Songs for Waiters: a Lyrical Play in Two Acts

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SONGS FOR WAITERS: A LYRICAL PLAY IN TWO ACTS

Thesis

Submitted to

The College of Arts and Sciences of the

UNIVERSITY OF DAYTON

In Partial Fulfillment for the Requirements for

The Degree of

Master of Arts in English

Andrew Eberly

Dayton, Ohio

May, 2012

SONGS FOR WAITERS: A LYRICAL PLAY IN TWO ACTS

Name: Eberly, Andrew M.

APPROVED BY:

______Albino Carillo, M.F.A. Faculty Advisor

______John P. McCombe, Ph.D. Faculty Reader

______Andrew Slade, Ph.D. Faculty Reader

ABSTRACT

SONGS FOR WAITERS: A LYRICAL PLAY IN TWO ACTS

Name: Eberly, Andrew M. University of Dayton

Advisor: Albino Carillo, M.F.A.

Through the creative mediums of lyrical poetry, monologues, and traditional dramatic scenes, Songs for Waiters concerns an owner and two employees at an urban bar/restaurant. Through their work, their interactions with the public and each other, and reflecting on their own lives, the three men unpack contemporary debates on work, violence, and sexuality. The use of lyrical poetry introduces the possibility of these portions of the play being put to music in a performance setting, as the play is written to be workshopped and performed live in the future.

iii

TABLE OF CONTENTS

ABSTRACT……………………………………………………………….…………..…iii

ACT I…………………………………………………………………………...…………1

ACT II……………………………………………………………………………………35

ACT I

The play begins with no actors onstage. The set consists of café tables upstage right and left and a bar upstage center. The décor is that of a classic bar with some history. The bar is George’s—known for good food. It’s independent, casual, eclectic, open late, and located on High Street in Columbus, Ohio.

The lights are dim. The audience hears snippets of music on the empty set interrupted with the characters’ voiceovers complaining about the current song before promptly changing the music. The staff is having their normal battle over the music for the

Saturday night shift at George’s. The audience overhears the three characters, as if the staff were in the kitchen, offstage. The tone should be comical, as though these guys are making fun of each other’s music, but making fun of each other in a familial way.

*Note: All song titles can be updated by director/designers in order to make the music as contemporary as possible. Whatever the genre, these men love music and would know what is current.

An American Roots song comes on (Wilco)

Reg/voiceover: Oh hell no.

Music skips to rap, something aggressive. (Lupe Fiasco)

George/voiceover: It’s too early to be getting yelled at son.

1 Music skips to a Tin Pan Alley instrumental or a contemporary musical theatre song

Trenton/voiceover: Oh c’mon George. Are you trying to scare the cool people from coming in tonight?

Music skips to contemporary rock (Jack White)

Reg/voiceover: Somebody needs to tell that bitch to stop screaming.

Music and lights dim and the audience hears a couple more changes of music. Lights come back up and it’s now Saturday night at George’s. The tables are full and the audience consists of the guests who are waiting for available tables.

REG appears… speaking to a specific table upstage…(perhaps each night a few audience members are seated onstage [company members, community personalities, fellow theatre artists from the community]). Reg has an old school Brooklyn baseball cap on, a

“George’s” t-shirt and some sneakers. He has a quick tongue, a quick smile, and acts ridiculously confident, though he is somehow more endearing than obnoxious.

REG: (to a table) Alright, so I got a veggie burger on wheat w/ provolone, no pickle, side of fries, another Brooklyn Brown, and a falafel, extra tahini, no tomato, sub small house for the fries, no tomato, light balsamic on the side. Iced Tea. No. Sorry. Yeah. Sure. No.

Cool.

(Faces audience) I wanted to be like, “I get it. You don’t like tomatoes, damn.” But I held my tongue. It’s gonna be a long Saturday and I’ve been practically living here this

2 week. I don’t need no extra shit. She looked like the type that could get fussy real quick, have you running for “extra side this” and “fresh lemon that.” A pretty little pain in the ass, know what I mean? Ya’ll, I’m begging. Take a moment when your waiter stops by.

Add up all your little needy requests, then give me the list, and I’ll go hook you up.

Anyway, “No tomato” over there will be just fine. Her man though…hoooo. Dark skin, nice little waist, looking all cute in his jacket. I wouldn’t kick him offa no futon, you understand? What? I hit on my customers all the time. I don’t give a fuck. It’s Columbus, baby, you never know. And I’ve got some stories, but that’s for another time. Pops keeps telling me he’s gonna pull me off of the floor and send me back to washing dishes, but that ain’t about to happen. People askin’ to sit in my section all the time. Everybody be comin’ to George’s. We keep it real, downtown. Shit. Anyways we on about a 25 minute wait, so make sure we got your name and we’ll do our best. You tell ‘em you want to be sat in Reg’s section. I’ll take care of you. (Eyes someone in the audience) I can definitely take care of you. (To the audience in general) What? You never know.

(Music becomes audible … something folksy, downbeat, sensitive [Bon Iver])

Aw man turn that shit off. Damn. Ever since that lil’ bitch Jeremy starting workin’ lunches, he keeps slipping this shit into all the playlists. These fuckin’ bands of the month he always reading about on those stupid music blogs. Man by the time he plays it a couple of times, and somehow, miraculously, some other customer actually starts to like this shit… it’s gone, he doesn’t want to play it no more. It’s like, as soon as someone else knows about it, all the sudden it’s the worst track in the world because somebody

3 less cool had the nerve to like it too. Dude doesn’t even like music; he just like rents for a little while. I hate this shit: 10,000 strummy fuckin’ songs about people leavin’.

People been leavin’ me my whole life and I just say “fuck ‘em.” They should let me make the playlists exclusively for dinner. Exclusively. Heads would be nodding. I promise you that.

(Back to previous table with the couple) Man, we outta Brooklyn Brown. I guess you musta drank it all. (openly flirting) Just playin’. I’m sorry. Yeah. Yeah. No. Cool.

(Looks at audience, mischievous smile).

(To Audience) Where was I? Oh yeah. Man, I’m telling you I could set this place up track for track. Someday I’m a run this joint.

As he says this last line Reg steps on a repeat pedal that is located conveniently under one of the tables. The line “Someday I’m a run this joint” repeats quietly on loop as there is a slow lighting change.

“About to Change That”

Reg will rap the first section a capella. There is a gradual transformation from Reg as a waiter fooling around, free-styling to a full-on rap star fantasy concert.

I’m calling a recall on how we divide up the power

You fat cat salaried, I’m fuckin’ paid by the hour

Plus tips, but don’t trip, one day I’ll rule the nation

And until then you’re flippin’ to my radio station

W-REG, Reg serving up delicious

Hot treats and rock beats, cat you can bring the Mrs.

4 The party goes my way, and the party’s got my tracks

Ya’ll some big beats? I got my band in the back. GO!

(Live band drops a big drum beat, and Reg is in full out fantasy performance)

That’s right, band’s live, gonna keep things straight up

B Hat like Chuck D, oh shit, wait up

Step to Reg wrong way son, you get laid up

Downtown C-Bus you served right, you paid up

And I’m owning your headphones on a permanent basis

Listen to my thesis, boy you just call me Oasis

Now some might say, “Is this kid serious?”

And some might say, “Oh no, he looks queer to us”

And still some might say “his beats got me delirious”

B, here comes the hook, rhyme skills furious

Chorus Hook:

Right now I’m fetching, making your night better

Servin’ High Street, call me the town’s trend setter

Right now you’re thinking, I get shoved around

If the push comes, then I’ll back away and look down

And I want ya’ll to make that mistake, go head, buy the ticket

You ain’t seen me dominate yet; I’m about to kick it

So call the news, call the mayor, and call your dad

You ain’t seen strength but I’m about to change that

I’m about to change that.

5 Verse Two:

Stand up to me eye to eye, this ain’t a test

I’m about to hit your mind, reach in your chest

Thump, thump, thump, poundin’ goes below your belt

Vegas, Blackjack, sit back I got your hand dealt

Back to point, I’m on a fuckin’mission

I’m a change this whole culture. Quiet knucklehead, listen.

I work through and take my cues from Public Enemy

Don’t care if you say, “Reg, he offended me.”

