The Plays
Café le Monde [sample]
by Charles L. Mee
a young actress on a cell phone
THE ACTRESS
I have a fucking song
what does the director mean I don't have a fucking song to sing
I have a fucking song to sing I'll sing the fucking song
well I do have a song
I do have a song
I do have a fucking song
I did tell the director
I told him I do have a fucking song to sing
yes it's ready
yes
yes I could sing it right now
yes I could fucking sing it now
yes I could fucking sing it anytime
I told him I could fucking sing the fucking song any fucking time he wants
well why the fuck doesn't he fucking listen when I say any fucking thing?
friends gather around to console the actress, one seems to be her boy friend, puts arm around her, they kiss, all part in different directions-or she storms out solo as they watch, and then:
a human statue performer comes in and takes his position
[later, halfway through, he will just take off his headgear
sit and have his dinner break
and then get back up and statue again till the end of the play]
as
eight dogs go through
two dogs go through
one dog goes through
a guy walks by, carrying a pane of clear glass
a guy walks by with a bathtub on his head
a guy who plays the violin
[who was playing it with one of the songs perhaps]
puts it in a trash can
and stomps it
or smashes it with a baseball bat?
[later on he will return,
get the violin out of the trash can,
play it beautifully,
and then put it back in the trash can and stomp it again;
he might do this a third time, too]
then a dance piece;
it could be Camille Brown's solo dance,
The Evolution of a Secured Feminine,
with music by Ella Fitzgerald, Betty Carter, and Nancy Wilson
[this piece could be divided into three parts
so that one part can be done now,
and the other two parts later-
or, of course, three separate dances can be done in the course of the piece]
and then:
a guy agonizing about his life
A GUY
The trouble is
I can't make sense of my life at all.
I can't see a beginning and a middle and an end
It seems to me to be just a bunch of random vivid moments.
I think, when I am on my deathbed,
I won't look back on a story of my life
I'll just remember a constellation of moments....
vivid moments
but just that
HIS FRIEND
I think this is how it is.
A GUY
Is it?
