone was “cc’d” on it so she has it too. I know you needed it at four that’s why I sent it at 3:30 PM.
(Thermos hits the ENTER key with authority)
Thermos: There. Sent… again. Get it? You don’t have to get upset. I re-
(Thermos fakes a laugh)
Thermos: Yeah, ha-ha-ha… it’s good to sort by date and not by subject – happens all the time.
(Thermos holds his hand over the mouthpiece and yells)
Thermos: That’s how you can tell I sent it at 3:30 PM you fuckin’ idiot!
(back to phone)
Thermos: Yeah, now you have two copies of the email…
(The door swings open. Thermos holds up his finger at Simone – an overweight Jewish Ethiopian girl in her late 20s)
Thermos: Okay… yeah… buh-bye.
(he slams the phone down)
Simone: You eating?
Thermos: Your boss is a fuckin’ idiot. I can’t stand these people in these positions of authority who can’t even figure out how to find an email. It’s fuckin’ ridiculous and something needs to be done about it.
Simone: Yeah, and? Are you eating?
Thermos: Not today. Busy.
Simone: Doing what?
Thermos: Blogging. I didn’t get three days worth of blogging done so today I figured I’d catch up.
Simone: I haven’t read your blog in a while. Anything new?
Thermos: I bought new shoes.
Simone: Wow. That’s interesting. The rest of the world will love to hear that.
Thermos: Leave please…
Simone: Want anything?
Thermos: A new life?
Simone: Who doesn’t?
(Kobe enters the office)
Kobe: You eat yet, Simone?
Simone: Nope. I’m starving.
Thermos: A starving, Jewish Ethiopian – there’s a joke in there somewhere.
Simone: Don’t say anything about my weight.
Kobe: That’s funny. A starving Jewish Ethiopian…
Simone: I’m not a practicing one though.
Thermos: Jew?
Simone: No, Ethiopian.
(Kobe closes the door to get a little privacy before speaking)
Kobe: What’s up with Mr. Wong?
Thermos: He’s got an auditor coming. Supposed to be here a week I heard.
(They make themselves comfortable in his office. Kobe kicks back on the empty chair while Simone leans on the door.)
Kobe: Yeah, he looks stressed.
Thermos: He didn’t look it to me.
Simone: I hate auditors.
Thermos: Why they didn’t do anything to you.
Simone: I just hate them.
Kobe: So, he got you pulling reports and shit for the audit?
Thermos: Nope. It’s all him he says.
Simone: What a nice guy.
Thermos: Yeah, it makes it hard for me to quit.
Simone: You want to quit?
Kobe: Girl, where have you been? The boy has wanted to quit before he even got paid.
Simone: You’ve been here for what, five… six years?
Thermos: Three long ass years.
Simone: That all? I always thought you liked your job.
Thermos: I took acting 101 in College.
Simone: So you want to be an actor?
Kobe: No ‘stuphis’… he is ‘acting’ -
Simone: Oh, I get it. Acting like you like your job. You’re so funny, Thermos… Sorry, I’m slow. I’m hungry!
Thermos: That’s okay. Maybe I’ll be an actor.
Kobe: And get paid the big bucks!
Thermos: That’ll be the day. Once I become debtless, I’ll quit which will be never.
Simone: It’s all relative anyway.
Kobe: Relative?
Simone: You know, you’re always in debt – a percentage of what you make. If you are making a ton of money, you’re in debt at the same level as someone who makes a quarter of what you make. It’s relative.
Kobe: Look at you. Ms. Relative.
Thermos: I think she’s right. Now can you eat so I can blog?
Simone: He’s catching up on three days worth of blogging?
Kobe: You and that blogging, shit. Play some online poker or something.
(Simone and Thermos shoot Kobe a look. Kobe lifts his hands in defense.)
Kobe: Not that I do it or anything because that would be totally wrong and abuse of company resources.)
Thermos: Shut up.
Kobe: So go on with your bad self and blog away. Anything new?
Simone: He bought some shoes.
Thermos: And I watched a movie the other night.
Kobe: Thanks, I want to read all about that movie. That is until Mr. Wong says, “Help – I need an analysis!”