P.E. more twenty years ago said, “Hell No”

Our revolution’s out the gate, “C’mon, let’s go”

Angry big voices told the citizens “Now”

In every city kids learned to walk proud

Cause they had the strength and the will to bust this

And today, the gay kids afraid, getting fucked with

So I got tired, and gave myself the job of Mr. Justice

I ain’t saying I’ll bring violence, but bitch trust this

Step to me with hate and names? And shit’s on

Left and right to your pretty face, won’t take long

Maybe a knee in your chest, for good measure

Come bashing again, I’ll hunt your head like it’s my treasure

For years we thought we’d do this revolution politely

Educate and tolerate that’s nice but they fight me

6 Maybe cause they think I ain’t fighting back

Maybe cause they think I ain’t one to attack

Maybe cause they think I’ll fold like a doormat

…See I’m about to the change that

Chorus:

Right now I’m fetching, making your night better

Servin’ High Street, call me the town’s trend setter

Right now you’re thinking, I get shoved around

If the push comes, then I’ll back away and look down

And I want ya’ll to make that mistake, go head, buy the ticket

You ain’t seen me dominate yet; I’m about to kick it

So call the news, call the mayor, and call your dad

You ain’t seen strength but I’m about to change that

I’m about to change that.

Might sound crazy; just call me your protector

What you do in private, call me your public sector

All this gonna break when they come for the downtown

Weren’t anticipatin’ me, “Oh Shit” they shocked now

Ain’t surprising to me, I’ve known this for a long time

If you pick ignorance now, you picked the wrong time

I’m gonna be who I want, say what I want, act and stand, and fuck who I want

Head up

Straight ahead

7 Beat goes on

Old ways dead

You’re still sitting in you chair, wondering where my fears at

You don’t see strength…

But I’m about to change that

Yes, I’m about to change that

Reg exits as drums, bass, and keys continue, then fade

TRENTON appears. He wears a classic white plain, t-shirt, jeans, and has a clean-cut face and short-cropped hair. Short but athletic, he’s a nice Midwestern kid. Like Reg,

Trenton is 22 years old. He’s friendly and a little nervous.

TRENTON: Sorry about the wait, folks. We got some tables that are gonna be opening up real soon. Thanks for your patience. Nice night out, huh?

(To a table) So you got a chance to look over the beer list? We’ve got some really good stuff on there: something for everybody. Pinot Noir? Yeah, I think we only have one kind of that so. Oh sorry, you’re right. So, a bottle? The Berringer? No, I haven’t had it, sorry. Coming right up.

(To the audience) Still getting the hang of the wine thing. I hate opening up the bottle at a table. My hand always shakes and the corkscrew feels like it’s going to break the bottle all over the place. I feel like an idiot. I was trying to sell the beer. I can at least have a

8 decent conversation about that. I mean, we get some local brews in here that are pretty cool. We’ve got “CBC.” We’ve got “Great Lakes” from Cleveland. Some people aren’t into that. They want their Miller Lite. I get it. I mean, we drink Natty Light back at home, so I can’t really get too opinionated about it, you know what I mean? George says

I just have to remember to look like I know what I’m doing, and then one day soon, I will know what I’m doing: “fake it ’til you make it” he says.

I’ve only been in Columbus for about six months. My cousin has an apartment in

Victorian Village, and she’s letting me stay on her couch for a while. I had to start making money, so I ended up at George’s. I’ve never served before. (beat) Could you tell? I guess I came to Columbus for the music. Great scene. Supposed to be one of the best. Probably every city says that. I try to get out to as many shows as I can. There are a lot of places to play here. Still trying to find my band though. Late start, I guess. My music? Oh, it’s kind of an indie folk thing. I don’t know. I kinda hate that “What does your music sound like” question. I’ll figure it out. I just need to meet some good people.

Workin’ here has helped: a lot of musicians in and out. In fact, I met these guys last week. They’re in a couple of different bands, and they’re roommates. One plays bass, the other drums. They have some practice space up in Clintonville, and they’re supposed to come pick me up after work tonight if it’s not too late. We’re gonna play awhile and see if there’s anything there. They seem like cool guys. My cousin has introduced me to a bunch of new people. She seems to know everybody. Meeting people has been pretty easy. Meeting people that you’ll want as your friends is a little trickier. My cousin Jackie designs clothes…or at least she talks a lot about designing clothes. She went to the art

9 college downtown. She’s kind of down on Columbus. At least two mornings a week, she’s online, trying to figure out a way to move to Brooklyn. I guess, she’s tired of it or whatever, but when you grow up in Piqua, Ohio, Columbus is kind of a big deal. People back home actually think I live in the big city…perspective I guess. People who grew up here need to get out of here, while people from all these small Ohio towns can’t wait to get here. I’ve been coming over here since I was little, so I always thought I might end up here after high school. It always seemed big to me. My uncle works for Ohio State, and he used to get me and my dad tickets to see the Buckeyes when I was little. We’d come over here really early in the morning and walk around and see all the people out. We’d find our way to a couple of tailgate parties. Dad used to let me have all the chicken sandwiches I could eat, and then as I got older, he would let me have some of his beer. It tasted good on a fall Ohio afternoon. I can’t remember if it was Natty Light.

Me? Yeah I played. I know, kinda small, but I could run. People think a musician would never have been a high school athlete, but it’s a dumb stereotype. We always listened to good music in the locker room and on bus trips. Really, learning guitar and writing has a lot to do with the same things we learned in football: practice and discipline, patience. I played some free safety, mostly special teams. I wasn’t really a big deal, but hell yeah, our team was good. (old high school cheer) “P-I-Q, P-I-Q, P-I-QUA.” (Laughs at himself for getting carried away) I did that one night after closing and we were all hanging out around the restaurant. What was it Reg said to me? Oh yeah, “Shut your ’lil bitch ass up.”

Reg loves that phrase. Everybody’s a “ ’lil bitch” to Reg. A couple of guys from my team went D-1. Our Friday nights were crazy. A couple thousand usually came out for a game. Then there was the Piqua-Troy game. My junior year, we were both undefeated,

10 state ranked, and there was like 9000 people there under the lights. (Pause…decides whether it would be cool or not to continue the story. He’s on unfamiliar ground. He gives in) I had an interception that night. (He can’t help himself anymore and decides to act out his story) 3rd down and 8, couple of minutes before halftime. I was in to give our starter a breather. Defensive coach told me to just shut it down and get us into the locker room. I dropped back into slot coverage, and could see the quarterback’s eyes. I started to pull toward the middle and then split back and broke for the ball, just as his throwing motion came up to his ear…full body extension, finger tip grab, and then they guys were all around me…the place was going nuts. We ended up winning by six and going to state that year. Coolest night of my life. (beat) No, I mean it was really cool. Amazing.

But the night really belonged to Sean. Dude, he was like a legend in my town. He ran for

210 that night, which was actually about what he averaged that year. Once Sean got a step around the edge on you, man, he was gone. Sean Mitchell: best football player I’ve ever known. Damn. I have no idea what he’s doing now. I know he was gonna start at some junior college in Kansas, but I heard it didn’t really work out. You know, for those

15 weeks in the fall back home, everyone would always ask me so many questions about the future: “What’s next week gonna be like?” or “I heard they’re big and fast, what are you guys gonna do?” “Is Mitchell’s knee gonna be okay for Friday?” After the season was over, I don’t remember anyone asking me any questions at all. No one ever said,

“What are you going to do after football?” It’s not like any of us were going to go pro. I guess they didn’t really care. Anyways. I started this song. Do you mind if… No, that would lame wouldn’t it? Alright I’ll just play a little of it. I gotta get used to playing in

11 front of people. I haven’t really done that much. It’s pretty straight forward. Let me know if you think it’s too hicksville or whatever:

(Trenton gets a guitar)

“Give Mitchell the Ball”

There were pretty girls, dressed red, blue, and white.

The smell of sweat and hope drenched the autumn night.

And the band goes … la, la, la

And the girls go…la, la, la

(BAND KICKS IN)

We gave Mitchell the ball, we all win.

There’ll be weddings, drinks, and your house to pay for

But this Friday night, your proud town you play for

We gave Mitchell the ball, we all win.

It begins, we’re running in, they call my last name

Your parents out, young kids shout, we all want the same

And the band goes … la, la, la

And the girls go…la, la, la

We gave Mitchell the ball, we all win

12 There’ll be weddings, drinks, and your house to pay for

But this Friday night, your proud town you play for

We gave Mitchell the ball, we all win.

