Jeux de Salon

flaniganswake@gmail.com

Mannequin I – Linda Shreibman - cover print

Jeux de Salon - Parlor Games - original cover

Overview and Background

Jeux de Salon is the three year journey of a man in his early forties who after losing his mother tries to find love in his life again. The period is demarcated by March 8th, 1998 - the death of his mother. And September 13th, 2001 - a devastating break up with the 'woman of his dreams'. During that period the man - Patrick had fallen into a double life. He traveled every two weeks between Champaign, IL and Austin, TX. He maintained a family in Champaign - a wife and three children - and he was trying to build a software company in Austin called KnowItAll. While in Austin, Patrick fell into an 'underworld' of strippers and cocaine. Jeux de Salon - translation Parlor Games - is this underworld journey through the illusory circus world of strip clubs. Much like Hesses's Steppenwolf he was '... was lost in the maze and whirl of the dance'. Patrick maintains a dialog with the 'voice in his head' - the poetic Pan. Pan is a satyr - a mythological creature who teaches of the overwhelming power of the sexual instinct and the danger of illusions and fantasy. Patrick embraces two myths - Echo and Narcissus and Medusa and the Gorgons. His journey is a synthesis of these myths brought together psychologically to allow him to 'find his heart'. The play itself is structurally built as a musical Ionian scale manifesting the resonance existing between isomorphic 'octave' worlds. Patrick is surrounded by companions who accompany and assist him through the underworld. His journey eventually leads him to the heart of a beautiful girl named Gigi who ultimately rejects him. Gigi embodies both Narcissa and Medusa - the mortal and most powerful sister of the Gorgons. Through loss Patrick becomes aware that love exists within himself regardless of redemption and reward found in the world. Love is not found inside the arms of his mother or in the eyes of beautiful sirens. Immortality is the illusion of living without death. In the words of Pan - 'awaken from immortality - your heart will find its way and your mind will stumble in its wake'.

Characters - in order of appearance

Pan is bare-chested, heavily tattooed and has a scar on his chest left by heart surgery. He often crouches and perches like an animal, mimicking Patrick's mannerisms. Patrick is the only one that can see and hear Pan; he is the voice in Patrick's head.

Patrick is driven to expose himself. He is always slipping into personalities that shelter and deceive him. He is forty, has a wife and three children and is obsessed with young women. He imagines that he can think his way out of anything. Patrick has lost himself.

Peggy is Patrick's dead mother. She was raised in rural North Carolina. All of her life, she attracted people that just needed someone to listen. She understood the privilege of being alive. Her corpse is on stage in the first scene. We only hear her voice from backstage.

Amanda is tall, sleek and muscular. She has straight, brown hair with flashes of red. She has three distinct personalities that are always fighting for control. Dina and Demanda hide and protect Amanda by skillfully manipulating others. Dina is her dance name.

Jamie is a fireball. She is medium height with long brown hair that frames an extremely beautiful face. She works harder to get inside peoples' heads than any other dancer. Jamie is highly dominant and combative, especially with those she cares about. Lynn is her real name.

Brandy is a ladyhawk - a striking bird of prey catching me from the side knowing all too much about what's inside. She has fiery red hair and an attitude that pushes everyone into her way. Brandy boldly collects boys as ornaments to hang upon her Cruella Deville coat. She hides her loneliness well.

Michelle is a tough girl who came to Austin fleeing from herself in Miami. She now lives out of a hotel room where she hires people to watch her child as she works. She is tall, blonde and very beautiful - but her broken views about life reveal that she is beaten down by those she loves. And she can't let go.

Miracle is half Vietnamese, half Caucasian. Because of this, he mingles equally well with Asians and Hispanics. He flaunts a 'hood' guise, exalting 'the love' and the bonds of brotherhood. His impulsive humor is usually gentle, yet often confrontational and aggressive.

Angela lives out in the country. Her moods are tightly strung, yet she is extremely flexible physically. She cannot dance under a strobe because she is epileptic. Angela is afraid of knives and water. Her thin, subtle beauty demands attention and will not let go.

Ivan is very serious about helping everyone get his or her shit together. He always has projects 'in-the-works'. He is about 30, has close-cropped brown hair, blue eyes and a well-chiseled face and body. Ivan's stature is balanced by his sharp wit, compelling intellect and rapid, hip speech.

Kofi is a ringleader and a toastmaster. He has pimp-like vanity, a shaved-head with braids, jet-black skin, with a regal glare and mischievous smile. Kofi is a Vegas-style court jester, controlling perceptions and tones. He is a master at corralling people and keeping them at ease.

Gigi is self-conscious, competitive and physically deliberate. Her beauty draws men effortlessly into her world. She has high cheekbones and a birthmark on her forehead. Gigi has long brown hair that she twirls incessantly and an infectious, hypnotic laugh that always takes one by surprise.

Peggy, Angela - same actress

Amanda, Jamie, Gigi - same actress

characters are loosely based

on these people

Pan - Patrick -Amanda - Peggy

Jamie - Brandy - Michelle - Miracle

Angela - Ivan - Kofi - Gigi

Stage and Performance

The stage layout is generally the same for all three acts. The audience should be very close to the stage - preferably surrounding it. They should feel like they are actually inside a strip club. The ceiling is dark with fluorescent colors and black lights. Background dance music is played between scenes during the second and third acts. There is a circular dais at one end of the stage which doubles as a platform and a dance stage with a pole. When it is a dance stage there is a stripper dancing slowly to soothing background music low enough not to be intrusive. There is a handheld mirror on the stage which is occasionally picked up by the actors. At the other end of the stage there is a table with a few chairs around it. It has a lit candle in the middle. This side of the stage needs to be more spacious because most of the action happens around the table. There is also incense and fog in the air giving the stage a smoky appearance. There is a stopped clock above the center mirror facing the audience. Behind the table is an opaque glass panel encasing the DJ booth. The audience can see his shadow. The play should start late, with a few people sitting in the audience asking, "Do you have the time?" All of the action is a coincidence of movement, feeling and thought. The timing and choreography must be precise - Jeux De Salon is a dance.

Essential Ideas

Masks are referred to throughout Jeux de Salon as a means to disguise intentions and to protect oneself from others. They are the result of schisms that occur during life as a way of coping with external pressures. The problem with donning masks is that the person eventually identifies oneself with one of the masks in a specific way. The 'center of gravity' façade that a person identifies himself with shifts around and the notion of self becomes complex and multi-faceted. Eventually one mask predominates and basically becomes affixed permanently. And once this occurs, there begins a difficult struggle for identification. Questions abound. Which mask or personality am I? Which one is real? Life escapes us taking refuge behind these masks which in turn invite Death as a counterpoint. Once masks take the forefront, Death moves in and starts discussing realities and options. A strong capacity for discernment develops which allows one to see Life and Death in sharper contrast than in ordinary life. Relationships become mythic struggles for one who is fighting for his Soul. Once there is a clear perception of Death, a relationship develops. In Jeux de Salon this is characterized by the bond between Patrick and Pan. Patrick realizes he must die to himself in order to attain real life which is not a 'perceived' life of the mind but a 'felt' life of the heart. So ironically - Death must be passed through in order to gain Life. That is the crux of what is happening with Echo and Narcissa. Echo must give up identifying with his perceptions as reality and trust his heart staying 'inside himself' instead of living 'outside' - inside his ideas. The dark side of oneself is merely turning ones attention and focus away from assumptions about who one is – the masks - and it is about exploring the possibility of who one actually might be. And this attainment of the Soul is dependent upon strong emotional attachments and trust with other people. Without this the Soul will perish. The Soul is mortal in the sense that it transcends life - but its mortality is still very real in a much greater sense. Narcissism enters the picture as a reflection upon the Self. Once the ability to perceive oneself is lost, it becomes clear that one starts to see oneself in others - but only in others. So the journey turns outward and tends to find joy and peace within the beauty of others. But this is an illusion. It is still a reflection because the Self in perceiving the world is actually beholding itself in a mirror. Eventually there is the realization that the Self cannot exist 'outside of itself' – so it turns back inside to see that the beauty of the world is created and flows from within. This is the attainment of the Soul – the discovery of the heart. Feeling the world is salvation. The scene development of Jeux de Salon is based upon the structure of the Ionian scale and triads as formulated by GI Gurdjieff. The intervals exist sequentially as well as interdependently as expressed through a symbol called the enneagram – which is shown below. The spaces (intervals) between the scenes are denoted by the solmization of notes in a musical scale. Each scene fills the interval between successive notes - the syllables (do re mi fa sol la si). Without getting into the theory too deeply, all of the intervals (scenes) interact according to the connections laid out by the enneagram. This adherence to an esoteric structure gives Jeux de Salon a ritualistic tone. The play transcends temporal dependencies - like all mythic interplay between archetypes. Transformation is just the manifestation of that which already exists internally. The stopped clock represents the true nature of change. It not only progresses in time - it blooms from the inside.

The Passion of Echo

An Invocation

told by Pan

Echo is always reaching. He has heard tales of freedom, tales of escape from the dreams that he is living. Imagine a world. It is without life, cold. There is no feeling. Echo looks out at his world and it is still. There is no response, just landscape, quiet and dead. He has glimpses of terror, corpses as companions, but typically he is rolling in sleep, imagining it to be illusion and fear. Echo cannot feel anymore. He is not sure that he ever could. His mother always felt for him. His heart lived inside of her. And when she died, it was gone. For years he searched for his heart in others, in their eyes and laughter, but it never came home. And then he found pain. And with pain, for the first time, he could touch the walls of his cage. His boundaries were becoming visible. But as soon as he began exploring the walls of himself, Echo got swept into a whirlwind of dance, pleasure and deception. Chasing himself, he found little contentment with his desires. All was perception, a sleight of hand. But his sleep deepened and he soon forgot about his heart entirely. He had become a magician of invention. He had dreamed a new world. Surrounded by beauty and decay, at last he was at the front lines, with voices all around him and one in his head, Death. Death had been his friend for years. From mother to Death, Echo had always had companions. He always had options. But he was growing tired of his conversations with Death. Then one day, Death offered him a gift, Narcissa. Narcissa was more beautiful than any girl Echo had ever seen. He wanted to be with her always. He wanted to run with her, laugh and dance with her. Echo wanted to tell her his secrets, share his emptiness. He no longer needed Death, so he called out to him and demanded that he leave. But Death looked at him and said now is the time. Echo screamed out I have found Beauty and it has blessed me with presence. I cannot leave now, I am outside of myself. Death replied, there is one choice to be made Echo. You must give up Narcissa, and you will have life; you will feel as you did as a child. If you choose to keep and worship Narcissa, today is the day. All is lost. Echo fled to Narcissa asking her for salvation from Death. He begged her to help him find his heart, but she could not understand his wish. Echo continued, but she only saw reflections of herself, and his cries were frightening her. Echo had never been so in love. In a final leap, Echo called out to her and showed her his Death. But since she could only see herself, she thought that it was her own Death. Narcissa was horrified, and pushed him out of her life forever. Torn by his loss, Echo turned to Death and was comforted. You have chosen well Echo. The spell has been broken. You have found your heart. Do not call out to me anymore. Everything has changed.

Act I - Scene 1

Mercy

The Death of Feeling

The lights come up. Patrick's dead mother Peggy lies on the dais. Her voice comes from backstage. Pan is sitting beside her, remaining there throughout the scene.

Pan:

watching the hands

Christ the magician

what happened? What ever happens?

I was busy watching the hands

holding them up to my face

filtering the light, hoping for distortion

bending the light like wings of some great bird

swooping down upon me

birds upon my mother's dead body

a dove outside the window is watching

mirrors tie me down

her body is getting colder

inviting the dove

it flaps its wings against the glass

thumping wildly as if tangled in vines

breaking free, it spreads the sunlight and disappears

I look at my mother

she is no longer here

Patrick walks onstage. The lighting makes him appear as a shadow.

Patrick:

A ghost, a spectre. I stand before myself, passing through this life, catching glimpses of forms that I have fallen into. My thoughts move and disappear as quickly as they come. As sure as it waits for me at every turn, my reflection, still as Death, stares back directly from my past, it waits and waits. The voice in my head, calls out with answers that haunt the present. I can only pray to have friends to pull me away from my reflections, ideas that bind and strangle. Inside this hollow cube, I can only contemplate thoughts, not myself. I live choosing between masks and the spirits of the dead.