Thermos: He’s too busy with the auditor.
Kobe: Oh, by the way, she’s got it goin’ on too.
Simone: The auditor?
Kobe: Yup!
Simone: See, more reason to hate her. A hot auditor.
Termos: Leave please!
(The two leave. Thermos turns to the computer and types.)
Thermos: Where was the world without blogging?
(He stands up – faces the audience)
Thermos: I blog every day. Well, I try at least. I sit here, in my office, with no purpose it seems, and I take out my frustration by letting the world wide web know how I feel: good, bad, ugly, suicidal. That is, if they actually read my rigmarole. It’s my futile attempt at keeping a journal, a diary, an open book diary at that. But, what is it really saying? What’s my point? What’s the ultimate goal of blogging?
(Thermos sits back down, starts typing as fast as anyone could possibly type when suddenly the door swings open and Kobe rushes in.)
Kobe: Thermos, Mr. Wong is dead!
(The lights cut – blackness – curtains fall)
ACT TWO
(AT RISE we see Thermos, Kobe and Simone looking down at the dead body of Mr. Wong. They are on the street.)
Simone: How can anyone just jump like that?
(Kobe looks up)
Thermos: What the hell was he thinking?
Kobe: I heard the auditor called him on some suspicious costs – and payments.
Simone: Things must be really bad for someone to just want to kill themselves.
Thermos: Payments?
Kobe: Yeah. Transactions.
Thermos: Embezzlement?
Simone: Something’s got to be seriously wrong with you if you can just decide to kill yourself at a drop of a hat.
Thermos: How much?
Simone: Does it matter? It was obviously enough for him. I mean, for him to get pushed off the edge, so-to-speak, and not face it was huge for him. Maybe for us not so big – like I said before, it’s all relative.
Thermos: The guy had it made. He was overworked, yeah, but he didn’t hate his job.
Kobe: You hate your job, why don’t you jump?
(Thermos looks up)
Thermos: I’m not as brave I guess.
Simone: You’re sick. What are you trying to say? Mr. Wong was brave?
Thermos: Believe me, I’ve thought about it. But I’ve been too scared to make the plunge.
Simone: Brave? He’s a coward.
Kobe: What-cha-talkin’ about, Simone?
Simone: He didn’t want to face the facts. He didn’t want to deal with what he needed to deal with. It was easier for him to lie and cheat instead of pulling off hard work for your money. And when he got caught, he ran – by way of suicide.
Thermos: Youre’ right… it’s all relative.
(Simone gives Thermos a look)
Kobe: I guess it’s how you look at it.
(Lights cut – blackness – curtains fall)
ACT THREE
(ON RISE, Thermos is back in his office.)
Thermos: See, it was one of those crappy days… depressing, frustrating, suicidal.
(He walks behind his desk)
Thermos: Is it? All relative though? Taking your life as a solution to your problems? I mean, how bad does it have to be before you’re pushed over the edge? And what keeps you going? What makes you jump off the edge of your windowsill, and what makes you turn back around?
(Thermos looks out the window then closes it shut)
Thermos: I can’t help but wonder; did Mr. Wong bounce?
(Thermos turns off his computer when the phone rings. Thermos reluctantly picks it up.)
Thermos: Evening.
(His mood immediately changes – he speaks into the phone, like a father would to his child.)
Thermos: Hi, baby. Whatcha doin’? I’ll be home soon. Old McDonald’s for dinner? Okay, I’ll get you Old McDonald’s. A Special Delivery from Daddy. Yeah… me too. I love you too. I’ll see you soon, okay. I know, I’ll drive safely, baby. Bye.
(He hangs up the phone. Grabs his briefcase and flings it over his shoulder. He takes his keys out of his pocket and grabs his coat from the coat rack. He reaches over to the light switch and before he turns it off…)
Thermos: What keeps you sitting on the edge and what makes you turn back around? It could be as simple as making sure to pick up a Happy Meal from “Old McDonald’s”. It’s those Special Deliveries that keep me doing what I’m doing. What keeps you doing what you’re doing?
(He shuts off the lights and the curtains fall.)
THE END