We all win.

And they’ll never care again like they do now

Trenton finishes the song. He’s unsure what kind of effect it’s had on the audience. He gives an unsure nod or shoulder shrug, then quickly exits.

George appears. He’s a young at heart 48 year-old bar/restaurant owner. He wears glasses, maybe has an apron on. This is his place and he’s the consummate host.

GEORGE: (Big Smile) Hey, welcome to George’s. I’m George. Sorry about the noise.

These kids and the volume. I tell ’em all the time about dynamics, subtlety, jeez. They’re so abrasive. Make sure you think about the special. We only have a few left…vegetarian corndogs…with spicy mustard. We should have a table for you in just a second. Oh you already talked to one of the boys! The sweet young kid, or my son? Apologies. We’re working on it. If you knew how far he’d come already. We normally try to keep him away from … anyone else, but we’ve been short staffed this summer. Yes. Yes. No. Yes.

Cool. Tell you what, let me see about that table, and then we’ll take a look at some appetizers…on me. We want you to leave happy and planning your next night out with

13 us…especially a nice young family from Columbus like yourselves. We love kids here at

George’s.

REG/voiceover: (from the kitchen) Man I ain’t waiting on no fuckin’ kids. Trent, you’re taking that table.

GEORGE: I remember when my Reg was just a little guy. Me and his dad would take him over to Frisch’s over near Morse Road. I know, weird right? Frisch’s! But Ronnie loved their strawberry shakes. Ronnie was Reg’s other dad. We’d go to Frisch’s for dinner on Sunday evenings, the only time George’s is closed. It was our family night. I would choke down a “fresh” salad while Ronnie and Reg would gobble up dinner rolls, chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy; then we’d go home and watch the Sunday night

NFL game. Reg would usually fell asleep in between us. Ronnie was a huge Cleveland

Browns fan. They had given him a tryout back in the day. He never actually made it past the practice squad, but he said the Browns were fair and honest, and we rooted for ’em ever since. I still check the Monday Dispatch to see how the Browns did over the weekend. That’s not been going so well lately. But I don’t watch too many football games since Ronnie passed. Heart attack. But in his prime, my Ronnie could play. That’s right. Eat your heart out girls, I married myself a Buckeye. Ronnie played outside linebacker in the early 80’s –honorable mention All Big 10. We met at a little restaurant on High in the old south part of campus. I think it’s a smoothie shop now or something ridiculous. I was his waiter…he was so beautiful and so … where the hell was I?

14 So we’d be hanging out on Sunday’s, watching these pro games. Ronnie would be yelling at the television. You know how some guys think the players can hear them, so they’re shouting out directions: “Get him” or “Where’s the rush?” Whatever. But when football season was over, and I swear it went on for fucking ever, but once football season was over, we’d watch something a little more up my alley…the Sunday night musical classics on TNT! Now that is proper Sunday night entertainment. Singin’ in the

Rain was our favorite. Reg still knows all the words, but he’d never admit it. That was the best one: those soaring melodies, the costumes, Gene Kelly and his amazing athletic, dancing. They don’t make ’em like that anymore. No they don’t.

Oh my God, you wanna do a number? We could! I mean, is there really something unrealistic about breaking into song in the middle of a crowded restaurant? We’re not afraid of a little magic, are we? Yeah? This is going to be so fun. The boys will lose their minds. They keep saying we’re going to lose our credibility here, whatever the hell that means. If my customers are too cool for a little show tune every once in a while, fuck

’em. Haha, I shouldn’t cuss. I always say, “I’ve been here 19 years. Fashions will come and go.” Besides, Columbus has been so good to me. Columbus has been good to you too, no? I mean, who woulda thought, right?

“This Town Will Love You”

(Piano starts to vamps)

The food is hot.

We’re open late.

15 Like Papa said,

Better clean your plate.

Don’t worry, just ignore my mouthy son, (he’s young)

Remember all that anger from your 20’s (no fun)

When you come to George’s, forget worries (they’re done)

A bottle of beer and a veggie sandwich (and you’ve won)

A night with us…

And I know…

All the smiles from the music… of show!

This town will love you!

It’s been loving me for years.

This town will love you!

You never thought you’d settle here

You came in for college, thought you’d have some laughs, be on your way

You didn’t gain much knowledge, but life’s a gas, why not stay?

You found yourself a decent job. You even met the one

You used to talk of moving on. But now, the packing’s done.

This town will love you!

It’s been loving me for years.

This town will love you

Black, white, straight or queer

16 (Music breaks into a complete tempo shift. George eats it up. He’s completely onstage)

We got so many queers

I mean really so many queers:

Lesbians from Ashtabula, Opera Queens from Chagrin Falls

Future drag queens just in from Dublin

Runnin’ fast from suburban sprawl

Big ’ole bears from Toledo, feelin’ exiled no more

Softball all-stars from Cincinnati just plain runnin’ up the score

Eaton, Dayton, Kenton, go ahead, give us your weary

Parma, Hudson, heading south, hitching rides, and nearly

Everyone who visits, leaves a part of their heart here

We even got a couple gay farmers from Amish Country last year

I welcomed them to their new home, they were soon dancing in the street

They wanted friends, I said come to George’s, I got some folks for you to meet

Troubled kids from Vinton County, we got them the help they need

And then there’s little me from Tipp City, c’mon boys, just follow my simple lead…

(Music changes to a big, musical number-type finale…think “If I can make it there...”)

This town will love you.

It’s been lovin’ me for years

And when it loves you.

You won’t be leaving here

So find your corner

Of the city, make it yours

17 And we will see you

On that sunny June Saturday…

Marching down Old

High

Street!

(George bows and exits…Reg enters)

REG: Don’t go confusing my dad for a stereotype. I mean dad likes to be light hearted and fun and his musical selections are right down the old queer alley, but he can throw down. You should see him handle a couple of people getting mouthy cause maybe they had too much to drink. Pops’ll get right in their faces and toss ’em out on the sidewalk, quick. People respect him. My other dad definitely didn’t take no shit. He died when I was 14. Ronnie Tavers, you heard of him? Big fuckin’ black man with long, thick arms…taught me to be tough. That’s where I got hip-hop from. I used to listen to all his old records: Chuck D, Big Daddy Kane, Eric B & Rakim, nobody was gonna fuck with those guys. Later, there was Ice Cube, Dr. Dre. You could hear the anger in their voices, that style, that confidence, but most of all strength and pride. The black kids at my school growing up, they all found hip-hop…most of the white kids found it too. How could you not feel powerful listening to Tupac? It gave you a little swagger, no matter where you lived, just like a football player, like a hero for kids. Who do gay kids have? Where do they get that sense of power? I mean they could use a little “fuck you” right? Shit, I mean, when I was coming out in high school, my dad George used to get me all these tapes from the downtown library. He said it was a good idea to hear other stories and see

18 others like me. Man, did that shit backfire. I felt completely worse after watching them.

Like 8 movies all with some skinny, weak, white boy, all depressed and shit, getting beat up at school, walking around apologizing to everyone, worrying about his parents hating him … what a disservice. Why does everyone love that story? You can keep that shit.

Ya’ll wanna hear my movie idea? I’m gonna make it someday too, you can bank on it.

Don’t worry, I’ll remember where I come from when I’m all famous and shit.

Picture it: Columbus West High School, four or five popular guys sittin’ around a lunchroom table, cracking jokes, clownin’. All of sudden, somebody that looks a lot like me (you know, all handsome and shit) walks right up to ’em, pounds the lunch table (Reg does this on one of the restaurant tables, as he’s acting out his imaginary movie scene)

Yo, it’s been going around school that I’m gay. It’s fuckin’ true, and if any one of you

Jonas Brothers lookin’ muthafuckas got a problem with that, let’s do this shit now, cause

I ain’t about to let any of you mess with me.” Look ’em in the eye. Pause, Pause, Pause

… nothing. Then for like good measure, I take one of their slices of pizza right offa their tray and “cool” … (back to the audience) Isn’t that awesome? I know, right, the pizza take is the best part (he acts that part out again) “cool” … that shit is dope. What little gay guy wouldn’t want to see that fuckin’ movie? Gonna revolutionize this old, coming- out genre. Ya’ll heard it here first.