Death is the beginning. Nothing starts without it. We meet others who share this day, this moment when we look at one another and breathe, and know that we are alive, certain of it, or at least sense that we are something, if not alive. As far back as I remember, Death has been in my head. It comments, criticizes, covets, rationalizes, judges and ultimately, provides company as we lie dying and have nothing else to become. When did it arrive, when will it go? And until we become its friend, it will hide itself from us. It will not confess. Just try to corner it, and it will become the seeker, the mask of the holy man, intent upon not letting us see its disguise. When I was a young boy, one summer the trees were covered with the empty shells of cicadas. There were armies of them clinging, reaching toward the sky, remembrances of a great escape. Inside an empty candy box I had mounted specimens of all the forms, and one that had struggled and died in between. It had pulled its legs free of the shell, but its body had not emerged, frozen in time – en passant.

Peggy:

Patrick, are you still here? I'm so glad that it's over. All of this fighting has really made me tired. I can't even hold myself up anymore. Is everything ready for the funeral? Don't make a fuss. I don't want to be a bother. You need to be spending this time with your family, not with me.

Patrick:

I don't like these dreams anymore. They used to be comforting.

Peggy:

But I am still here. I haven't left you.

Patrick:

But you are dead Mom. I know that. Even though we still have these moments together.

Peggy:

It's not important Patrick.

Patrick:

But it seems important. This feels real and I can't help but think it needs to change. I need to push you away somehow so that you do not inhabit my dreams. You are dead.

Peggy:

I didn't die - you just imagined I did.

Patrick:

No. That's not true. We said goodbye. Everyone did.

Peggy:

But I am here talking with you now.

Patrick:

Yes you are. But I know how this will end. With rotting flesh or some other grim reminder of the urgency of dirt and decay. The ground will swallow you up again. It always does.

Peggy:

Perhaps you are right. But that is the dream. Our time together is real. Beyond flesh.

Patrick:

Please don't remind me of the cage I have always beat myself against. Seeing the world through bars which appear and disappear as my attention wanes.

Peggy:

Patrick. You always think too much.

Patrick:

But closure is important? Isn't it?

Peggy:

Not always. Most times it just happens.

Patrick:

But some bonds keep closing - then opening again!

Peggy:

At night.

Patrick:

Yes.

Peggy:

Why did that man approach us that day? Talking about accepting Christ?

Patrick:

I don't know. He drifted in between us. But it did frame our talks. And our time. Did he feel your death as I did? Why did he walk up to us?

Peggy:

No - he couldn't see - he was lost on his own path. Looking for a way out. He probably felt my presence. But he couldn't really see me at all.

Patrick:

Death always has a way of making everything else seem trivial, or at least out of context.

Peggy:

Our time together has always been in context.

Patrick:

I'm going to miss you so much. The kids barely got a chance to know you. They are afraid because of your sickness. It has a smell you know.

Peggy:

An earthy smell? Your life follows me you know. You will reach me soon enough.

Patrick:

I dream about you all the time. You have already died, but you show up at our family dinners such as Thanksgiving. Everyone gets really uncomfortable because you're there. Atha or Evie will take me aside and tell me “Patrick, you need to talk to Peggy and tell her that she can't come around anymore because she's dead.” It's all very creepy.

Peggy:

We always could talk. I'm not surprised that they asked you to tell me.

Patrick:

I also had a dream in which I had frightened a girl who was a friend of mine, and everyone was mad and determined to catch me and punish me. I never meant any harm. You appeared in the dream to help me. We ran across this huge field that stretched beyond our sight, just running… we could hear the peoples' calls getting closer, but we just kept running.

Peggy:

Have you seen that old woman's ghost again?

Patrick:

The one that hangs out in your hallway? Is it you I see Mom?

Peggy:

I don't feel like I am going away. I just feel like I'm going deeper.

Patrick:

We have been here before haven't we? Since I was born?

Peggy:

It seems like it, doesn't it? Playing 'hide'n'seek' with each other.

Patrick:

Mom, I'm sorry for all the trouble I've caused you.

Peggy:

Promise me something Patrick. Take care of Jennifer and your children.

Patrick:

I promise. Without you, they are all I have.

Peggy:

Don't lose them.

Patrick:

Do you think that we should try to make another trip to that cancer center in Lexington?

Peggy:

It's just a waste of time. You know that.

Patrick:

It was a nice ride though. Even though you drifted in and out of sleep the whole way, it's always fun talking with you… we don't have much time left. I can see the birds coming.

Peggy:

We never do. But strangely enough we are here. And there is no time left at all. But I will always see you tomorrow - and the next day.

Patrick: frustrated

Mom, you're not dead yet. Just look outside. It's a beautiful day. It's sunny outside. Flowers are coming up, filling the air. I wish I could take you out… just to breathe it all in. Listen to the birds.

Peggy:

Those birds. Don't trust them. They've been hanging around a lot lately. Do you have my cigarettes? Are you hiding them? You people. Keep me locked-up with nothing to do. I'm really getting tired of this.

Patrick:

You can't smoke in here Mom, it's a hospital. Do you want to watch TV? I think some talk shows are on. Want to watch the news?

Peggy:

No. They have that damn parade on for me, and I don't want to watch it anymore. I didn't do anything that they said I did. Can't I just have one cigarette?

Patrick:

There's nothing on TV about you, Mom. I sure wish that your thoughts would clear up. You kept me up all night, holding your finger up with that light on it - a target for some marksman out in the hallway. Just crazy. Death is coming - what an imagination it has. And you fall right in.

Peggy:

Isn't there anything on TV that's worth a darn? Just commercials. Did you get that stuff that I got for the kids? It should have been sent to your house two weeks ago. And where is Jennifer?

Patrick:

She isn't here Mom.

Peggy:

Patrick, would you get me something to eat, I'm starved. I'm always hungry around here. And the food here is just awful. I liked it at first, but then it's the same thing day after day…. it's enough to kill a person. How long do I need to stay in here? It's so expensive and I need to get back to work.

Patrick:

Mom, you can't go back to work. We need to get this settled.

Peggy:

I'm fine. You all just worry too much. I just need to get my energy back. Lying in bed all the time is the problem. The more I lay around, the sicker I get. I just need to get up and about.

Patrick:

Don't be ridiculous. You need to retire. You've been in a coma for two weeks. You should start resting yourself and enjoying your life. Anyway, yesterday you signed the papers for your retirement.

Peggy: angrily

What? I did not. Patrick, did you trick me? I can't retire now. I have so many bills. What am I going to do? You people just push me around when I'm sick, and take advantage of me. I never would have agreed to retirement, you know that. I can't retire.

Patrick: angry as well

Dammit Mom… this is ridiculous! I'm so tired of trying to look after you, taking care of things, sitting here talking to you endlessly… you don't appreciate anything. You just get pissed and throw it back in my face. I'm trying to help here. I know that you're very sick, and angry about all of this… but please don't be mad at me for trying to help.

Peggy: after a moment of silence

Patrick?

Patrick:

I'm still here Mom. How are you feeling?

Peggy: calmly

Did Atha make my funeral arrangements yet? You'll need to cremate me soon, so don't put things off. Is your father going to be at the service? I hope so. You know, I still love him. Have you heard from him at all? I hope it's a pretty funeral, but don't spend too much on it. I mean, I'm already dead, no need to waste money.

Patrick:

These dreams. They keep pulling me back inside.

Peggy:

I'm glad you are here with me.

Patrick

Me too Mom.

Peggy:

I really miss Freda. I hope she can come to my funeral. Is she going to be there? Have you heard anything from her? I haven't seen her in years.

Patrick:

She died a long time ago. You know that. You're so confused. Can I get you anything?

Peggy:

You know, in the hospital, she told Atha to tell all those ghosts in the room to just go away. I need some time with my sister. You all just go away. Am I still alive? I'm so tired of lying here. And that doctor; I know he wants to kill me. You know last night I heard him and the nurse talking about killing me. Why can't I go home? I need to go home. Patrick… are you listening to me?

Patrick: crying and walking away

Yes Mom, I'm listening. I'm listening. I wish I could take you home.

Peggy:

Please take me.

Patrick:

Mom?

Peggy:

Patrick. You shall have the last word, but no power to speak first. You must find Narcissa and allow her to see you - then push you away. You will find your heart.

Patrick:

What did you say?

Darkness, then a flash of light. Patrick walks over to her body and puts a sheet over it.

Patrick:

You're gone. You're really gone. As I was coming to the hospital this morning, time seemed to be moving slowly. In the cab, the driver and I were singing along softly to a song on the radio.

Pan: singing softly - Roy Orbison - 'Crying'

I was alright for a while, I could smile for a while.

But I saw you last night, you held my hand so tight,

As you stopped to say 'Hello',

Ah you wished me well, you couldn't tell,

That I'd been crying over you, crying over you…

Patrick:

The song ended as we pulled up to the hospital. I took the elevator up to your floor, got off and walked around the corner towards your room. Behind the curtains, the light was very bright. Something had happened. As I entered by the nurses' station, a nurse came up and said that she was sorry, that there was nothing they could do. You had died ten minutes ago. I walked behind the curtain and there you lay. Your body… pale white with traces of marker where needles had been moments before. I was left alone with you. I took some scissors that lay next to your bed and cut some hair from your forehead. Then I started thinking about all the things that needed to be done; all the people to call, all the arrangements to be made. But I sat and held your hand, realizing it all could wait. There was no hurry; none at all. I sat there with you for two hours. The clock was ticking loudly. Birds were flapping at the window. Once in a while I walked over to the mirror to look at my face. It looked different each time.

Your service was beautiful. Dad was there, but he spent most of his time nervously wondering how to act. Actually, a lot of people were doing that. But I'm glad he was there. You would have been proud of Rose and Claire. Rose really seemed to understand. Claire looked in at you and said Nanna's falled down and she can't get up. Everyone started laughing and crying at the same time. I wish that you could have known and held Jack. He's such a beautiful boy.

We visited that old cemetery where your family is buried so that we could spread some of your ashes. We walked around slowly in patterns, following invisible paths that seemed to reach up out of the ground. I started tossing out ashes from side to side, as if performing ancient rites. I felt that it had all happened before, or that I had been doing it forever, over and over again. I now know why you spent your last few years looking for old graveyards. You were looking for a place to die. I hope you found what you were looking for.

Pan:

we live our lives afraid of Death

because when it comes, it does so without warning and in haste

we can prepare ourselves for the eventual

but when the time arrives we find that we have been dreaming

and that its reality is consuming leaving those around it

with emptiness and longing for the past

images flood our minds like scenes from a favorite movie

but this time, we will only see it once

it makes us wish that we had watched more closely

we can find refuge in dreams, but all that we are sure of

is that a door has closed around that life

and all of us are in its wake

Patrick:

Pan, I had a dream last night. It was about a boy who grew up to become a great magician.

Pan:

Time is the illusion of changing perspectives. It dissolves with pain and loss. It is a lust of the flesh.

Patrick:

The magician could make people believe almost anything with his magic. His intentions were perfectly masked; the perceptions of others were under his control. But what he wanted most was for someone to love him. His magic was powerless. So he decided to turn to Death for help.

Pan:

Clarity will come as a revelation, not as a dream. It will be an act of love, but it will not be seen that way. Things often appear to be the opposite of what they are intended to be. People will see only what they are able to see. This will not be understood without great pain. You will find that there is something much worse than Death. Immortality. You will find that you are trapped inside who you have always been told you are. You must see without thought, without the past. And for others to see you, you must expose yourself… bound and gagged.

Patrick: speaking to his mother's corpse

You are the one that pushed me here. I stand and feel your body getting colder. You have left, but the warmth of your presence is still fading, and with it I lose my heart. What will I do without you?

Pan:

You will taste the pain of Narcissa. She will plant a seed within the space your mother has prepared. This seed will grow into a child. She will bring you love without your magic.

Patrick picks up a sheet and raises it above the corpse.

