end of play/7 (7)

(They are talking in a room.  There is a DOG running back and forth like a fucking crazy maniac.)

SHE: So tell me...

HE: Yes....

SHE: I'm wondering....

HE: Yes...

DOG: (running back and forth) Haha, haha, haha, haha.

SHE: Your extremely heavy beard, and the shadow on your beard, and it's a lot like the shadow on your chest, and I wonder if you grew a beard on your chest, which famous celebrity you would look like.

HE: That's a terrific question, really wonderful question, magnificent.

SHE: I mean "continental philosopher."  I didn't mean to say "famous celebrity," I meant "continental philosopher."

HE: Oh, I know, I know what you meant.  I love the continental philosophers very much, I wish I had t-shirts of all of them.

(And here she laughs really, really hard and as soon as she does she realizes that it was much too hard.  But now it's too late and she is aware of her upper lip, so she chews on it.  He, meanwhile, is lost in lofty thoughts.)

HE: My favorite by far is the one who led the Haitian Rebellion.

SHE: I've never heard of that.

HE: It happened a lot longer than before you were born.  I'm not suggesting that you're young.

SHE: I wish I knew something more than little things about everything, and something more than the very specific things I do know deep things about, and the continental philosophers writing about Haiti is really in both categories, but I missed a class I think, because I should know.  Oh, I wish I knew.

(And it's peculiar how she gets lost in wishing she knew, and even more peculiar that he doesn't really understand what they're talking about, so he starts to throw out French names to sound important.)

HE: No, no, it's not something everyone knows about, because it happened so long ago, when I was younger, or not yet alive, or uh, in that previous life, where maybe I was Haitian and that's why I'm so interested in it.  Does that count as being part something other?

SHE: I don't know, I can't follow anything because I am thinking about my hands, and how I like to hold things in them.  Like books.  I like to hold things in my hands.

HE: It was probably farther back than that, even, I mean, farther than I'm thinking, maybe by 80 or so years, like how Poussant Jean-Marie Kardec wrote in La Nuit D'Homme.

SHE: I need to read that.  This is why it's nice to have an adult conversation for lunch.  For once.  I'm not around people who are so, so not like the same age as the people I'm around, who are younger, I mean, who are my sister.  Much younger than me.  By several years.  I'm so much older than her. 

HE: I was once at a conference where I was the youngest person there.

SHE: You were?

HE: Yes, my mom took me, because they couldn't find a baby-sitter.   I was pretty young back then.  A lot younger than I am now.  I mean, it really wasn't that long ago.  I'm still young.

SHE: But I feel old, and that's why this is going so well, because it suits my age.

(DOG suddenly goes fierce and attacks his leg a little bit, but you know, not enough to draw blood.)

HE: I have a dog on my leg.

SHE: I like the way that sounds, this is such a promising evening.

DOG (suddenly wise beyond his years):  But not so promising after all, kiddies.  Because the past is a hell only when it's something you want to live in, but can't.  Nostalgia is hell, and it's worse when the present is perfect but there's still longing, because when you miss someone, it's easy to get lost in the mix and forget to take out the trash and wash the dishes.  And scene.

(That's it, then.  The DOG ended the scene, just like that.  This is so arrogant.  But they don't notice.)

SHE: I feel really good about that scene.

HE: I do, too, I wish we could get coffee and talk about it.

SHE: Are you asking me out?

HE: Oh, I wish.

(And they wish.)


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