Reg is getting carried away. Trenton appears suddenly and cuts off Reg’s movie fantasy, as if he was embarrassed by it…

19 TRENTON: Jesus Reg. These people just want to get a bite to eat. Let me guess, you’re going on about how gay people deserve the right to get married, right? Or, wait how gay people are so used to being second-class citizens, they don’t even think to stand up for themselves anymore. Or how the media misrepresents you every chance they get. Man, it’s always the same with you Reg. This is Columbus. People are cool here and you just keep dragging the same stuff around time after time.

REG: (laying on the sarcasm) Time after time? Wait, you gonna add some Cyndi Lauper to the playlist now? I’m sorry, am I bothering you? Am I stressing you out? It must be stressful being a straight white man, I’m sorry.

TRENTON: Why do you have to be so angry all the time?

REG: Who else is going to do it? Everybody else is at fuckin’ IKEA buying lampshades and shit.

TRENTON: I’m just saying, people would accept you more if you weren’t constantly going on and on about it…relax.

REG: Don’t you see how fuckin’ ridiculous it is that people like me keep looking at people like you for some sort of acceptance. Like we have to ask for something. Did you have to ask for basic rights, and say “please?” The very idea that our country votes on this shit is so stupid, like we have to convince the people in power to allow us to live our lives. Fuck that. We’re so fucking comfortable playing the role of the powerless …

“please accept us,” “love us”…fuck that.

TRENTON: So you’re taking the mature route. That is sure to make some change.

REG: Man, get the fuck outta here. Bet your food’s up for table seven over there…hop to it skippy.

20 TRENTON: Table seven’s yours. Man you’re always getting the tables confused. I took three, you took six; I took one…seven’s yours.

REG: Shit, maybe if you were takin’ turns the right way like we are supposed to do. I know your hustle. You think I’m stupid? You get real creative so you make sure you get all the four tops and the regulars, then all the two-tops and cheap lookin’ muthafuckas just magically happen to be my tables. Don’t think I’m gonna be putting up with this shit for long.

TRENTON: You can’t even handle a big table…getting their drinks all confused and forgetting their sides. How many complaints did you have last week alone?

REG: Fuck you

TRENTON: Fuck you back

REG: Look, it’s late on a Saturday. We’re still busy. Why don’t you go check on something and get your hicktown, junior varsity, prom king, county fair lookin’ dumbass outta here before I lose my temper, billyboy.

TRENTON: Aw man, you really think I am afraid of you? Fuckin’ b-boy talkin’, homo- preacher for President? Go on back to second grade and learn how to count, cause table fuckin’ seven is yours, Nancy.

REG: (Pause…Reg laughs first, then they both crack up)...ahhh, alright. You’re alright.

You listen to some seriously shitty music, but you’re alright… “b-boy talkin’, homo- preacher” I’m gonna steal that shit for one of my songs. “Nancy?” that’s some old school shit, where’d you get that from?

TRENTON: (smiling) I listen to your dad. Man, he says some funny shit. You know how he always keeps his cool, no matter what? So, every once in a great while, it’s like “look

21 out.” The other night, he was his usual smiling self, and then right when he crossed that line back into the kitchen, he was like, “would someone tell Nancy 1 and Nancy 2 that I can’t look at one more fuckin’ picture of their dog.” The whole kitchen just lost it.

George has been good to me. He gave me decent weekend shifts, even though he knew I didn’t have serving experience.

REG: He likes you. (Smiles) I have no fuckin’ clue as to why. Says you’re a hard worker, and unlike a lot of people who apply here, you don’t try to act like you already know everything. He hates that.

TRENTON: My dad was a know-it-all. So, I know better.

REG: What does your dad think of you working at George’s? He probably expected you to go to college, right?

TRENTON: I couldn’t possibly care less. He sees me about twice a year. For his mid-life crisis, when I was 16, he took off with some real estate agent girl who was like a week older than me. I’m pretty sure he has very little opinion about what I do with my life. But

I won’t turn out like him. Fucking cliché, right? I mean, 38 years old, he couldn’t just join a gym, or try some ridiculous facial hair? No, he left. He cut the whole chord.

REG: Sorry man (Big awkward pause, then recovery) Speaking of gyms, you might wanna consider a plan yourself, because, just keeping it real, you’ve looked better.

(Another pause) Oh don’t worry kid, contrary to what a lot of dudes seem to think, the mere fact that you exist is not enough to send me home at night dreaming of getting with you.

TRENTON: (Teasing) You’d totally get with me.

REG: Maybe if you jogged a couple blocks or something.

22 TRENTON: Seriously man, you know I’ve never thought of you like that.

REG: Look, that sucks about your dad, but it’s just another small town marriage that ends because someone gets tired of it, and yet these are the same people that when it’s time to vote.

TRENTON: (cuts him off) Reg, for the love of God, I know. You’re my big old gay friend and I promise to vote for your right to a big old gay wedding next time it’s on the ballot.

REG: You better, bitch (Laughs) Alright dude, I am going to check on table seven. I guess it’s mine and you might be right about this one, but don’t go and start getting a big head. Oh shit, did you see who grabbed table two?

TRENTON: (excited and nervous) Art School?

REG: She’s back and you better talk to her this time, cause she’s alone…again. C’mon

Trent. Make a brother proud.

Reg exits, Trenton is left alone on stage.

TRENTON: (a smile, worry, and excitement all at once) She’s back, and I’m not even sure I want her to be, but whatdoyaknow? She’s always by herself. She always just gets a coffee, and our coffee ain’t even that good. She’s always reading some art book, and she dresses all hip and shit. She’s beautiful and I’m scared to death of her. Seriously, who comes to a bar to drink coffee, read, and stare? She stares directly at whoever or as long as she wants. She doesn’t even pull away if you look her in the eye...We don’t have girls like that back home.

23 “The Obvious”

So it’s a double shift, the special’s out, there’s no waitlist

Wind is coming in off the street

I’ve been here six months, work four at night, work three at lunch

It pays the rent, pays my late nights for me

You want a fresh coffee? No sugar, you take cream

You been coming in for awhile

Is it better here than home, Is it better than alone

We can get you caffeine, nice smile...

Chorus:

Now it’s so, obvious

You came to break

All the hearts

I see you lookin’ round, and one of those looks is for me

And the tips they’re slow tonight, so let me be

Verse 2

I’m learning beer lists, cause I wasn’t meant for college

I pick up the facts as I go

Soon at two weeks end, everybody here was my best friend

Except for cutie in the corner, man, I don’t know

I’m never afraid to talk but there’s something about her walk

So I do my job with my head down today

She just sits with her cup, I think well that’s my luck

24 I’d probably just bore her anyway

Chorus:

Now it’s so, obvious

You came to break

All the hearts

I see you lookin’ round, and one of those looks is for me

And the tips they’re slow tonight, so let me be

Bridge:

I get off in two hours but you are going straight home

I know your kind

I get off in two hours but you are going straight home

I know your kind

If I woulda caught you on a night good and lonely

I’d be waking up on your floor, I’d be searching for my keys

So I get off in two hours and you are going straight home

I know your kind

Chorus:

Now it’s so, obvious

You came to break

All the hearts

I see you lookin’ round, and one of those looks is for me

And the tips they’re slow tonight, so let me be

25 Trenton exits and the lights dim as the music fades. Some of the “patrons” at the restaurant could be ushered to a seat in the proper audience to show the night getting on.

George re-enters. He is wiping up the tables, and generally straightening up. Business is starting to wind down.

GEORGE: Cute kid. He doesn’t stand a chance with art school. That girl will steamroll him. Trenton’s still trying to figure out who he is and that can take a while. When he mentioned at his interview that he used to play football, I almost fell out of my chair. He just seemed kind of small and too polite or something. But he’s here in Columbus now and ready for his real education. I’ve seen it a million times with athletes. Hell, some of

Ronnie’s old friends from his playing days still have no idea who the hell they are. It’s kind of easy when you’re a football player growing up in Ohio. That’s who you are, and that’s pretty easy to figure out. People in every town across the state respect that, so the kid feels pretty good about himself. Take away the football part and they actually have to become somebody. Trenton will be alright. So many choices for these kids today about who they’re going to be. I remember those years. I tried a few quarters at community college, but it wasn’t for me. Back then you could choose to not go to college and you didn’t necessarily feel like your life was going nowhere. I never felt that way. I always knew I would land on my feet.