Patrick:

I can't see myself in the mirror tonight… my eyes just turn away.

The lights go down. Pan walks offstage. Three minutes of silence.

End of Mercy

in loving memory

Peggy Tucker Flanigan, February 7, 1935 - March 5, 1998

Act I - Scene 2

Corpse

Living in the Parlor

The lights come up. Patrick has his back to the audience, holding up a sheet in front of the dais.

Amanda: very drunk and slurring her words

Patrick! Patrick!

Patrick: dropping the sheet - Amanda is lying on the dais.

I'm here Amanda. It's so useless trying to talk to you when you're like this.

Amanda: putting a cigarette in her mouth

Patrick. Do you have a lighter?

Patrick: walking around hurriedly

No. I don't.

Amanda:

Patrick. Do you have a lighter?

Patrick:

No. Stop asking me.

Amanda: crawling around on the dais

Do you have a lighter? Do you have a lighter?

Patrick:

No! Stop it! Just fuckin' stop it!

Amanda: lays face-up on the dais, moment of silence, she smiles with her eyes closed

I know what you want Patrick. But it can't happen. Everything would end so fast.

Patrick:

Try to get some sleep. You have to work tonight.

Amanda rolls over towards the audience, cuddles up like a child and falls asleep. Pan walks out. Patrick sits on the dais next to Amanda.

Pan:

The game is on, and all perceptions are real. This is her magic. Amanda can grab you and pull you in, convince you that everything is in order and as it should be. She is a carnival barker, daring you to come aboard, to see her, to laugh with her, to suffer her. Amanda is a little girl, who curls up in your lap, loves candy, tells stories about castles and monsters and longs for her prince. When she was young, Amanda carved 'Dina' in her ankle with a knife. Her little brother could not say 'Amanda'… only 'Dina'. Dina walks around, a sleek, elegant bird-of-prey. Long legs, tiny ass, rusty-red hair that jaunts out like a fiery plume. This is the dancer; who never wants to be anywhere else, never awkward, never sensitive. Being with Dina is like saddling-up on a spirited horse. Then there is Demanda, appearing in clubs and bars, showing her tits in conversation, making out with girls at every turn, demanding the latest leather apparel in store windows, and disappearing into crowds. She is a Kerberos, guarding the gates of Hell. But as a friend of mine said she seems to hang out there quite a bit, but I don't see much guarding going on. She splits into three like a rainbow, a beam of light that hits a jagged-edge of glass, that for a moment is a prism. I am reminded of Amanda as a familiar ache, a longing that returns in a song, or magic following the rabbit as lost children too busy searching and laughing to find their way home. And this is where I find her. Love seeing its reflection for the first time - with a broken wing.

Amanda rises up, a fallen angel, spreading colored veils around her catching the light. Pan walks offstage in thought.

Amanda: looks in a mirror and tosses her hair and starts doing her make-up.

What time is it Patrick? I have to get ready. Do you like that one chick? What's so great about her? She's a total bitch to me all the time. And what's the deal with you, trying to fuck all the young girls? That's totally gross. Why are you so quiet tonight? What are we doing later? I hope I make a lot of money. I think I will. Do you think I will?

Patrick:

You always do. Jamie's not so bad. You're just mad at her because I hang with her at work. But she's got me on a timer. She's all about business. You need to make your money. We always hang out later. You'll get your usual tonight.

Amanda:

Yeah, but then Kofi ends up grabbing it all. Sucks. He helps me, but sometimes he pisses me off. When he comes in with some bitch and spends all my money. He says 'our money'. But I'm putting it all in this investment that's going to really pay off. Jonathon says it should start rolling in about a year. But I don't trust Kofi. Do you think he loves me Patrick?

Patrick:

I don't think I would trust anyone who calls himself a 'futures trader'. Amanda's future? Not his, that's for sure. And he can be such a bitch sometimes. How do you put up with all his shit? How could he be mad at me about Franci?

Amanda:

He's always wanted her… and she can't stand him. Blonde, tanned, boobs… I'm just a skinny bitch, but I make good money.

Patrick:

Damn right you do. He sure has hooked into a great deal with you. He's totally conning you and you just don't see it. Or you do, but just won't admit it.

Amanda: angrily

No. No. I don't want to talk about it. You don't know. You don't know what we have. It's like this special thing. He really helps me. But Jonathon is my best friend anyway. You know what we used to do back when I was seventeen? We used to talk about getting old dudes to sleep with me so we could blackmail them for fucking an underage girl. Isn't that hilarious?

Patrick:

Yeah… hilarious. Guys like me.

Amanda: laughing

I still can't believe you have a family. That night you told me, so weird. I was all fucked up and you came in and showed me this picture…. I thought we knew each other so well. I mean, we share all our secrets… and you have this family… kills me. We have such a close relationship.

Patrick:

I don't want to talk about it Amanda.

Amanda:

And that time you said you couldn't be my friend anymore? You really freaked me out that night. Just because I wouldn't fuck you.

Patrick:

How about that night that I chased you around clucking and flapping my arms like a chicken because you were afraid to be alone with me?

Amanda: putting a cigarette in her mouth and motioning for a light

How could I forget?

Patrick:

No! Don't even…

Amanda: crushing cigarette and throwing it on the floor

How much time do I have left? I'm always fucking late.

Patrick:

Not much. About an hour.

Amanda: going through her bag

Shit. Do you know where my cards are? Here.

She starts shuffling and dealing out solitaire.

These are the cards you put inside my leather coat. You do know my games.

Patrick:

Parlor games. There's no time to play games.

Amanda:

Just one, okay? So, this customer wants to take me up in a balloon tomorrow. Will you come with me? He's kind of creepy.

Patrick:

No way. He's your guy. Not mine.

Amanda:

I miss how things used to be Patrick. I enjoyed sitting with you so much. Talking. You always cheered me up. All your stories. That time you said you smelled that candle and burned out all your nose hairs. Goddammit. laughing

Patrick:

Yeah… I always have my stories.

Amanda:

Have any num-nums?

Patrick: reaching in his shirt pocket

Good plan. I think I have some left.

He starts pouring out some coke and makes a couple of lines.

I need to get more later.

Amanda:

I'll find some. Are you staying at the club or going downtown?

Patrick:

I don't know. Depends on who's working. I think Jamie's working. If she's there, I'll probably hang for a while, but I'll definitely be around at close. I have to drive Kara home and I'm supposed to meet Trish later. Yeah… I may go by Exposé. Trish is working tonight. Ivy and Mary will probably be there.

Amanda: rolls up a dollar and does a line, shakes her head and wipes her nose

What do you think of my hair? I got more red in it this time. And I'm also shaving up under the back.

Amanda lifts her hair and rubs her neck.

I think it looks hot, and it feels better in this heat.

Patrick: takes the dollar and does a line

Man, this shit still has that jet fuel taste… uh. I hated that stuff. Yuck. Someone must have smuggled it inside a gas tank. Shit.

Patrick pours out two more lines and they do them without talking.

Amanda:

We don't have much time left Patrick.

Patrick: he slowly rubs her head

I know. How come you never showed me any of the stuff you wrote about me?

Amanda: biting her lower lip nervously

I don't know. It just seems so private. You know… when you write something down, you can't take it back. It's permanent. And the poems you wrote were so dead on; I couldn't do that. I still remember… “…Jumping planes and party trains, all night lines insane.” Crazy. How do you come up with that?

Patrick:

It just comes out somehow - I guess. When's your dad coming down for a visit again?

Amanda doesn't react, she starts doing her makeup again, looking in the mirror.

Amanda:

Do you love me Patrick?

Patrick:

I heard about what happened when I was gone last week.

Amanda:

It's not what you think. I didn't try to kill myself.

Patrick:

Amanda? I heard you attacked Kofi with a butcher knife. That's all I heard. Was it more than that? What the fuck?

Amanda:

I was just trying to get attention. That's what Kofi said. You see, I cut them the wrong way, see?

holding out her wrists …Just attention.

Patrick:

Amanda.

Amanda turns her back and folds her arms.

Amanda:

It's not as bad as that other time.

Patrick:

You were trashed and naked. They locked you in the weight room so you wouldn't hurt yourself. You started screaming and banging on the glass door. It shattered and you ran out and sliced your feet on the glass.

Amanda:

That's not really how it happened. Everyone just overreacted.

Patrick:

I don't want to lose you Amanda.

Amanda: throwing her clothes into her bag

Patrick? Did you hear about that guy that came out with us last month? I saw you guys talking for a while at Spiros. He shot himself through the head two days ago. I feel bad too, because he was calling me a lot and I stopped returning his calls. He was really bugging me. He started hanging out with Kofi and me about a month ago, and then he just started calling all the time. Patrick, do you think that if I returned his calls he would have lived a couple more weeks?

Patrick: smiling and shaking his head

Amanda, after all I've given you, how come all you gave me was a key chain from Vegas? I wrote all this poetry, bought you a leather coat and arranged a photo shoot for your birthday. I still need those negatives by the way. Don't get me wrong; I loved giving you those things. Just to see you happy.

Amanda:

Can you lay out some more shit Patrick?

Patrick: pulls the bag out of his pocket and lays out some more

Here… don't get too wired. We need to get going.

Amanda: does a line

Isn't this a great group that we have now? Do you think it will last forever? I just love everybody, and we all just look out for each other all the time. It's so cool. It's like we're all part of this little universe and we all see each other as ourselves. I feel so at home.

She gets a gagger and coughs.

Goddammit!

Patrick: laughing

You alright?

Amanda: laughs until she sees her reflection in the mirror, her eyes tear up

Shit.

Patrick:

Are you ready baby? Got your clothes and everything?

Amanda: doing her eyes

Yeah. I think so… after my eyes. I've been thinking about that fight you had with Kofi. I know it happened because you care about me. I know that I need to get away from him. But he really scares me sometimes. I'm so tired of supporting him. I just can't do it anymore.

Pan walks onstage and sits on the dais.

I'm trying Patrick, I really am.

Patrick:

You've tried, but you need to try harder. You know that you can always come stay with me if you need to. I'm so afraid that you're going to die. When you show up at my house at noon on Saturday with your wrecked car sitting in the middle of the road, I get concerned. Then other times when you try to leave; Kofi starts feeding you X. That's bullshit. You know he actually came up to me at the bar after you had decided to stay and said I win. I wanted to kill him. And that night at Yellow, I would have walked out with you right there. You know where I stand.

Amanda: starts brushing her hair

I know. Patrick, let's stop talking about all this depressing shit.

Pan:

I leave her there, wait for her, and guard the heart she hides

we've been through this dance before, in countless other lives

facing-off in bars and cars, using money bribes

our fates are gentle friends giving warmth, living tides

but our masks fight for turf for their greed, and their pride

Amanda's in Demanda - for this take - this low-ride

gypsy tellers weave voices in patterns and lost choices

it hardly seems like justice just one shot - but many times

Amanda:

When are you going back to Chicago?

Patrick:

Amanda. I have a secret to tell you.

Amanda:

Next week?

Pan:

We live our lives over and over again eternally. I know it.

Amanda:

How can that be true?

Pan:

I remember the conversations that we have. I knew you when I met you.

Amanda:

You mean a lot to me too Patrick.

Patrick:

You don't get it do you? What's going on here? Is this just some game we are playing? You call me late at night sometimes and tell me that you love me, but I don't know what that means. I need companions, living ones, but I can't tell who is alive anymore. I feel completely lost. I spend all of my days in conversations about survival and helplessness. What are we doing here Amanda? You're nineteen and all you ever talk about is what songs you want played at your funeral. That's fucked up. You are praying for life to let you sleep. It's all too much. Are you still alive, or is this some vivid dream? I need to wake up, or at least leave. Something needs to change.

Amanda:

Don't leave me. I need you to be here. Just talking to you makes me feel good. I'm not sure about anything either. I like going to work because I like talking to everyone. I'm on stage there, and that's where I feel warm.

Patrick:

Being an object? You live in the music, in their eyes, in their arms and in their dreams, but not in your heart. I watch you slide up and down in all those laps. A sea of laps, like waves bobbing up and down after a shipwreck; debris floating everywhere. You ride the tide Amanda. And you seem happy just to be alive, always soon to be dead... Why do I ask for so much? I really wanted Jen and the kids to move down here. I miss them. I'm not sure how I lost them.

