Well, it’s been a busy two weeks, but it looks like my life is set to take on a semblance of order once again. I’m back in Barcelona, I’m back to teaching, and I’m reminded that I love it.
Still, I won’t waffle on about the events of the past two weeks, except to say that if you’re a teacher in Barcelona and your company needs an excellent, enthusiastic teacher for morning or afternoon classes, then I’m your man.
I was routing around through my old things, and I found “Toast”. Once upon a time, I used to be a bit of an amateur actor… with the emphasis on Hamateur. I also used to try and write plays. SO I’ve made a new category for my posts. I’ve called it “Stage“. Here, I’ll post anything theatrical I come up with, which will include any comedy I work on for my stand-up comedy routine.
I thought, to buy myself some more writing time, I’d post this little skit in pieces, one after the other. So, the tantalisingly short (and probably least funny) first part of Toast.
A kitchen with doors upstairs (Stage Left) and outside (Stage Right). There is a square table centre stage with 2 or 3 chairs around it, and a rectangular block/set of drawers front stage, slightly stage right, facing away from the audience, with a toaster and coffee machine, and 2 mugs on it There is another mug in the drawers below.. The block comes up to about chest height. Stage right, there is a set of high cupboards, containing cereals, bread, bowls, spoons, etc. breakfast things. A man staggers in, groaning, suffering from a headache. He walks slowly to the kettle, and starts to boil himself some water for a cup of coffee. Another man pokes his head round the side of the door slowly. Both men have messy hair and clothes, and sunken eyes, and at first, talking takes great concentration.
TOM: Make it two.
TOM: Two mugs.
He starts pouring.
TOM: No. Two mugs.
MIKE: I’ve got two mugs out.
TOM: Yeah, but I want two mugs, and you want one.
He staggers in.
TOM: After a night like that, I badly need some.
They stand in silence, one measuring out a large amount of coffee, the other staring at the kettle.
MIKE: What… what happened?
TOM: I can’t remember… there was a white toilet I seem to remember being sick in… or around…
MIKE: No, I mean, why were we drinking?
TOM (smiling): Wait, I’ve got a good line for this.
TOM: You know, you say that, and then I say something really witty back.
MIKE: Why were we drinking?
TOM: Because – No, I’ve forgotten it.
MIKE: Oh, what an anticlimax.
TOM: I thought you were in the shower, anyway.
MIKE: I thought you were.
TOM: I heard the water running.
MIKE: Oh, did we leave it running last night.
TOM: I… don’t think I had a shower.
MIKE: Me neither.
TOM (slowly, making sure he gets it right): To forget that we’ve got a drinking problem!
TOM: That’s the witty line!
MIKE: But I don’t have a drinking problem.
TOM: No, neither do I. Drinkings not the problem. It’s when to stop that I fall down. Or I fall down when I stop. One or the other.
MIKE: Tom! You’re jokes are bad enough when you’re sober! Don’t try my patience.
MIKE: So, who’s in the shower?
They listen. Silence.
TOM: No one.
MIKE: Good. That’s settled then.
TOM: But I heard it running a minute ago.
MIKE: I think I did too.
TOM: Maybe it was something else.
MIKE: Is it raining.
MIKE: Not that then.
A beautiful girl, wrapped revealingly in a tight dressing gown, walks in. Her hair is wet.
GIRL: I feel much better now. Nothing like a shower to clear your head in the morning.
Tom and Mike stand in silence looking at her.
GIRL: What’s wrong with you two? Oh. I see you’re making me a cup of coffee (seeing the three cups), but no thanks, I’ll be fine. I’ll be back in a minute, I’m just going to dry my hair.
MIKE (recovering): Err… don’t worry, I’ll drink it.
She has left. They have both woken up now, and start to get breakfast things out of various cupboards.
TOM: Drink what?
MIKE: The coffee.
TOM: But you were going to anyway.
MIKE: Yes but – who is she? Where did you find her, and why didn’t you tell me?
TOM: I was about to ask you that too.
MIKE: You mean you didn’t bring her back?
TOM: Then you must have. She can’t have just broken in.
MIKE: A night of pleasure, and I’ve completely forgotten it! I don’t think so.
TOM: You probably fell asleep!
MIKE: YOU did! I’ve never seen her before!
GIRL (re-entering): Seen who before?
MIKE: Erm, that old lady outside.
TOM: Mike’s a bit paranoid about, er, people breaking in, and things.
GIRL: Oh. For a minute I’d thought you’d forgotten who I am. (jokily) You were very drunk at the time.
TOGETHER (insistent): No! I , er we, er I haven’t forgotten! No!
GIRL: Good. You’re obviously better at holding your drink than I thought.
Silence, as she combs back her hair, and gets some cereal.
MIKE: Er… yeah… I’ve just got to go and get dressed.
TOM: Me too.
GIRL: But you haven’t finished your coffee!
TOM: It can wait.
MIKE: I prefer it cold.
They walk offstage hurriedly together.