(Back upstage to a table, smiles) Yeah, we’re still serving, what can I get you guys?

Veggie burger on Kaiser w/ the works, Boston Lager, side salad, Italian dressing, and for you, Deluxe baked potato, broccoli, cheese, onion, and a side of tomato soup? Sam

26 Adams Light to drink. Good choices! We will get that right out to you, and thanks again for joining us tonight.

(To audience) So I started serving at this little place on campus called Charlie’s and I loved it. I was a natural. Manager started giving me the big sections on the big nights. I started getting some regulars. People would walk in the door and ask for me. That had never really happened to me before. It wasn’t “you’re okay” or “you’re fine,” it was “we want you.” People always think serving is something you do on your way to something else. And for a lot of the kids I’ve hired over the years, it is. I’ve had so many people ask me while I was serving them what my “real job” was. Hey, I’ve told Reg a hundred times, “everybody’s selling something…make it something you have some affection for, some respect for and you’ll do alright.” Anyone ever ask the guy selling insurance or the lady at the car lot what their “real job” was? I don’t have any interest in that stuff…but a steaming vegetarian sandwich with melted cheese, a cold pint of beer, some conversation and a few laughs with your friends and family? I got a lot of affection for those things.

Long story, no? Let me speed it up honey, we’re closing soon. So there I was at

Charlie’s. It was a packed Sunday breakfast shift, getting kind of late. They call that shift brunch now, so people don’t feel bad about drinking cocktails with their omlettes.

“Big Things Happen”

Piano vamps. George starts in a musical theatre patter

I was working another weekend shift

And I was trying to keep my cool

I had found my little niche

27 And had dropped right out of school

And then, just then, these giant men came in

Wearing matching jackets of scarlet and gray

One looked smart

One was hairy

One was bald

And one was scary

I was tired and I sighed

And rearranged my fake smile

“Hello. The O.J. is fresh, and is there anything I can get you?”

They mumbled, I think one snorted, and then they ordered half the menu

And then they ran me. I mean they ran me. I was killing myself for these guys

The cook ran up to me and said, “My God, it’s the first string Buckeyes”

I rolled my eyes: “Don’t care if it’s Tina Turner,” I’m going crazy

And then this hunk finished his hash browns, looked me in the eyes.

And I swear, I swear, he gave me a wink and smile

Music Stops

A goddamn wink and a smile. Sorry for cursin’ honey, but a goddamn wink and a smile.

They don’t make them like that anymore. No they don’t.

Music begins again for the chorus:

Big things happen. We’re just living our lives and then

Big things happen. Ignore me, I’ll sing it again

Now you can sit at home and you can prove me wrong

28 Or get yourself out there tonight and write your own song

Big things happened to me, life took off and I went along

Big things happen

Baby, big things happen

Verse 2 (tempo speeds up again)

So these big fellas just kept eating.

But I was alright with this new attention I was getting

So I’m intrigued and nervous, so of course I started chatting

And chatting, going on about what’s happening

And chatting and chatting, I nearly fucking blew it

With my mouth a’running, pull it together George

Pull it together George

Maybe a piece of pie, for dessert, yeah “Go Bucks” and that bullshit.

And finally, after I explained myself into oblivion

I passed out their separate checks cause they were going

But on his check, his check, I left my telephone number

That’s right on his check

I had a lot more nerve back in those days

Didn’t think a whole lot of it

And four days passed and I thought whatever

And then… I had the night off. I think it was roughly 9:37

The phone rang in my apartment …

“Hi this Ronnie”

29 Chorus:

Big things happen. We’re just living our lives and then

Big things happen. Ignore me once, I’ll sing it again

Now you can sit at home and you can prove me wrong

Or get yourself out there tonight and write your own song

Big things happened to me, life took off and I went along

Big things happen

Baby, big things happen

Music fades

Thank you. You have truly been a lovely audience, I mean fantastic customers. Come back to George’s real soon.

Music out

REG/voiceover: Pops, can I start doing the floors and the trash.

GEORGE: And so it went … under wraps, of course until his football playing days were over, but once he officially wasn’t trying out for anymore pro teams and once we got

George’s up and running, we were completely out and loving life. We went out to eat, we went to church, and occasionally hit the bars. Actually Ronnie didn’t like the bar scene much, but, he was 6’2”, 210 pounds of muscle and he adored me…you bet you ass we stopped in a few times. (Imitates walking into the bar, waves to no one) Well hi, boys, we were just in the neighborhood. Oh, have you met my BOYFRIEND, Ronnie? I guess he was what you might call a local celebrity, based partly on his playing days and partly on the fact that he was nice, personable, and humble. He was even asked to be the Grand

30 Marshall of the Pride Parade one year. I’ve got the photo album at home, if you’re interested. And eventually we decided we wanted a family. We adopted Reg. Our little

Columbus family. Two guys adopting a son in 1989 was pretty much unheard of, but

Ronnie’s cousin was a receptionist at the adoption agency and she had her eye out for us.

We got Reg when he was six. He had been rescued from the complete nightmare that was his birth mother and father in a very small town near Athens. He had been abused physically and emotionally, and the agency told us they thought he was going to be gay.

Somehow, he was exhibiting “gay” behavior at an early age, whatever the hell that means. (As he explains the following, George gives a nice wave of the hand, or jut of the hip, anything flamboyant) I mean, some people have the nerve to think they can tell when someone is gay, like there’s some tell sign. (Pause) Oh shut the fuck up. Anyway, we could care less. We just wanted to be fathers, but since the agency folks seemed so sure of themselves, I guess they felt we might make a good home for Reg. After a couple of visits with Reg, we were hooked. Oh he was angry, even for a six year old. You think he’s angry now, you should have seen Reg’s take on the second grade. Ronnie and I took turns going into to talk to the teachers at his school. We got to know Reg’s principal so well, I hired his son at George’s a couple of summers in a row. But Reg, he was also whip smart. He had a fearlessness about him that Ronnie loved. The adoption process and the paperwork can sometimes take years, but we had a family connection, and I hate to admit it, but things can happen a little quicker in this town if you can attach, “former

Ohio State Buckeye” to your last name. I mean, they’re always using some former football player to sell used cars, or get your vote, or some shit…it’s embarrassing. But who was I to object? And, so with very little fuss, especially for 1989, we got Reg. It has

31 been the most real experience of my life, and he has come so far. And then we lost

Ronnie, and I was a small business owner and a single father to a teenage hell raiser.

(George shouts offstage)

Well alright boys, we did good night tonight. Let’s get out of here.

George exits. Light change, no actors on stage as the band starts the next song

“Closed For the Night”

Music starts: a slow bass-driven instrumental jam that will pick up in intensity as it continues.

Trenton crosses across the stage doing some sort of closing activity, like wiping down tables or, stacking chairs.

TRENTON: Hey Reg, let’s hurry up with these outs. Those guys texted me and are gonna be here in like fifteen minutes to pick me up. This might be my new band I’ve been looking for and you can someday tell the story about knowing me when.

Trenton exits. Reg crosses across stage going the other direction

REG: Dude I’m hurrying. I’ll stock the server’s station. You take the floor, then we’ll both do the trash. I hate going out to the dumpster by myself.

Reg exits. George crosses the stage going the other direction

GEORGE: I told you boys those corndogs were gonna be a hit. Sold out!

TRENTON: You’re the man, George.

GEORGE: And we did a good job of getting people off of the wait.

TRENTON: Yeah, we rocked it.

GEORGE: And Reg, you only got two complaints tonight: well below your average.

32 REG: What can I say Pops? I aim to please.

Music continues to build. The movement of the actors will slowly start to change from natural walking to a more styled movement. Reg crosses with two bags of trash.

REG: Let’s do it, Trent. (pause) Oh I see, you gonna make me do the trash by myself.

Reg is now onstage alone. He is outside of the restaurant and there are two other guys standing on the sidewalk. The actors playing Trenton and George are now standing in for the young guys on the sidewalk. Lighting and costuming should do the trick. These are the musicians Trenton had mentioned earlier. They are there to pick Trenton up.

They block Reg’s path. Reg is trying to get to the dumpster.

REG: Excuse me man.

Music grows louder

REG: (after first request is ignored) Excuse me, I just gotta get by to that dumpster.