Amanda:

Your kids love you Patrick. They always will.

Patrick:

But I want them to be here.

Amanda:

I know you do. I miss my dad.

Patrick:

So here we sit, keeping each other company.

Amanda:

I guess sometimes that's all I need. It's enough.

Patrick: after a moment of silence

Promise me one thing Amanda. I know that when this started, I was just a mark to you. Now, being caught up in all this bullshit, it's easy to lose each other. Don't ever lie to me or you will lose me.

Amanda kisses Patrick on the forehead, he grabs her bag.

Ready?

Amanda: stands up, purses her lips, and smacks her ass

Yep, I guess so. I have a few regulars coming in. It'll be an easy night. Let's sit together. I need to laugh.

Patrick:

Sure Dina.

The lights go down. Dina stands on top of the dais and faces the audience. Patrick turns his back to the audience. Pan walks around nervously.

Dina:

Bullshit. This is all bullshit. This is not Amanda at all. It's all lies. Patrick is just making himself look good to relieve his guilt. Amanda doesn't need saving. She has me. Why would she need him? He has made her appear as a helpless, abused girl, which is not true. He's the one that needs help. What game is this Patrick? 'Man comforts stripper'? Amanda never tried to kill herself. Patrick parades souls around like he has some sort of privilege, some key to salvation, but he is the lost one. He is the one that deserted his family. He would rather be here with me than to be with his wife and kids. How did he lose them? It's clear, isn't it? It just isn't clear to him. What does he think he sees anyway? All of his memories are just reflections of himself. He doesn't really know any of us. An echo, that's all he is. Patrick started out as a customer of mine. Then we became friends. We hung out and partied together. That's all. Through rejection he has tasted my decay. He worshipped my beauty and gave me gifts as they all do, gifts of grief, gifts of emptiness and hope, of loss. He feels that I have given him life, when there is only death. Now he stands before you with a distorted face, his presence, yet he is only a disembodied spirit, an image of a man. Patrick exists only in mirrors. And there is no growth beyond this point, only illusion. He will now dance with my sister Stheno. She will push him back to me. Our presence is timeless, visiting me eternally. How did he phrase it? just one shot - but many times. He knows Death better than he knows me. His only escape is through Death. And once more, he has reached emptiness… alone with himself at last. I am the sister Euryale.

Dina stretches her arms out, her veils hanging like wings, then pulls them in.

Patrick: sitting down on the dais

I am sorry Amanda. I am so sorry. I want to love you, but I can't. I don't know how. The curse of our fathers, a divided Self… left to rot as a corpse, wearing many masks.

A moment of silence.

Amanda: sitting on Patrick's lap

i really dont feel good about u writing about 'me'… and i do luv u and understand that u have lost everything and thats what u meant to write about and that i was only a chapter in your head... i just wanted u 2 see that maybe what was in your head was not always what went on in the 'real life' in others heads. u do have a lot of shit that u have lost… and im very sorry, but u always have me. i just got upset because thats not how i remembered it, and call me crazy, but i do love u, but i know how much u were and now are reaching out... u speak as if u have lost it all. u have only lost what u cant see, not what u have. im always here, in your heart as u r in mine.

Pan: standing on the dais

Dina falls in, bound in my arms

Amanda looks back as her finger slides and my eyes

become more timid than my hands

she clings to me to pass this night

touches

and as quickly moves away

Three minutes of silence. Curtain.

End of Corpse

in loving memory

Amanda Kay Corso - January 18, 1980 - April 15, 2008

Pan appears in the audience as the stage is prepared for Act II.

He recites a poem for Amanda.

en passant

I walked upon a woman

crying blood into her hands

she asked me for my help

but I could not understand

a little girl came up to me

her hair shining

brightly in the sun

she reached up and offered

a toy held tightly in her hand

I smiled and waved

remembering

I turned around

a pool of blood

still soaked the ground

stained glass windows

colored the glare

ripped pigeon wings

an angel had escaped

and left them there

white dove

preparing the space

ritual dancing through

time loneliness makes

birth into the world

a soul without a face

a passage through life

in haste

Act II - Scene 1

Pain

Touching the Walls

Patrick is sitting at a table. Pan is lying on the dais, looking very sleepy.

Pan:

Go away Patrick, I'm trying to sleep.

Patrick:

Wake up Pan. In dreams I can fly. I am sure of it. And when I awake, I am still certain for a moment. I push inside somehow until I lift above myself and float out. It is a directed tension through attention. Watch. he tries to demonstrate it Like this. It's hard to explain. I've been reading a lot about metamorphoses. Did you know that in addition to the power of flight, the adult insect has miraculous abilities? Bees can see ultraviolet light, ants can communicate complex messages using the sense of smell, and the males of some species of moths can sense a female over a mile away. Is there really an escape? Is there an 'out there'? Pan, are you sleeping?

Pan:

No. No. rubbing eyes Somehow I have a hard time imagining that you would need to sense the presence of a female a mile away. They always seem to be within a few feet. What do you ask? Isn't it all so obvious? Am I sleeping? Just feel the pain of being alive. Can one sleep in pain? Pain dissolves time. We are nothing but spatial awareness. Change is a shift of mirrors. Beauty startles our eyes, watching the patterns, the breath of Narcissa. It is a difficult path through the Gorgons. They live where the Sun sleeps, near the ocean, and guard the entrance to the underworld. I have heard echoes of their beauty. Few survive their pain. They can only be approached through reflection. The most powerful shield has always been the mirror.

Jamie walks out and stands in front of a mirror looking at her dress. Patrick is staring at her until she feels his look. She smiles at him in the mirror.

Patrick:

Man, you look great tonight.

Jamie:

This is a new dress, I bought it this afternoon.

Patrick:

I wasn't talking about the dress. Come and have a drink with me.

Jamie:

Okay... give me minute. I need to go pee. Want to watch?

Patrick:

Good one. Who have you been talking to?

Jamie:

I'll take a Chablis. she walks away

Patrick:

So Pan, what's one plus one in Sugars' math?

Pan: laughing

Zero.

Patrick:

Well, I'm going to make it equal one tonight.

Pan:

Jamie?

Patrick:

No way… I wish it was Jamie. She's so beautiful. Her back and neck are always so wet after dancing. It drives me crazy. She always holds her hair up for air. But what a queen bitch she is.

Pan:

When did you first meet her?

Patrick:

It was a Sunday night. Amanda had just blown me off for some guy she wanted to hang with instead of me. She lied and said she was tired. I had such a crush on her, but she always stayed so distant. I am beginning to think that she can only play people, or at least, just play me. I needed a new focus. So, I went into Sugars and stood at the bar and watched the girl on main stage. What a trip. She was in such control, and a great dancer; laughing, then smiling and taunting lines of waiting tippers. This was her night. I had never seen her before. I went up to stage, tipped her and said Hey, I'm not going to bullshit you. I don't love you. I don't have a crush on you. But, I have lots of money and I'm sitting over there. That seemed to get her attention. She was sitting with me within five minutes. Then, before I knew it, I had a new $300 a night stripper. Fuck. I was such an idiot back then.

Pan:

Back then? What happened to Amanda?

Patrick:

The first thing I said to Jamie when she came over was I need you to do something for me. I need you to break the spell of Amanda. Dina? No problem. And she was right. That was all it took. Then she began to work me, and I loved every minute. I had such a great time being with her.

Pan:

Do you love Jamie, Patrick?

Patrick:

Oh yeah. Big time.

Pan leans forward. They stay close and whisper.

Patrick:

Now, somehow tonight I have two girls lined-up after work, and I sense that it will all just blow-up in my face as usual. There is this girl Michelle, who I've been talking to lately. She said she might be able to come over tonight, but I have a feeling it may fall through. But, just a little while ago, Michelle comes up, gets in my lap, kisses me, a big old sloppy kiss, then says: This is your lucky night Patrick, I'm horny and haven't been laid in two weeks. Fuck!

Pan starts rolling in laughter.

Pan: playing with his earrings

So my man, your fishing scheme seems to be working tonight.

Patrick:

Always have four lines in the water.

Pan:

But when two fish hit at the same time, the lines get tangled and break.

They high five each other, Pan walks offstage laughing. Brandy comes out and jumps into Patrick's lap.

Patrick: falling back a little

Brandy! What's up babe? he swings her legs up like, holding her like a cradle

Brandy:

I just came to say hi Patrick, I don't need my diapers changed.

Patrick: hugging her

So how come we never go out? I ask all the time... and you always make some joke about needing a big dick or something like that.

Brandy:

Are you kidding? I hear everything Patrick. I talk to Amanda, Jamie... you want me to go on? You have a bad reputation dude.

Patrick: laughing

Me? A bad reputation? What about you Cruella?

Jamie comes to the table.

Jamie: giggling

Get off my man bitch!

Brandy reaches out and grabs at Jamie's nipples. Michelle walks up, Brandy gets up and leaves.

Patrick:

Michelle? Is everything on for tonight? You have a babysitter for sure?

Michelle:

Yep. It's on. We'll hang out after work. Can you drive? I don't have my car here.

She hears her name over the PA and looks up.

Shit, I'm up on main.

Patrick: gets up and kisses her cheek

I'll find you at close. Good luck baby. See you in about an hour.

Michelle: walking offstage

See ya.

Jamie: sitting down in Patrick's lap

You like that chick?

Patrick:

Yeah. She's got this thing about her.

Jamie:

Sure. I saw it while she was walking away.

Patrick:

We never talk about being with each other.

Jamie:

You don't want to go there.

Patrick:

Why not? We talk about everything else.

Jamie:

A little distance doesn't hurt. Let's keep it simple.

Patrick:

I love playing catch with you Jamie.

Jamie:

Catch?

Patrick:

Yeah. Hooking up with someone is like playing catch. When I meet a girl, I throw the ball a little too high or to the side. If she jumps or dives for it, things get interesting. If not, let her go. She's just not interested.

Jamie:

Blah, blah, blah. Sounds like a plan. Are you ever going to get a dance from me again, or what? I can't just sit here and chat all the time. You're on a timer fucker.

Patrick:

Well, after that one time I came in after I'd been partying for days. Shit. You gave me a complex. Just because I couldn't get hard when you danced, nothing would've worked at that point.

Jamie:

I remember that… 'limp dick'.

Patrick:

Since when am I responsible for the self-esteem of the dancers here?

Jamie: hits him hard on the chest

You're a fucker.

Patrick:

Dammit! That fuckin' hurt.

Jamie:

So, do you want to play or what?

Patrick:

Catch?

Jamie looks at Patrick, rubs his head and smiles.

Jamie:

So what's all this peeing stuff about?

Patrick:

I can't believe this. One night I was talking to Amanda about these two girls I met years ago that had some sort of peeing thing going on. Then somehow, it got translated into this fetish… that everyone apparently believes I have. Thanks to Amanda.

Jamie:

So, what I heard is that all the girls are now peeing in front of you.

Patrick:

Yeah, it's getting ridiculous.

Jamie:

Tell me the story.

Patrick:

It's pretty funny actually. Years ago in North Carolina, me and a friend were out one night and ran into these two nurses, Bonnie and Connie. They wanted to come back to the apartment to party, so I took one of them, I'm not sure which, let's say Bonnie. I get home with Bonnie and start showing her around the apartment. We are just walking around chatting, and at some point, find ourselves in the bathroom. Well, Bonnie just drops her pants and sits down to pee, without a break in the conversation. No excuse me, nothing. She finishes, wipes and gets up as if nothing happened. Strange. Then I notice that my buddy is taking a while to get back. He comes in after fifteen minutes and wants to tell me something. We go into the kitchen and he says that on the way home, Connie needed to pee, so he pulled over and she knelt beside the car and kept waving at him the entire time. I told him my story and from that night on, we referred to those nurses as the 'pissing chicks'.

Jamie: laughing

That's funny.

Patrick:

Yep. Every time I'm at a party and in the bathroom, laying out lines or whatever, girls just go ahead and pee while I'm standing there. It's fucked up. Really.

