Why, yes! I AM married! A Play in One Act

Act I, Scene I

 

Evening. Front lawn of home.  Stage Center: sweaty and disheveled with random hairs getting caught in mouth, Michele holds camera, engaged in taking desultory photos of garden and kitties. Stage Right, kitties sit irritated, being taken pictures of.

 

We are barely tolerating this.

 

 

Enter Stage Right. Male, 52 years of age. Bearded. 

 

 

Exit kitties.

 

Michele, Bearded Man engage in random conversation regarding cameras.  Light Conversational Music.

 

Finally:

 

Bearded Man (out of the blue): Well, you ain’t married?

 

Michele (surprised): Why, yes I am…

 

BM:  Coz yoor not wearing a wedding ring.

 

Michele: Oh. Yes. No. I’m…not…?

 

BM: Yoor a pretty lady and I was gonna ask you out for dinner.

 

Michele (nervously tittering): Oh! Hee, hee!  Thanks!

 

BM:  Well, so you don’t know nuthin’ about cameras, huh?

 

Michele: No, no not really. Sorry.

 

BM:  Well, that’s all right. It was nice meetin’ ya.

 

Michele: Ok, take care.

 

Bearded Man, exit Stage Right. Michele, Exit Stage Rear, running.  Music crescendos and fades.

 

Act I, Scene II

 

Busy morning street. Michele, sweaty and disheveled after brisk exercise, pushes stroller Stage Center.

 

Traffic music.

 

Enter Stage Left, green four-door sedan at stoplight. Driver: male, 30-ish, also bearded.

 

Michele ushers car to make a right turn as she waits to cross street.

 

Driver: mumblemumblemumblemumble

 

Michele: Go ahead. I’m waiting for the light to change.

 

Driver:  Don’t you want a walking partner?

 

Michele (bemused but chipper):  Um. No…?

 

Driver: Are you married?

 

Michele (firmly): Yes, yes I’m married.

 

Exit car, Stage Right. 

 

The End.

 

Music Swells and Curtain Closes.

 

The End.

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7 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. bejewell
    Jul 28, 2008 @ 20:19:48

    Act I, Scene III:

    (Bejewell exits car at convenience store. Large man, 40ish, thick Texas drawl, flat top haircut, approaches.)

    Flat Top: Mmmmmm, honey! I’d like to take you home! You busy!
    Bejewell: Busy? Ummmm, yeah.
    Flat Top: You married?
    Bejewell: Yeah, duh. Don’t you see the ring, dumbass? (immediately regretting the “dumbass” remark)
    Flat Top: Well, you huuuzzbend is a lucky, LUCKY man. Mmmm Hm!
    Bejewell: Ummmm, yeah. Gross.

    (P.S. What is with you and dudes who have beards? What a random thing.)

    Reply

  2. ~m
    Jul 29, 2008 @ 09:02:13

    Oh, Lord! Ewwww! Did you really call him a dumbass? Ha! Hilarious!

    Reply

  3. bejewell
    Jul 29, 2008 @ 19:26:47

    You bet I did. Because he was. And I know the convenience store clerk by name, and knew he would save me if anything scary happened. (I’m a lot bolder when there is a large, bald bodybuilding clerk on my side.)

    Reply

  4. natalie
    Jul 30, 2008 @ 15:07:01

    well at least he stopped when you said you were married. i told a turkish guy once that i was married and had 4 kids and he said that didn’t bother him! um…eeeewwwwww!

    Reply

  5. ~m
    Jul 31, 2008 @ 09:46:30

    Natalie: hahahahaha! that guy wasn’t self-centered AT ALL!

    The funny thing about this story that I should have made clear was that this NEVER happens to me. And that I was clearly unkempt. The men in my community must really be desperate!

    Reply

  6. Sharon
    Aug 04, 2008 @ 11:47:21

    While I am off in the woods of Vancouver Island, no running water for 5 days, getting steadily grottier minute by minute, you are back in the Heartland, receiving marriage proposal after proposal. What a life you lead!!

    Reply

  7. ~m
    Aug 04, 2008 @ 19:10:53

    Well, Sharon, you should have hied yourself over to the Heartland because apparently the bearded men here are all keen on perspiring women! 🙂

    Reply

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