There is still no response and Reg starts to lose his patience. He’s tired and he wants to go home.

REG: Hey man, can you get the fuck out of my way. I’m trying to get this shit to the dumpster.

The two guys, Trenton’s “friends” are laughing, possibly drunk or high

GUY #1: Dude, look out

GUY #2: Dude, we’re just standing here on the sidewalk

GUY #1: Hey, is Trenton almost done? We’ve been waiting for like ten minutes.

GUY #2: Yeah, could you like, go get Trenton?

REG: Man, I asked you like three times to get out of my way.

GUY #1: (mocking Reg) Oh yeah, my bad, man.

33 Music grows louder. Reg finally passes with the trash bags

GUY #2: (laughing) Hey, that must be the kid Trenton was telling us about, that faggot that thinks he’s black.

Music explodes. Lights Change.

The Act I finale is a choreographed piece for Reg. The music will be a sampled soundscape: aggressive hip-hop beats and possibly some samples of Public Enemy’s

“Fight the Power.”

What will be communicated is that violence is taking place, with Reg being the aggressor.

Reg violently fights both Guy #1 and Guy #2 and soundly wins.

Interspersed with the sample of the “fight song” we also hear Trenton, who has finally come outside to help Reg with the trash and sees the commotion.

TRENTON: Get off him Reg. Reg, that’s enough.

Reg is left alone onstage as the music ends abruptly, lights out

END OF ACT I

ACT II

One week has passed since the Saturday night that ended Act I. Trent appears and we’re back during open hours at George’s. He is more confident than in Act I. He seems older and is more at-ease with customers. He speaks directly to a table with a knowing, detailed wine description.

TRENT: (To a table) Well the Malbec is going to be somewhere in between the Cabernet and the Pinot Noir---it’s Argentinian, really drinkable. If your palette’s awake, you’re going to get a little of plum and just a touch of smoke. But if that means nothing to you, you’re gonna get a nice medium bodied red wine. Basically, it’s a nice, warm little buzz after two glasses. You want to try a sample? (Move on to another table) Welcome to

George’s. Thanks for joining us tonight. I’m Trenton. Can I get you something to drink?

A cold beer? Yeah, I can help you pick out something. Right now we have the Best

Brown Ale from Bell’s. The brewery is up in Michigan and they make pretty good beer.

It’s going to be like your English brown ale, with a little more malt taste. People love it.

It’s like one of my favorites. You want to try it? Cool, two Best Browns and I will also grab a couple of glasses of water for you. Cool?

35 (Smiles warmly at the audience) I know right? Not bad, huh? Watchoo want? Trent’s on it!...Oh my God, I’m starting to talk like Reg. (Pause) Yeah, it pretty scary there for a moment: a total beatdown. That was one week ago tonight. George has ordered everyone at the bar not to talk about it, ever…or at least until the case is closed. I guess I felt a little responsible, since those guys were there to pick me up. But I wouldn’t go so far as to call them friends. I mean, I had only met them like once, and we were going to try to play some music together. They seemed like totally normal guys. After they took off running down the block, I still couldn’t get Reg calmed down. I didn’t know whether to go get

George, or to keep him out of it. I told Reg we should take a walk around the block. You know, just try to get some air, but he was too amped up. The cops showed up the next day and took him in. George had to bail him out and agree to keep him at home. He’s basically on house arrest and George won’t let him anywhere near the customers. Look, I hope Reg gets off with just probation or maybe some community service hours, but you know, you can’t just beat someone up because they call you a name. Seriously, you have to grow up right? I mean, Reg was crazy. I tried to pull him off of the smaller guy, and I thought for a second he was going to take a swing at me.

Yeah, I’ve been in one fight in my life: my senior year in high school. We were at a party after one of our games, and these guys from Sidney were there. No one could figure out why they were there. I guess one of them was seeing one of the girls from our group.

They were obviously trying to prove something. This dude was jawing with a bunch of guys, and somehow I ended up next to him. I wasn’t going to let some punk from another town show up and act like he owned our party, are you kidding me? There was a shove or

36 two, and then, well he said some shit, so I got one punch in before my teammates broke it up, got me to walk away and got the Sidney kids to leave. Just one swing, but I connected. What did he call me that made me swing? A fag, of course. I could’ve taken him. I was pretty pissed. But violence isn’t cool, right?

(Back to a table) Can I get you guys anything else tonight? Another round? No problem,

I’ll get your check together and I’ll be right back, cool? (As he leaves the table, his phone vibrates. Trent pulls his phone out of his jeans) We’re not supposed to be near our phones when we’re working, but you know how it is. (Reads message, then quickly puts phone back into his jeans) That was Cassidy. Oh my God, yeah, it’s Art School. Oh, it’s on. I mean, really, you knew I had a chance, right? Turns out, she finds a waiter, wannabe musician from Piqua, Ohio to be plenty interesting. I’m kind of a new thing for her.

She’s so cool. She sees everything as art: buildings, bodies, clothes, trees. We take a lot of walks downtown. We go to the museum. We walk around and take pictures of old city buildings. I’ve never met anyone like her and I’m learning a lot. We’ll see how long it lasts. Her friends though. Oh man, her friends drive me crazy. They talk about themselves more than anyone I’ve ever met. I would say it’s because they’re young, but I’m pretty sure we’re all about the same age. I work full-time, and most of them go to college.

Everything is really important with them. There are all these dead serious back and forth discussions about art and what’s real and who is authentic. Or who’s really cool and how long can they stay relevant. These conversations last until a certain point in the night, and then they all smoke pot, get loud, and start acting like 12 year-olds. They’re exhausting.

They’re cool kids and it’s like a full-time job for them. And they’re dedicated to the job.

37 Music Starts

“Trouble with Cool”

The trouble with cool

She’s just a weekend guest

Come swinging right in

They’ll redo the year’s ten best

Flimsy, temporary cool

They’ll kill for it, wait and see

Then the imitators swoon

A couple more and we’ll have us a scene

My girl’s cool…that’s enough for me

I get along with cool

But I ain’t gonna buy stock

Cool’s got her cards held close

So buy the key, pick the lock

So trust me, take a ride with cool

You get in; you’ll love the sugar high

But don’t you set up shop

38 Cool came once, then cool passed by

My girl’s cool…that’s enough for me

Or something like that. I miss Reg. As much as we fought, he was always easy to talk to about this kind of thing. For all his big front, Reg was a surprisingly good listener. We need him back here. Even the customers miss Reg. I keep thinking “seriously, you miss being ignored and have your food sent out wrong?” but I swear, they ask about him all the time. A slow shift can feel even longer without Reg in here running his mouth. He’s not really allowed to be near anyone right now, but he still has to come in here at night and clean after the place closes. I hate to admit it, but the thought of him cleaning the floors and the bathrooms makes me laugh. He must hate it so much. George hasn’t been himself since the fight. He stays pretty quiet and his smile is…something less than it used to be. We’ve all been working more shifts, covering for Reg. George refuses to even think about hiring someone new. I think he has to keep thinking about when Reg can come back to work, so that he knows Reg is gonna be okay.

Piano starts. Trent exits. George appears. He looks pretty beat.

“I Hear Fools”

A Ballad

The fool that made you think

That we were somehow on the brink

39 Of moving up from another class

He caught a couple breaks; he got a couple laughs

Now he thinks we’ve won; he doesn’t see the fight.

I hear these fools…every night.

The fool that made us feel

All it took was some curb appeal.

To sell us off to the powers that be

Cause we’re polite and dumb, but so pretty.

So now we’re just like you; everyone can tell

I hear these fools…they mean well.

I mean it’s quite a bill—changing lazy hearts.

That just sit still—we don’t know where to start.

A parade, a wedding, a law is done

My suggestion: leave our kids alone

The fool that shoves it all aside

Wakes up, coffee on, and finds a smile

Tries to work and eat; we can get along

His kid is watching, so he’ll keep it strong

As long as he knows he’s got a chance

I am that fool…so let’s dance

GEORGE: We got us a great lawyer. He’s working for one third his normal rate. Turns out he was a fan of Ronnie’s from back in his playing days. He said he heard about our troubles on one of those fan blogs. It never ceases to amaze how fast word travels in

Columbus. “FORMER BUCKEYE’S WAYWARD SON IN TROUBLE.” Then of course, it’s online, so anyone at all can post, and there are all these comments from all these psycho sports fans who have never met any of us. Some of them are for Reg, and some of them think they should throw the book at him. Then some jerks starts in on

Ronnie---whether he was a “real” Buckeye or not. Seriously, there’s like two pages on

Ronnie, who’s been dead for six years. Ridiculous. Funny: ask the average successful

Columbus businessman how many friends they have who are actually black—not many.