Jamie:

Hey, let's get stoned sometime and just hang out together one night.

Patrick:

I'd like that. I enjoyed looking through your catalog pictures that night. You should have done more modeling. Did you ever hear anything more about that magician's assistant job you had?

Jamie:

What I rip-off. That fucker just left town and didn't pay me a cent.

Patrick:

And dancing? I thought you were going to try to get into dance at UT.

Jamie:

I really don't have the time or motivation any more. It's really hard work and NO money.

Patrick:

Ah… money.

Jamie:

But one thing might come through. This customer is in computer sales and he said he could get me a day job selling computers.

Patrick:

Laptops?

Jamie: hits him hard on the chest

You fucker.

Patrick: leaning over and kissing her neck

You really do look beautiful tonight Jamie. Do you remember what I told you that night?

Jamie:

I'll never forget. You know Patrick, if I were your wife I'd never forgive you.

Patrick:

For what?

Jamie:

You can't talk your way out of this.

Patrick:

But I am charming.

Jamie: holding her hair up to cool herself

Not that charming… a moment of silence

Patrick:

I'm so lonely Jamie.

Jamie:

We all are, Patrick…

Patrick:

Why doesn't it seem that way? Everyone seems to have someone…

Jamie:

They probably just fell into each others lives by chance. That doesn't mean they want each other. It just means they have each other. Fantasy makes up for the lack of truth.

Patrick:

And here we sit in 'fantasy land'.

Jamie:

It's big business.

Patrick:

But love doesn't need fantasy… it should be overwhelming on its own.

Jamie:

You sure have lots of ideas about love. Why do you think about it so much?

Patrick:

It's all I want.

Jamie:

You have no idea what you really want.

Jamie climbs in his lap and removes her top.

Do you want me Patrick? Is this what you want?

Patrick: turns his head and grabs her waist

Not a dance… not now.

Jamie: grabs his hands and pushes them to his sides

Relax… just enjoy yourself. You want everything your way, nice and tidy. But the world is not tidy. It's wild and unpredictable. What's wrong? Don't I fill any of your needs right now? Are you nervous about me pushing you?

Patrick:

It's just that… I don't get dances.

Jamie: slipping down between his legs and looking up

So I've heard… but you're getting one now.

Patrick: laughing uncomfortably

Pain! Oh the pain!

Jamie: continues giving Patrick a dance

Just relax. I used to dance for you all the time… I enjoyed our time together, until I found out about your kids. I'm not going to take money away from them.

Patrick:

So, it was always about the money.

Jamie:

I work here Patrick. It doesn't mean I don't enjoy myself sometimes. But when I'm here, I work.

Patrick:

I know. I just wish that you and I…

Jamie puts her hand over his mouth. She dances on top of Patrick slowly and silently.

Jamie:

I've heard you have this thing, this rule-of-thumb about dances. You don't get them because you become a customer and lose a dancer's respect? Respect?

Patrick:

Absolutely true.

Jamie:

Sometimes it's just fun. You're not my customer… you're my friend.

Patrick:

I want to be your man Jamie…

Jamie:

You've changed a lot since I first met you.

Patrick:

How's that?

Jamie:

You used to be more direct, more honest. Now you seem to have hidden motives. You work people. You're a party guy now. You're one of them.

Pan comes onstage juggling balls and sits on the dais.

Pan: as a carnival barker

Step right up… welcome to the Permutation Parlor …go in as one person, come out as another!

Patrick:

I'm looking for love, Lynn. That's my only motive.

Lynn:

Open your eyes, Patrick.

Patrick:

But I want love from a woman who sees me. Not someone who needs what I have to offer. No ideas, no criteria. Where is she?

Lynn: kisses Patrick on the cheek and stops dancing

Love is how beauty feels… the nape of my neck… Amanda's laugh… the wonder in your children's eyes. It's not in one woman. Beauty is hiding everywhere. It reveals itself. If you care about yourself… it will always find you.

Patrick:

Do you love yourself, Lynn?

Jamie: after a moment of silence, rubbing Patrick's chest slowly

I need to go make some money. I'll come back by.

Patrick:

I'll see you a little later. We'll do a shot.

Jamie puts her top back on, gets up and leaves. Pan playfully throws a ball at Patrick - which he catches.

Pan: barking

Ladies and gentleman… we have all kinds of freaks! A man with no feelings!

Patrick:

I'm sincere.

Pan:

Look buddy. You don't need to snow me. No tits here son. It's a smooth move though, this friend gig. You just sort of sneak in.

Patrick:

Snow?

Pan:

Hey Patrick, I think your headlights are on.

Patrick:

Shit. Not outside. I'll just do it here.

He gets up and walks over to a mirror. Patrick pulls out a coke bag and pours some on his hand and snorts.

Damn… now I'm more aware of how fucked up I am.

Pan:

You're such a pussy. Pain brother. That's the key. If you keep playing Barry White, all you get in the end is Barry White. Clear?

Patrick:

Am I clear? snorts and wipes nose clean, stumbling a little

Pan: laughing and mocking Patrick's gestures

Am I clear? Yeah, except for your left eyeball hanging out and all this blood.

Patrick:

You know Pan, I feel like I've been on the lam all my life, pretending to be someone, staying one step ahead, fleeing into someone else before I get caught, before I get revealed. It's a strange feeling.

Pan:

On the run, huh? Who are you running from… me? Good luck with that. And what is the big revelation? 'Strange feeling'… being exposed.

Patrick:

Oh, speaking of which, I need to run by Exposé before close to talk to Ivy.

Pan:

Well, you have about an hour.

Patrick:

I'll just call her.

Patrick takes out his phone and calls Ivy.

Patrick: whispering at first

Ivy's getting laid… Ivy's getting laid... Hey baby, this is Patrick. Meet us out later. I just got back into town today. Give me a call. We'll probably be hanging out at the house. I'm at Sugars right now. I miss you.

Pan:

What was that all about?

Patrick:

I ran into her downtown one night with some guy. I walked by whispering Ivy's getting laid… Then I called her mobile and kept doing it - just to tease. She thought it was funny.

Pan:

walking down Sixth Street at night

so many people - and the lights flashing

she can't stop laughing, spitting beer and choking

her sequined shirt pulled tight

around her bulging waist

black pants, almost splitting with the fall

friends grab her and push her up against a lamppost

if God suffers through Man

he is truly suffering here

no need for clowns - there is no room

someone is handing out flyers

to a group of young tattooed boys

urging each other to bring attention to themselves

a writer is finding his way in the Forties

the boys are pushing for position

parading their stomachs like armor

pressed for battle and banter

they swarm teasing the man

grabbing his hat they all scatter

the man throws his papers down in anger

you fuckers! - the cockiness of Saroyan

gone with a hat

Patrick:

You know… there's a bartender at Casino who looks like you. Joe Lifto. Karabiners for earrings… you're a dead ringer.

Pan:

I can look like anyone Patrick. This is what you want to see. Your illusions about Death feed your guilt. Man is not good and innocent in a 'bad world'. He is guilty. That is what keeps him alive. All things pass away… not just the flesh, but illusions about love and virtue as well. Do not fall into belief and moral conviction. They pretend to spring from the heart, but they are of the head. They can only point at the truth.

Miracle walks up laughing and pointing offstage. Pan leaves.

Miracle: yelling out loudly - referring to an old man getting a lap dance

Patrick. Looks like grandpa is horny tonight!

Patrick: laughing, standing up to greet Miracle

You kill me man. That's hilarious.

Miracle:

Are we getting some rolls tonight?

Patrick:

If you want. I don't want to do the three-day thing though. I'm still recovering from that.

Miracle:

Nah, just one, maybe two tabs. Does Kofi still have that G?

Patrick:

That stuff is killer. I'm not sure I like it or not.

Miracle:

Shit man. It's all good to me.

Patrick:

What should we do later Miracle? You going to hook up with Lonnie?

Miracle: laughing

Nah. I'm single tonight. Looky for nooky.

Patrick:

Want to go find reality? Miracle's Reality Cab?

Miracle:

Good one. Nope. I want to stay here tonight. Let's have some fun here at Soogars - the new club in town.

Patrick:

You need to stop fucking with Lee's boyfriends so much. Driving them down into the hood looking for crack - showing them 'reality'.

standing up and imitating Miracle

'Want to see reality? - I'll show you reality'.

Miracle: laughing

It's fun though man. And there such idiots. Young, dumb and full of cum. Idiots. And get sick of those pussies with their hair spiked up and their perfume - their girls man.

Patrick:

Dippity dos. It is fucking funny. The looks on their faces. Priceless.

Miracle:

Actually it costs about forty bucks.

Patrick: laughing

Worth every penny. I may check out Expose tonight. See if Trish is working.

Miracle:

Man - she's a hot chick. Wouldn't mind gettin' some of that.

Patrick:

Stay away man - I saw her first. And - I like her a lot. But I have a feeling she hangs out because of the coke. She calls after work all the time. That's probably it.

Miracle:

They always do. Sucks - right?

Patrick:

Yep. And it's always hard to tell cause these chicks we know are always playing guys for money and shit - surprisingly we can't tell sometimes with drugs.

Miracle:

That's because we want them to believe they like us.

Patrick:

Imagine that. A miracle.

Miracle: shaking hands

That's what I'm sayin' brother.

Patrick:

Let's have fun tonight Michael. I'm sick of depressing shit.

Miracle:

You should call your wife tonight Patrick.

Patrick:

Thanks. That's what I'm talkin' about. Depressing. I'll think about it. The last time I called Jen she told me to rot in Hell…. I'd love to talk to the kids.

Miracle:

She is just afraid because you're not with her. You should be with her man.

Dina comes running out on stage.

Dina:

Patrick! Miracle! You need to help Ellie. Quickly! She needs someone to drive her to the emergency room.

Patrick:

What happened?

Dina:

One of her tits fell out! The seam broke.

Miracle:

What? You are joking?

Patrick: laughing

You've got to be kidding me… This place is a fucking circus! Have you tried using duct tape?

Dina:

Real funny Patrick. I'm sure she'll love you for that one.

Miracle:

Amanda. I just got here. Can someone else take her? If not, I will.

Dina: smacks Patrick as she leaves

I'll let you know… jerk.

Miracle:

Do we have a waitress, Patrick?

Patrick:

Yeah… Diane. Do you want to hit downtown after here? See if we can round some people up? Spiros should be hopping. This place is dead.

Miracle:

Yes, as long as we find some party favors. I would also like to snort off of that new girl's ass. Oh my god… I can't stop thinking of her.

Patrick:

Melissa? She has the best back dimples. I love that.

Miracle:

Hell yeah.

Angela walks up to the table and sits on Patrick's lap.

Patrick:

Hey baby, what's up?

Angela:

Work sucks tonight. No one wants a dance. Sucks.

Patrick: moving around to get comfortable

Man, Angela. Your ass is bony. You coming over after work?

Angela:

Do you need a ride?

Patrick:

No… Michelle is coming over and Miracle is driving.

Angela:

Oh… so are you Randy tonight?

Patrick:

Yeah… I am feeling a bit 'randy'.

Patrick and Angela hold up their right fists and smile.

Angela:

Imagine that. You crack me up Patrick.

Miracle:

What's that?

Patrick:

One night Angela and I were back at Victor's and JJ showed up sloppy drunk telling all these stories about her crazy night. It was pretty annoying. Angela and I started following all of her stories with Imagine that. Then we got tired of saying it so we just started signaling each other.

Angela:

Now it's ours.

Patrick:

I've got a good one for you Angela. I think you and Amanda have special powers. Amanda should be used in airports to sniff out guys who are carrying coke. Because whenever coke is laid out, there is always a knock at the door. You know, it's always Amanda. But if Amanda has x-ray vision, YOU can see the future. If Amanda is at the door, who's already in the room?

Angela:

Who?

Patrick:

You baby.

Miracle:

You are truly an asshole Patrick - a real dick. What are we going to do? Should I get a drink?

Angela:

I want one.

Patrick:

Angela, would you get us some?

Angela: leaving

Shots? I'll be right back sweetie.

Patrick:

Sounds good. My only plans tonight include taking Michelle to wherever we go after this. I finally got her to hook up a babysitter so she can hang out.

Miracle:

That's good. It's good to have a plan. All those nights we spent in the hot tub out at the lake house… Patrick, you are a nice guy and I enjoy spending time with you, but I would rather have some girls with us. Do you understand? We have to have a plan. It is good to have a plan.

Patrick:

Don't worry Miracle. I have a plan. I love you too bro.

Miracle:

Which new girl is Michelle?

Patrick:

She's right over there... looks like she finished early.

Miracle: getting up and leaving

Okay. I am going to take a piss. I'll be right back.

Michelle walks out looking down and counting her money.

Patrick:

Michelle. You're done early? Meet you outside in about thirty minutes?

Michelle:

Nope. I have other plans.'

Patrick:

Other plans? What the fuck? With some customer?

Michelle:

Just leave me alone Patrick.

Patrick walks away, then walks back up to her. He flips her off with his fist and pops her violently in the face. She falls backwards.

Patrick:

Fuck you bitch!

Michelle: she runs offstage crying

Fuck you asshole!

Angela: walks out with shots

Shit Patrick. What was that? Randy is definitely 'in the house' tonight.

Patrick: drinks his shot

I needed that. I'll ride with you Angela. Let me tell Miracle. Is Brandy still around?

Angela: drinks her shot and leaves in a hurry

Nope. She left… Jonathon took care of Ellie. I'll be about fifteen minutes.

Patrick: sits on the dais

Zero.

The colored lights go off. Patrick sits on the dais and snorts some coke.

When I awoke, my pillow was covered in blood, dried and trickling out of my mouth. A dead man perched beside his body. Vomit and glass scattered across my floor, I remember crying out and screaming for help. Unanswered, tired of enduring this pain, flailing about until I am truly nailed down, I beg for mercy, and get none. I open my eyes, in hope that this will pass. Cocoon. Cocaine. No Pain. It is all useless landscape.

End of Pain

Act II - Scene 2

Dance

I Must Not Think Bad Thoughts

Patrick is sitting at the table with drinks. Ivan walks up.

Patrick:

Inútil Paisagem. Elis Regina. You should hear this song. It's so beautiful. She once said, Between the wall and the sword, I am drawn toward the sword. With her, depth and beauty are one. No distinction. Women certainly hold ropes into the abyss. Unaware, they are there. We reach with ideas and reason; they provide holes to fall into, while we are looking up. Idiots. Or so it seems. It is so frustrating Ivan. I feel so drawn to women because of their darkness, not their light. I always become more confused. They want me to look at them and hold them, then fall away as if I was trespassing. I feel like I care, but they don't seem to notice. I want to love them, but I can't. I don't know how.

Ivan:

Hey sap, get it together. You're just out of your element. That's not a bad thing; your element possibly needed an overhaul. Now you just got to overhaul your perceptions, desires, and behaviors to accommodate that. We knew we were playing with fire getting used to the titty-hotties. I can't even bust a nut with a girl who is more than 6.8 pounds overweight - that's 126.8 if she's 5'7. Talk about acclimation. And that means I have to play with Spanky a lot more than I used to before taking Stripology 101. It's not all bad... we just recall the highlights and use those for our comparisons. Who's Elis Regina?

Patrick:

Ivan, marketing and maneuvering. Always. Don't you ever just feel like a puppet in this scene?

Ivan:

The idea is to make everyone else one. It's all just a big illusion. We're all puppets to varying hypothetical degrees. Just choose your path.

Patrick:

But there is only one path. That's all that occurs, and other choices don't exist because we can only go one way. People always think what if I had done this instead of that? But such a question is meaningless because it didn't occur. My point is that our happiness or fulfillment is not based on making the 'right' decisions or choosing the best path, it is completely how we live in the moment because that is all there is. My tracks in the snow are not me…

Ivan:

But that is all people can see.

Patrick:

You know, when you first started hanging out with the extended group, I couldn't stand you or Miracle. You had your little pack that followed you around. Sean, Donna, Maria, Rachel, the whole gang. Now I know them all of course. But you all seemed so cliquish and stuffy. Especially you… with your 'Lethal Weapon', Mel Gibson nervous-chatter going on. It was about the time that you and Lee split for the hundredth time. For some reason, she befriended me to help save her from 'Ivan the Terrible'. How ridiculous that was.

Ivan: as Riggs

“We both know why I was transferred. Everyone thinks I'm suicidal, in which case, I'm fucked and nobody wants to work with me; or they think I'm faking to draw a psycho pension, in which case, I'm fucked and nobody wants to work with me. Basically, I'm fucked.”

Patrick: as Murtaugh

“God hates me. That's what it is.”

Ivan:

“Hate him back; it works for me.” That was a great time. Every time we went out, it was twenty or more people. Pretty cool party gang we had there for a while.

Patrick:

Were you there that night when we had fourteen people in the hot tub? Four guys and ten girls? Ronnie said that it was like a junior high dance… all the girls on one side, all boys on the other.

Ivan:

I missed that one.

Patrick:

Crazy. I remember a few nights when you and Miracle were out at the lake. I thought Miracle was an asshole. He always seemed on edge. And you were always leading your entourage around like Spartacus.

Ivan:

No shit. Well, now you know.

Patrick:

Then there was that party out at Donna's. I had Amanda for the weekend because Kofi went to Houston. I thought it would be fun of course, but it turned out to be a lot of work. It was a Saturday night, we went down to Spiros and Amanda fuckin' disappeared on me with some dude. Funny, Adam was cracking up at my stress. Patrick's actually 'regulating' tonight. Then she started showing her tits to guys at the bar. Man. I had to stop three times on the way home just to tell carloads of guys they weren't getting laid.

Ivan:

That night! Fuck. My girlfriend was all fuckin' whacked jumping on that trampoline out back. I couldn't get her to stop. She was sloppy-drunk. What a shit night.

Patrick:

I came out back, you were sitting at a table, and I was snapping at Amanda about something. You said Looks like we got a lot in common Patrick.

Ivan:

Then we went inside and did some yeyo and we've been tight since.

Patrick: imitating Miracle

Do you yahoo?

Ivan:

Where the fuck has Miracle been? I'm going to give him a ring. See if we can get him out here tonight. Who have you talked too? How about Adam? Kofi?

Patrick:

Kofi said he was on his way. He should be here about midnight. So… what are we cooking up tonight?

Ivan: smiling

That reminds me. Remember that night we were tripping and stopped at the store to get ingredients for Maria's ginger soup? Someone told us we would get lost in the vegetable kingdom. Holy shit. The veggies pulled us in.

Patrick:

We wandered around for about a half hour without finding anything.

Ivan:

What made it worse was the mist spraying everywhere… we ended up asking some clerk to get us some rice and kimchee, then we left. She thought we were idiots.

Patrick:

And she was right. Hey… that was the same night Donna was joking about her and Maria giving me a double blowjob as a going away present.

Ivan:

Shit… I forgot about that. Donna has a way with words. Nice imagery.

Patrick:

Sure is. Let's stop on the way home. I could go for some soup.

Ivan:

Soup? Fuck the soup! I'm calling Donna…

Dina comes up and kisses Patrick, then sits on Ivan's lap.

Dina:

Hey. What's up for tonight?

Ivan:

Nada. What's up sweetie?

Dina:

Do you have a cigarette? I'm dying for one.

Patrick: passes her one

Yeah. Here Amanda.

Dina:

Patrick. That phone stuff the other night was weird.

Patrick:

Well, I called and didn't expect you to answer. I was going to leave a message for Amanda.

Dina:

So you had me hang up so you could call back and leave a message?

Patrick:

Yeah… so?

Dina: leans forward to light it with the table candle

Are you secretly fucking my voicemail? Freak. Hey, would you guys get me a shot?

Patrick: motioning Dina to his lap

Ivan, would you get Demanda a shot please? Hell, just get us a waitress. I guess we haven't been tipping too well lately.

Dina moves to Patrick's lap.

Ivan:

Sure Paddy… I'll be right back.

Ivan leaves to get shots.

Dina:

Patrick, there was this guy hanging out last night that was really cute. I wanted to do him, he had a great body… and he seemed really cool… but we were playing Nintendo and I was too drunk, but I told him I'd fuck him… weird huh?

Patrick:

So… get rid of asshole yet?

Dina:

I don't want to talk about this Patrick. You're the one being an asshole.

Patrick:

After what happened at Yellow the other night? Fuck Kofi.

Dina:

I was really drunk and acting like an idiot. And Kofi's pissed about the weekend.

Patrick:

You definitely were drunk. And taking off to buy coke in spite of him… that pissed him off too. He has to be the man.

Dina:

He heard about us being in bed together… even though nothing happened.

Patrick:

After all this time? When he's around, he doesn't care. It's all just part of the show.

Dina:

He gets that way sometimes. But he's ready to kill you.

Patrick:

Fuck him. That bitch wouldn't even hit me when I dared him to in the parking lot. I can't stand to see him yelling at you like that. He treats you like shit.

Dina:

Not always. Just sometimes.

Patrick:

If you need a place, you can always stay with me and Ivan.

Dina: trying to get up

Like that's much better. I need to make some money.

Patrick: holding her back

Do you need to raise bail again?

Dina: irritated

You're being a dick. I need to go.

Ivan returns with shots and they each do one.

Patrick:

One minute, Amanda. You've got to hear this. Last night, Adam had Franci's friend Tiffany cornered downstairs and was trying to get her into the bathroom. He got her in there, then he convinced her to take pictures of him nude. I'm not sure what the plan was there. So, she goes and gets her disposable camera and takes some pictures. We were just leaving and Tiffany was in hysterics. I asked her what was up;

she said she grabbed someone else's camera instead. So someone who was over last night has nude pictures of Adam on their roll.

Dina: laughing

Shit, that's funny. I have call Kofi.

Patrick:

Just wait for his collect call from jail.

Dina:

Stop it!

Ivan:

Are Kofi and Adam coming out here tonight?

Patrick:

Should be. Blackman and Robin? Unless they're going to Yellow.

Ivan:

Is Adam talking to you again?

Patrick:

Yeah, he goes through these phases of being pissed at me for some reason.

Ivan:

That's because you hit on all his old booty. That's why brother.

Dina sees someone, gets up and leaves.

Patrick:

I know. It's weird. I can't figure that out… speak of the devil.

Michelle walks up and sits on Patrick's lap.

Patrick:

Hey Michelle. You look nice tonight. I like your hair.

Michelle:

Thanks Patrick. It was a surprise running into you last night.

Patrick:

Do you hang-out at Lovejoy?

Michelle:

I shoot pool there a lot.

Patrick:

I love that crucifix behind the back bar. I always find myself fixated on it after downing a few Sampsons. You ever notice how fucking drunk everyone gets in there? I think that homemade brew is killer. In fact, I've never been in there past midnight. I think everyone passes out… and that banner under Jesus…

Michelle:

'I Must Not Think Bad Thoughts'.

Patrick:

I love that… Hey, I wrote something about you last night. Want to hear it?

Michelle:

Sure.

Patrick: pulls out a piece of paper and reads

She has a shot. I watch as she walks around the table eying her position. Michelle is wearing a black cowboy hat, carefully tilted on her straight, fine blonde hair. She loves short skirts, proud of her legs and tits. She knows her strengths. But her loneliness sits heavily upon her. It rests in her hips; it settles there. Often she turns inside, falling into poetry and poses. We got lost together a few times. She came out one night, rode out all drunk and naked in the pool. She always needed a ride, a night of being-on-the-road and Dylan. And on Bukowski - He must have been great in bed, look at his girls - and he is so ugly. Michelle knows ugly.

Michelle:

I certainly do. You know… I have you all figured out.

Patrick:

Then how come we haven't fucked yet?

Michelle:

You don't get it.

Patrick:

Do you get it Michelle?

Michelle:

Most of the time, baby, most of the time.

Patrick:

Always Bukowski.

Michelle:

He's awesome. Have you read much of his poetry?