Yet a young black kid lands in this town when he’s 18 who can run and throw? Then, these grown, professional men basically act like little school girls—all grins and glances, pats on the back, can’t wait to brag to their friends at work about how they hung out with a pre-season All-American for two minutes at a fundraiser. But you know what? Those black kids better win, or else they find out how many people are actually interested in them. But I don’t have the luxury or the time to judge these over-the-top football fans. If

Ronnie’s name is what gets my kid out of trouble, so be it. Hell, I could probably find an old jersey of Ronnie’s he can have free of charge. Maybe he’ll sell it on EBay. Probation is our goal. Reg has never been in trouble before. He was provoked with incendiary language. Also, the way they were blocking the sidewalk, Reg could’ve felt threatened.

No one was seriously hurt, but they’ve got pictures of the two kids and they look pretty bad. I’m sure blood doesn’t play well in court. I’m sure those kids were scared because

41 Reg was apparently in quite a state, but we’re not talking injuries, except probably to those boys’ pride. Ronnie took more of a beating on a Saturday afternoon against

Wisconsin than those two kids got. One of the boys, Joey Lydell…apparently his father has different ideas than probation. He’s pressing for more. Parents, be careful who your kid loses his shit around. My boy had to go beat up the son of a Nationwide Insurance top-level executive. Kid’s clothes probably cost more than Reg has in the bank. Assault and battery: words you hope are never attached to your family.

The bar’s been a mess since this whole thing went down. All along High Street young people have been calling it “the reverse hate crime.” I don’t even know what to say to that. Those boys tried to pick on my boy and my boy wasn’t going to take it. That’s it.

Apparently there’s even a “free Reg” Facebook page. It’s got like 800 “likes.” Of course, my son reads this every hour on the hour at home on his computer, but I told him, if he even thinks about posting something about this, I’ll turn off the electricity and he can sit home in the dark all day. He seems to be missing the point of the serious trouble that he’s gotten himself into. I hope this football fan lawyer knows his shit. (Pause) Assault and battery. (half-hearted laugh) Maybe it can be the title of Reg’s first album.

Lights dim. There needs to be a full exit of “patrons” at this point. The bar is closed.

George exits. Lights come up on Reg. It’s darker onstage. It’s late Saturday night (early

Sunday morning). Reg is cleaning.

42 REG: Damn, these floors are dirty. Did that many people flat out miss their mouths?

Seriously. (Pause) I hope they made good money tonight, ‘cause I’m paying for it now. I can’t wait to see what kind of shape the bathrooms are in. It’s never pretty at the end of a

Saturday night. (Pause) Well I guess those kids understand me now. You feel me? I put it in a language that kid understands. I beat his ass. Then, for good measure, I beat his friend’s ass too. When I was kicking the big one in the ribs, I swear to God the adrenaline was coming straight up my throat and shooting out of my mouth. I couldn’t hear anything but my own voice. Trent was yelling at me to stop, I guess. So the dude’s friend, the smaller guy, I guess his name’s Joey. He wasn’t the one who called me a faggot, and he was apparently trying to pull me off of his friend. He came at me from behind, but he was too late, you know what I mean? Joey caught my elbow in his eye and it sent him back a few steps. That’s what they have the picture of: Joey’s eye all swollen and red. It looks pretty sick. So while the bigger guy was curled up on the ground by the dumpster, I stepped to the smaller kid Joey, grabbed the back of his neck and took his face straight down to my knee. I had no idea if it would work or not. I had only seen it in the movies; you know what I mean? It kinda scared me when his face connected right into my jeans, cause then there was some blood on my pants. Seeing the blood scared me straight quick, so I went back over the big guy, and was very precise and clear with my punches. I just threw a couple more quick ones to his midsection. I stayed away from his skull because I didn’t want to fuck up my hand. (Eyes the audience) What? You offended? Am I scaring you? Glorifying violence? …Damn straight, America, you want people to listen or not? You think those assholes would have ever looked at my dad and called him a name right to his back? Openly disrespect him? Of course not. They

43 wouldn’t consider it an option, no matter how drunk they were…So tell me this, why do guys think they can call us out on the street, just openly yell “fag” at some kid? Here in

Columbus, Ohio. My guess is they’re pretty sure they’re not gonna get much back.

They’re pretty sure you’re not gonna do nothing. They think maybe you’ll ignore it.

They think you’ll just look down at the ground and hope it goes away. That’s why that fight was so fucking awesome….element of surprise bitches. American power? It’s walking down the street and no one says shit…that’s what we need to see. Kid walks in a room and people want to be near him, want to hear what he has to say. So until one of those fools in the NFL comes out, and trust me, there’s plenty of them that could. Or until we get some huge NBA player with a monster dunk, that says, yeah I’m gay, did you see my triple double? Until this country gets that? I guess they’ll have to settle for me.

Beat Drops

“What They Understand”

Moms and dads on the weekends gathered round the tv

Cheer their sons, young money, “did you see me?”

See, I’ve never been a person to look up to

But the other night, street fight, now I’m a thug too

And I guess could’ve tried a little conversation

Could’ve kept peace, could’ve tried to educate

But my whole life I witness this violent nation

Thought here’s my chance, “outlaw, imitate.”

Cause I ain’t never really had it on the football field

44 I ain’t never had my Friday night light show

I’ve been spit on, ignored, harassed

So I blew the roof off, here we go

Bust two, knee in, punk’ll feel me now

Young fist, just in, I’m Rockafella wow!

See there’s some things that I can’t allow

Ain’t easy, but stand up, I’m a take a bow.

Yes, I coulda begged, “please don’t disrespect.”

Please treat people well, now really, what you expect?

You think I’ll change ’em through a bunch of talk?

You think I’ll make a difference? You think you get the walk?

Now all these well meaning folks talk equality

Petitions and money, costumes and jewelry

Well I ain’t got money. Ain’t got rich friends

So I’m dishing it out, what they understand

It’s what they understand

Music fades

Both Trenton and George enter after Reg’s song is over

REG: (to George) Dad, I told you I can walk home. It’s like seven blocks.

GEORGE: The hell you’re walking home.

TRENTON: What’s up, Reg?

REG: (to Trenton) What are you doing here dude? It’s like 3:00 in morning.

45 GEORGE: I’ve been promising him I’d get him trained up behind the bar, and with everything that’s been going on, well, this is the only time we’ve had a minute where we weren’t working. We can go home in awhile. I can get some sleep, and then we’ve got that meeting with the lawyer tomorrow afternoon.

REG: You hear from him earlier today?

GEORGE: I think he’s going to get the Lydells to drop the charges. I just have a good feeling.

TRENTON: Seriously?

GEORGE: Yeah, I think, from the way the lawyer’s been talking, we’re going to get something worked out. They got the Lydell kid’s dad calmed down a little bit. It’s still gonna cost us. But we can always get the money back.

REG: So they harass me, and I have to go pay them for it.

TRENTON: I was there buddy; I think you got your two cents in. Jesus, Rocky.

REG: You still don’t get it, do you?

TRENTON: No Reg, and I don’t think I’m ever going to get it.

GEORGE: Alright, that’s enough you two. (grabs Trenton’s shoulder and guides him toward the bar) Trenton, get behind there. Pull out the well vodka, gin, tequila, and pull the Absolut. Make sure we have some ice. Grab three highball glasses, three rocks glasses, a couple of pints, the mixer, and I will be right back.

George exits. Trenton begins getting bottles and glasses out on the bar. He is ready to show George he knows his way around the bar.

46 REG: So you think Dad’s gonna give you bar shifts now? I’ve only been off of the floor for a week. You think you’re just going to cut in front of me in line? Man, I’m going to be back any day now.

TRENTON: Calm down, Reg; everybody wants you back.

REG: Yeah, but they want all of my good shifts, and that ain’t happening.

TRENTON: Well try to think of that the next time you completely lose your mind and act like you’re the fucking gay avenger.

REG: Did you seriously come in here in the middle of the night to start in with me?