Patrick:

Some. I grow tired of his obsession with filth and decay… like that is all there is. It is his world no doubt, but he seems so satisfied with it. Beauty seems to escape him… he sees it, but it is always just beyond his reach. And his aversion for the body keeps life at a safe distance. I honestly sense that he is afraid of loving, and he hides his fear with disdain for others and himself. He drowns it all in booze. Everyone is doomed… DOOMED. What's the point? He's gifted, but…

Michelle:

Some of his work is so beautiful though… love…

'when you take it away

do it slowly and easily

make it as if I were dying in my sleep instead of in

my life, amen.'

Patrick:

Dying in our sleep… love makes me panic.

Michelle:

Patrick… you know I would hang out more if you stopped doing so much shit.

Patrick:

Yeah… but whenever we are together, that's all we do.

Michelle:

My point exactly. You don't need it. Why don't you stop?

Patrick:

I'm not sure that I can baby.

Michelle: getting up to leave

You need to get away from here.

Patrick:

I'll talk to you later… come out to the house after work.

Michelle: leaving

I'll let you know.

Ivan:

I wish Michelle would hang out sometime. She's a hottie.

Patrick:

Yeah.

Ivan:

How's your wife Jen doing? …Hey, I've got a great Carly story.

Patrick:

Funny. Carly? What's up? I didn't think you two were even speaking.

Ivan:

I went to Houston this weekend with Russ who had a wedding to attend on Saturday. Well, I decided to go early on Friday and see Carly. I realize I've lost her mobile phone number and leave a message on her house line. Her house out-going message has her old mobile and her roommates mobile. I left a message on her roommates mobile too. I wait until I get there to see if she's passed out or something, so before calling her mom's house, I tried another number I have, because her mom goes to bed early and I was hoping to avoid calling her. So she's not there so I call her mom's and get her mobile... about 9:30PM. Not too late in my book. I leave her a message on her mobile that says something to the effect of call me soon please, I'm sitting at a random bar in Houston. About 11PM I say fuck it and call my dad to ask him to leave the door unlocked. He does and that's cool. I leave a note on Carly's door that says:

'Wow, amazing. Twice! Shellie would be so proud. Think she'll hit a double too? And what exactly is a home run to you two? I'm learning so much about the value of friendship. The quickest way to success is to double your failure rate. Well they're right again. Tell your mom I said thanks for the number and your dad I said bye. IV'

Patrick:

I can't believe you remember it. Sounds like she really blew you off.

Ivan:

Yeah, I memorized it... it was depressing. Well anyway, that night at 1AM she leaves me a message. I was asleep. She just started bitching about calling her mom so late and how her mom couldn't get back to sleep and her dad had a 2AM flight, which didn't exist by the way, and so on and so on. So I leave her a message about telling her mom to turn the ringer off and something about hoping her God exists so that when I die he and I can joke about her absence in Heaven. There was a burn in Hell in there too. She calls back screaming about me fucking a devilish stripper and such, so I hang up on her. She said she and her roommate were down the street at a bar waiting for me, and her ringer was off and such. So then I leave her another message about how I called her roommates mobile and her mobile, then waited until 11 before giving up and how that was the most pathetic excuse I've ever heard and that she's a fool for wasting my affection. And I think there was another burn in Hell in there too. That night Russ and I went out and had a blast. Dad's was great too... got to see my brothers.

Patrick:

That's cool… so much bullshit.

Ivan:

Anyway… I was in a chipper mood on Sunday morning after all. So I called and left her a message that I'd take an apology blowjob and nothing less to forgive her. Not to call until she's ready. Haven't heard from her yet. What a surprise. But who cares anyway... Shellie's back at Sugars. And she gave me the best stage dance the other day. And I'm out of here in a month. Off to Spain!

Patrick:

Right on… but that sucks about Carly. Man… you guys fight all the time.

Ivan:

She's such a cutie, and sometimes we really click, but she has all these self-image issues that just screw everything up. Then, she always gets me into those God discussions. Awful.

Patrick:

What did you say when you last broke up? I like you a lot, but you just don't bring enough to the table. That was cold.

Ivan:

Yeah.

Patrick:

Gee, I can't imagine why you two would have troubles.

Ivan:

Speaking of troubles, Sean got the shit beat out of him last weekend - his roommate jumped him while he was in bed with some girl - don't know why but he probably deserved it knowing Sean - he can be such a dumb ass sometimes. I know that's mean but he has a reputation for being a dumb ass dickhead - terrible combination of qualities. When you go back home, stay away from immature and crazy women - this will help you get going in the right direction. At least at first anyway - there's always a wrong detour that our group seems to find without even looking. So, cheer up my sad tomato - you're on the right track. You're writing, getting published, getting to see your plays performed - hell yes! You get to see your children frequently, and you have a good and real job. Quit doing shit for your ex unless she really needs it or starts putting out for you. Stop rearranging your life for other people unless it is your kids - they are the only ones who really need that and they are the only ones who really deserve it.

Patrick:

Yeah. I really miss them. But I can't go home right now because Jen would have me arrested. Funny, she doesn't trust me and I don't trust her. It's messed up. Neither of us will budge. So… Jen got a restraining order, Amanda hardly talks to me anymore, Angela's mad, and Brandy's pissed for some reason…

Ivan:

Well at least your psycho bitches are open about it. Mine think they're tricking me.

Patrick:

And lately, whenever I get in a fight with a girl, she never wants to talk to me again. What's the deal with that?

Ivan:

No power to speak first. They won't allow it.

Patrick: shaking his head

Bitches.

Ivan:

But we both love them. Can't live without them.

Patrick:

Did you ever hear what Nari told me one time?

Patrick speaks in a broken Indian accent.

Patrici, you are inexplicably, hopelessly drawn to the flame like a poor, unsuspecting moth.

Hey! What's that pretty bright light way, way out there? I gotta know!

Ouch, it's fucking hot!

Hey! What's that pretty bright light right next to me?

Ouch, it's fucking hot!

Hey! What's that pretty bright light right next to me?

Ouch, it's fucking hot!

Ivan: laughing

Immortality.

Dina returns and sits on Ivan's lap. Branda comes up and sits with Patrick.

Patrick:

Damn Angela, you look better every time I see you. Are you seventeen yet?

Angela:

You sick fuck. What's up? Can we hang out later? My new boy is pretty pissed-off about you and me spending time together, but I don't care. I just can't stand going home after work and arguing.

Angela:

Sure we can. I love being with you. Will you make me some French Toast?

Angela:

Of course. Hey… look at those young guys over there. They are so not twenty-one. And they're real nervous. I think they're up to something, don't you?

Patrick: laughing and tickling her

Angela, you're all coked-up, hanging with a guy twice your age. I think you're the one up to something. Hello… Toto… we're not in Missouri anymore.

Michelle walks up and hits Patrick.

Michelle: as she walks away

Is this your latest victim? Asshole.

Patrick:

Damn! What's she so pissed about? …You making any money tonight baby?

Angela:

Not bad. Speaking of which, I need to go… I just wanted to say hi. I'll see you later. I need to talk to you about something.

Angela kisses Patrick and leaves.

Ivan:

What's up with our little hoochie girl Michelle?

Patrick:

Psycho bitch… You know where Angela's from? San Marcos. The same place where Amanda sky dives. I hate the way they treat her down there. The dancers are whores thing. You know.

Ivan:

I know. Trying to get some - so what's up with Michelle?

Patrick:

It's pretty fucked up. After that night I popped her in the face, I came up here drunk as hell. I could barely hold myself up at the back bar. I look up and Michelle is sitting next to me. I told her how sorry I was and she told me to give her my keys. She drove me home that night. Pretty cool of her.

Ivan:

Sounds like everything's cool. What's the deal with those white boots?

Patrick:

I don't know. I think the long blonde hair and the boots are a package. She's from Miami. There's a lot of secrecy going on with her too. She has a boyfriend named Panther, who everyone here is terrified of. I met him at a party a few weeks back and we hit it off somehow. He comes in here with me sometimes, but I've been asked by a couple managers not to bring him in. He does seem pretty dangerous. And he hates Kofi.

Ivan:

Yeah, I've seen the dude. One mean brother.

Patrick:

And Kofi. I think he sees Kofi as 'Mr. Bojangles'. You know, dancing for the white man.

They both start laughing. Kofi and Miracle come walking up with drinks, each shaking hands with Patrick and Ivan.

Patrick:

Kofi!

Kofi: laughing

Gentlemen. I use that term loosely.

Kofi and Miracle get extra chairs and sit down.

Patrick:

Look at Amanda. She's beautiful, sad, manipulative, selfish, giving, spontaneous, loving, spiteful... she's a fountain. Do you see what I see - isn't it wonderful?

Miracle:

Right on brother.

Dina looks at Patrick for a minute, then Patrick flips her off. She flips him off, then starts sucking on her finger.

Kofi:

You're a fucking idiot Flanigan! You still can't figure out what is real. Legendary. Nothing but a pathetic loser.

Kofi flips his braids back and purses his lips.

Patrick:

Kofi, you can be such a bitch sometimes.

Kofi: pointing at Amanda

Has your wife met 'her' yet?

Patrick:

Nope. That would be interesting… not.

Kofi leans over the table to speak with Patrick.

Kofi: looks around secretively

Patrick. I have run into a proposition you may find interesting.

Patrick: leaning forward

Go ahead.

Kofi:

I ran into two young girls from out in the country last night, and they told me that they were interested in doing 'anything'… for some coke and a little bit of money.

Patrick:

What? Some coke and a little bit of money? Who were these girls? Speaking of which…

Kofi:

Just some girls. And the answer to your obvious question… of course.

Ivan: laughing

That's a trip. I'd just like to negotiate with them. What for what?

Patrick:

That's fucked up.

Miracle: laughing

Are they going to be out tonight? … I need a date.

Patrick:

I thought I was your date. pinches Miracle's nipple

Miracle:

Ow! Bitch!

Patrick:

Kofi, I heard this great joke on TV last night. Bill Maher. Remember when the Reagan Administration declared the 'War on Drugs'? Well, one plan they had was to convince the South American governments to employ crop replacement, growing chrysanthemums and bananas instead of coca plants. Have you ever tried to get a stripper back to your room with chrysanthemums and bananas? Needless to say, it didn't work.

Kofi: laughing

Chrysanthemums and bananas? God.

Patrick:

What's up Miracle Man?

Miracle:

Not much Patrick. How are you doing brother?

Patrick: holding out his arms

Hey… I'm at Soogars!

Miracle: laughing

That new club? Hey, I heard about you harassing some dude out at Bahama Breeze.

Patrick:

Oh that. Yeah, I was having drinks with Franci last Thursday before she had to meet some guy for dinner. You know how she is. She was spilling out of her dress like a great fiery ball suddenly tossed into the crowd. Men are always sliding up beside her offering drinks, talking shit, you know. Well, this guy had been hanging around for about a half hour or so, and was beginning to really annoy me, drunk as hell and hanging all over Franci. We had been buying each other drinks, you know, becoming real buddies. So, he's standing there with his arm around her and I said seriously Hey, buddy. He looks up with a worried look on his face. That's my wife you have your fucking arm around. He drops his arm slowly wondering what I'm going to do. Then I said with a smile That's alright though. Once in a while we go out and try to find someone to bring home and fuck her… Need another drink?

Ivan:

Shit.

Kofi:

You're an asshole.

Patrick:

Ah, he was out of line, being a dick. He knew there were sharks out in the water, but he came swimming out anyway.

Kofi:

So, speaking of Franci. Is she your 'pretend friend' now?

Patrick:

I thought you were my 'pretend friend' Kofi.

Miracle: laughing

Damn brother. That's cold.

Kofi: looking at Patrick with a smirk

Just remember one thing 'Mr. Saucer-eyes'… there is never a good reason to kiss a girl's ass, unless you are actually kissing her ass.

Patrick: high-fives Kofi

Good point. So Miracle. Is everything cool here since the Sean thing?

Miracle:

Yeah, I talked to Charlie, everything's cool.

Ivan:

The head-butting thing?

Kofi:

What?

Patrick:

Okay, picture this… Ivan is trying to bring peace to the house. Takes us all out to dinner, plays some pool, chills, everything was just peachy. But then… Let's all go to Soogars… that new club. And Ivan goes home.

Miracle:

What were you so pissed about Patrick?