TRENTON: Look, I know you’re freaking out. George just said he’d give me a couple of slow shifts---put me behind the bar a couple of lunch shifts a week. I’ll mostly still be serving food, but I can get used to making a few drinks, and find out what people like--- pick up my speed a little.

REG: Have fun with that. You’ll be waiting years for a weekend night shift behind the bar. I wouldn’t bother.

TRENTON: I’m not going anywhere, so I might as well learn. You going somewhere?

REG: (Pause) I have no idea. I don’t know how I feel about serving people all day anymore--- running around for hours so that someone else is happy. I had all week to think about trying to do something else (Pause) But I’ll be here at George’s for a while though. Gotta get those lawyer fees paid off, and any other amount I have to pay for fighting that rich kid. God, I’ll probably be doing doubles for the rest of the summer.

TRENTON: You ain’t getting my shifts. I’ve been rocking this place lately…been making it fun, making people feel a part of it.

REG: Is that right?

47 George returns with an empty liquor bottle filled with water. He joins the boys at the bar.

TRENTON: (refers to bottle) George, you big lush, you storing Grey Goose in the kitchen? Is that the boss’s special stash?

GEORGE: You didn’t think I was going to waste real liquor teaching you fools, did you?

It’s water for practice. Okay, move over.

George grabs a highball glass and promptly fills it with ice. He then flips the practice bottle up like a pro, pours the water, then flips the glass on the bar in front of the boys.

GEORGE: You can give yourself a count until you get good enough to eye it, but that’s a vodka cranberry, a rum and coke, a gin and tonic, and a good majority of the drinks you’ll make here when you’re not pouring beer and wine. You gotta make it look good.

Pour with confidence. You try.

Trenton picks up a glass, fills it with ice, and then flips the bottle. He puts his practice pour on the bar next to George’s example. He’s close, but a little off.

TRENTON: Not bad, huh?

REG: (jumps in) That’s not even close. That drink is getting sent back.

GEORGE: Drinks never get sent back.

REG: Let me try. Get out of the way Trenton.

Reg repeats the pouring process: glass, ice, bottle, pour. He places his pour next to the other two. He’s also close, but no closer than Trenton.

TRENTON: Don’t we have shot glasses or those special bottle tops that measure out the liquor for us?

GEORGE: Nobody uses those anymore. Those little shot glasses make a pretty weak drink and those other gigantic shot glasses…those “gay bar shots”…you only fill those

48 up for old-time regulars only…or really cute guys. (Refers to glasses on the bar) These here are standard-issue George’s cocktails. You gotta get your counts down.

George picks up another glass and repeats the process. He holds it up to his first example and it’s exactly the same amount of alcohol.

REG: Damn, Dad, that’s tight. You are seriously trained up.

GEORGE: (Pause, smiles at Reg…something comes over him) Yeah, I’m trained. Keep practicing. I gotta go back to the office for a minute.

George exits.

REG: Dad keeps trying to talk to me about what I’ve learned. He’s waiting for some moment of revelation, that moment of responsibility…the afterschool special. You know what I’ve learned? If you connect with a couple of hits right away, they’re stunned and they don’t even think about hitting you back. There’s a lesson. I sit around the house all day, bored out of my mind. I miss my shifts at the bar. Shit, I even miss the customers sometimes. I’ve thought up so many good insults for you and that shit’s just wasted. I texted a couple to you, did you get them? (Starts laughing) I was watching this late night folk shit on VH-1, and I swear you look a little like Paul Simon. You do! You just need to find some bizarre red-headed clown looking dude to sing with you and you’re gonna make it big! (laughs) So yeah, maybe I learned that too…getting busted sure makes life boring. I’ve been reading a little bit. Dad likes Toni Morrison, so I’ve been giving that book called Love a go. It’s got some fucked up people in it, but yeah, she’s can flat out write, man: confusion, pain, love. She should do an album. (Pause) I do get online and check all the local media, and fuck, all these stories in the paper, and not one of them about the beatdown the other night at George’s. Doesn’t that count as news? I mean, it

49 doesn’t happen everyday. Where you at Columbus Dispatch, don’t wanna run my story? I swear, the only stories anyone ever reads about young gay guys is some kid getting bullied, some kid feeling helpless, some college kid throwing himself off of the bridge, some kid getting beat up at school. WHERE THE FUCK IS MY STORY? (Reg finally breaks. His bravado, his swagger melt away and we see a kid who is lost) Where you at

Other Paper? What’s going on Outlook Media? Don’t you get it? We Won! I knocked those straight boys out. Where’s my article? This was my contribution! We got a movement. It’s still going, and that movement needed some crazy kid like me. Not a single thing in the news, nothing. Nobody listening. But whenever some poor kid gets messed with, it’s front page so everyone can weep, and get online, and say “It Gets

Better.” DON’T YOU DARE CRY FOR ME. I ain’t a victim. That’s where you want me right? You want me to be your funny friend? Be your good listener? You want me to serve your dinner or cut your fuckin’ hair? Take you shopping or teach your kid how to play the piano? That’s where you want us…under you.

At a certain point in Reg’s speech, George has re-entered and is listening. He wants to go to Reg, but he knows better. Finally he makes his presence known with a cough or sigh.

REG: (Sees his dad, tries to regain composure) I really thought I had done something. I know it sounds ridiculous, but I thought it was change. Change like they’ve never seen before. Was going to make people think twice.

GEORGE: Change never comes as fast as you want it.

TRENTON: Reg, you change people. I swear you do. You changed me. I’ve never met anyone like you.

REG: You think I changed those two guys I fought with?

50 TRENTON: (Pause) Think about it this way. How do you think they’re going to tell this story about what happened to their friends? You think they’re going around telling a story about how they started to mess with some guy they didn’t even know and then they got their asses kicked? How is that story going to get played out? How many people are going to be impressed? Why do you think that Lydell’s dad wants to get this settled and get it behind them? He doesn’t want people to hear about this.

REG: I wanted everyone to hear about it. I wanted the little junior high kid afraid to get on the bus every day to hear about it.

GEORGE: Son, you can’t control that. People can spin this thing all kinds of ways, or they can completely ignore it.

REG: I know.

GEORGE: No really, who cares about the story. You don’t need a story.

REG: But it’s a good story. I think there’s some kids who need to hear it.

GEORGE: (Finally loses his patience). I am so sick of hearing you worry about this narrative that you constantly spin in your head about all of this. You know what happened? You lost your temper, because some idiot called you a name. That’s it, and now our family has to deal with the law, our business has to deal with the drama, and everyone who knows you has to deal with these consequences. And please stop referring to your life like it’s a damn news event. Live your life. That’s it.

TRENTON: Yeah but he was standing up.

GEORGE: You think the only way he can stand up is by throwing a punch? All you have to do is become whoever you are going to become. That’s it. The only other thing is when anyone asks the question, the answer is always “Yes I am.” That is your obligation

51 to whatever movement that’s before you: “Yes I am.” We don’t hide. No news story. No superhero. But no hiding. (Pause) Are you listening?

REG: (Quietly) Yeah dad.

GEORGE: (Laughs) Your generation: such a sense of audience about everything. Like nothing’s worth doing unless there’s a bunch of people online commenting on it.

George heads back to the bar and eyes the glasses and the bottles.

GEORGE: Alright, back to work. Let me see you pour Trenton. Make me proud.

The three of them continue practicing pouring drinks. Trenton and Reg continue to work with the water bottle, taking turns pouring. George starts straightening up, while checking the boys’ work. As he’s wiping down the bar, he starts in with the first verse of

“Gigantic” by the Pixies.

GEORGE: And this I know

His teeth as white as snow

What a gas it was to see him

Walk her every day

Into a shady place

As George, sings, Reg picks up the famous bass line, humming it out while his dad continues

GEORGE: With her lips she said

She said

TRENTON: No way. George, you like the Pixies?

GEORGE: Son, you can’t work at a bar and not love the Pixies. No matter what you’re into, they’re one of the best

52 REG: (takes over the song for George) Hey Paul, Hey Paul, Hey Paul, let's have a ball

Hey Paul, Hey Paul, Hey Paul, let’s have a ball

GEORGE, REG, & TRENTON: Gigantic, Gigantic, Gigantic, A big big love

Gigantic, Gigantic, Gigantic, A big big love.

Lights Fade Out