Patrick:

You said all night that you had hook-up, then at the last moment, Oh… I have to go off with Lee. Bullshit.

Miracle:

I can't believe you're talking to me like that.

Patrick:

Believe it bitch. It's all about the love? What a load of crap.

Miracle: giggling

Then Sean runs up yapping in my face like a little dog… and I said, Is your little pussy damp yet Sean?

Patrick:

Then whack. You head-butted him… blood, screaming, managers. Hilarious.

Kofi:

You guys are idiots.

Miracle:

Let's get some shots before close.

Kofi: yells

What time is it?

Everyone at once...

Shot time!

Patrick:

Not me.

Ivan:

I'll pass.

Brandy, Jamie and Angela come onstage and mingle in 'tax line'. Tax line is where dancers pay the club their estimated taxes at the end of the night. The line forms to an imaginary window behind one of the mirrors. Miracle and Kofi get up and start flirting with them.

Brandy:

Get me one Kofi.

Michelle:

Me too.

Angela:

Three.

Angela smiles. Kofi counts everyone and leaves to get shots.

Kofi:

Shit. Where did they come from? I'll be right back… with about ten.

Patrick: looking at the girls

Man… Ivan. Look at all the cuties. These are good times for us. We are definitely hooked into some magic here. How long will it last?

Ivan:

With all this eye candy around, I'm back in Spain again. What a paradise. Next time you need to join me Patrick. I think I spent the first week's sunlight hours in the pool, slowly increasing my airtime until I acclimated to the heat. Eventually the dream of paradise - mountains running smack into beaches covered with sixteen year olds fronting their peach want-to-be grapefruit breasts, fish just as fresh as the aforementioned sixteen-year-olds' un-sunned slivers, and worries falling away like nearby waterfalls… ah… but I open my eyes and I am tormented by the titty-babies at Sugars.

Patrick:

Sounds like paradise Ivan. But for now…

Patrick points offstage.

Look at that… I just hate that fake lesbian shit.

Ivan:

You're kidding. I think it's great. I could watch it all night. And I have.

Patrick:

But they're using our desire against us Ivan. Those displays, grinding and kissing each other. It's so safe… a power play. They are cutting themselves and each other off from any possibility of intimacy. But maybe that's the point. I feel like some stupid dog standing here with my tongue hanging out, waiting for attention. It's pitiful.

Ivan:

You think too much. Just enjoy it. It's just a show.

Kofi returns with shots on a tray.

Patrick:

It's the context. Most of the time it happens, I feel like I'm being worked.

Kofi:

That's because you are always being worked Flanigan... Franci? You fucker.

Patrick:

Why yes, I did.

Kofi:

And you said What's in it for me? Idiot. I'll see you boys back at the house.

Everyone does a shot. Kofi leaves.

Patrick:

See you there, Kofi.

Ivan:

Well, here we are in tax line again, talking to sirens and trying to get them to come back to party. We're comedians trying to woo the audience… woo the poody.

Patrick:

Isn't so bad. Pretty good odds I'd say. The doors are closed. It's like we're one of them.

Ivan:

In more ways than one.

Patrick:

Some of my best material has been done in tax line.

Michelle:

Hey you all… I know a secret about Patrick.

Angela:

What's that?

Michelle: whispering

He likes to fuck little girls.

Patrick and Ivan together...

Damn!

Brandy:

No shit. That's a secret?

All the girls are laughing.

Patrick: embarassed

Well, I'm ready to go. How about you?

Ivan:

Definitely.

Jamie comes out crying into a tissue and looks into a mirror. Brandy, Michelle and Angela walk offstage talking. Patrick sees Jamie crying and walks over to her.

Patrick:

Hold on a second. What's wrong Jamie?

Ivan:

We'll see you outside Patrick.

Miracle:

Don't get hurt.

Ivan and Miracle leave. Pan walks on stage.

Pan:

He loves you Stheno, but he longs for Medusa.

Jamie:

Patrick, I need to talk to you.

Patrick:

Okay. What's up?

Jamie: still crying

I love you so much. I can't stop thinking about you, and I'm not sure what to do. I can't stand seeing you with other girls anymore… This never happened to me before, and I can't handle it. What can I do?

Patrick:

Oh Lynn. I've always loved you. You know how I feel. Can we talk about this when I get back from Chicago? You have my number. Please call me.

Patrick hugs her silently. Pan jumps up on the dais and swings on the dance pole.

Pan:

when you walk away

how close is close enough?

playing feelings like pieces

on bored faces and full pockets

baring hearts for money

Jamie:

I love you Patrick. she runs offstage

Pan: sits down on the dais

your glances will always haunt me

when close is close enough

just to walk away

The colored lights go out. Patrick moves around silently, occasionally snorting coke.

Pan: pulls a letter out and reads it

'Jen… everything has become so horrible between us. I'm not sure we will ever be able to talk again. I am so sad about everything. You really have no idea how much I love you, and always will. But I have to be able to have friends that I choose, not just ones that you approve of. You make assumptions about these people without even knowing them. Amanda and Franci are good friends of mine, not because they are beautiful, but because they appreciate my openness and honesty. They, of all people, know how much I care for you. I know you don't believe me, but it's true. It hurts me so much that you don't want me to be with you. I see you go to bed at night alone, and I want to be with you. But I know that you don't want me there anymore. You can't make demands on people and love them at the same time. People need to grow. More than anything else right now, I want you to hold me, comfort me and love me. I am very depressed and I am asking for something more in life. It appears that I am running away from responsibility, but I am not. I am running away from my old 'self', which is dying from suffocation. You curse me for growing Jen. I want you to come and grow with me. When you came down, I wanted you to meet everyone and to enjoy their company like I did. But you were so defensive about everything. You never gave it a chance. And we ended up fighting and all hope was lost. As always, as it is now, you know, things around here are alright until you start trying to wrap chains around me. I hid things from you because I knew how you would react. But actually, I don't hide them anymore. I have been faithful to you Jen. I love you. I want interesting friends, not midlife conformists from the neighborhood, who sit around and complain about the weather, the latest movies, books, politics, each other – boring. I want to hang out with real people, who for the most part are those that live under others' contempt. But they are real. And you would love to know them if you gave it a chance. There is nothing secretive going on here that can compete with your imagination. You are passing judgment because that is the safe thing to do. But because of this, we are losing each other, and we are losing our children. Yes, both of us… this mark will never leave them. When I need you the most Jen, you are shutting me out, you are not listening, you are closing up inside, and I am dying. No matter what happens, I will always love you. I want you to be with me, but you will not allow it. You want an image of me that is already dead. I am still alive Jen. Please love me for who I am, not who you want me to be.'

Patrick: snorting coke off of the back of his hand

Lies… all lies.

Pan walks offstage. Three minutes of silence.

End of Dance

Act II - Scene 3

Bondage

The Struggle of the Magicians

The colored lights come on. Patrick is sitting at the table. Ivan walks out to join him.

DJ: slowly over the PA

Party at Ivan's house tonight! Can you feel the love? The game is on. Gentlemen, give it up for Jamie!

Ivan: yelling

We have chrysanthemums and bananas!

Patrick and Ivan laugh - Michelle comes up looking to give a dance.

Michelle:

Do you guys want a dance?

Patrick:

Yeah. Right.

Michelle:

Fuck you Patrick.

Patrick:

What? What are you talking about?

Michelle:

You know. You come in here all the time, and I know you have friends here and all, but spread it around some. She walks off

Patrick:

Fuck me? What? What just happened here? She's nuts.

Ivan:

Who knows? Forget it.

Amanda walks up angrily hitting Patrick.

Amanda:

Duct tape?

Patrick:

Ow! Dammit.

Ivan: laughing

Spread the love brother.

Patrick:

So Ivan. There is a girl back home that's driving me nuts. It reminds me of your Shellie situation... maybe not that bad yet. Her name is Gigi. She's a bartender at a place I hang out at and we've become pretty good friends over the past month. I've always been attracted to her, but haven't really shown it. Not directly. We have been flirting quite a bit, but her intentions are not clear. She has been dating a guy for a couple years, and she broke up with him last week. So the flirting was rather harmless until now. She told me that she wanted to read some of my poetry, so I got some together.

Ivan:

What did she think of it?

Patrick:

She forgot it and it got thrown out! Pissed me off. She wanted another copy... so I made one. And she lost it again! She came up to me at a show last Sunday apologizing about everything. She claims that she is 'flighty' sometimes... but come on. That writing means a lot to me. She was at the show with some friends. I sent her a drink. She came over and said that I didn't need to buy her a drink because she already liked me. I told her it was just a gesture... to be nice, but she's right. I wanted her attention. She told me that she had been daydreaming about reading my poetry. This is crazy. I gave her my number and told her to call me if she was serious... not just playing around. She bitches about older men hitting on her all the time... and I don't want to fall into that bunch. And losing my writing twice is not encouraging at all. I am so attracted to this girl I'm squirming. If this girl is just playing... man… she is EVIL. I thought dancers were tough. Well... next week should be interesting. I'm going to throw a party for a friend of mine's band. Her best friend dates a guy in the band… she'll definitely come. I really don't need my heart stomped on right now. So… be like Steve McQueen. I got rid of all sexual desire; at least it appeared so... I have been patient as hell... at least two months. I did something excellent; talked about my kids... she wants to meet them... gave her some of my writing... but she LOST it... fuck. Now I guess it's time to flee... this is the tough part. I'm worried that she will hook-up with someone else soon... lots of predators out there.

Ivan:

Sounds like the same shit going on with Shellie. I can't figure out what the hell she wants. I care about her and it doesn't seem to matter. It's overwhelming sometimes. My point, it never goes away for people like you and I. We are always reading deeply, expecting decency, hoping for quality, longing for uniqueness, and appreciating these things when we find them. It is possible, that we are special and it confuses us when others don't see these things. But maybe, they're not ignoring. Maybe they're not hiding from the truth. Maybe they just don't see it. They are blind in some degree to the better things in life. Are we blessed? Are they punished? The age old debate of the train vs. the roller coaster.

Patrick:

So what's new with Shellie?

Ivan:

Well, I haven't had the talk that I wanted to have. Last Thursday I was downtown and heard from her at some point. I was running behind and she was kicking around Austin with nowhere to go. So she called Tom and said that she couldn't find me and was going to go by Club de Ville in the mean time. Evidently, she couldn't get into de Ville because she had lost her ID. So she headed back to Tom's and he wanted me to come over because I left him a nasty message. So I said no thank you, I was hanging out with Miracle. So Tom made Shellie leave and was trying to track me down to talk. At this point I feel too ridiculous to talk to either of them about it anymore. I left her a message apologizing for her getting caught up in the fiasco with him and I and that I wasn't up for a big talk at this point.

Patrick:

How did Tom get wrapped up in all this?

Ivan:

I'll tell you later. Anyway, I ate some roombas and went to Sugars and spent $146 on shots of Patron with Miracle and Sean! Then Lee called and flipped out and we got in a huge fight that included me mentioning that I was having second thoughts about being able to be what she wanted. We never finished that conversation, but I think my current plan of avoiding any huge changes in anyone's lives before I leave is best. I'm going to keep my eye on Tom... I feel like he can't be trusted while tempted by lust, although he is still a close friend, and Shellie half-flippy anyway. Oh well. Did I mention Carly is dating Shellie's ex-boyfriend?

Patrick:

Great… You sound wound up, big time. You lead a strange life, Ivan.

Ivan:

Man, I feel like I haven't slept in days. I'm fully optimized in every facet, many competing with each other. My nightlife, love life, work life, home life, exercise life are all in a sort of perpetually optimizing flux. If one needs more, another must give. Meanwhile, my subconscious, by definition... completely incomprehensible… and the deity that controls the volume knob of each is desperately trying to send me signals to turn everything down a notch and leave some room for contingency. I feel perfectly well, even ran three miles today, but I can just tell I'm about to get sick. I hope it's not sick in the head. Every time I start to fall asleep I wake up with a shake of some sort that I can almost see is the result of a feature of a bad dream such as falling off a cliff. But it doesn't occur as if I was never actually asleep. Maybe I'm daydreaming to death. Maybe I'm on the verge of becoming Ed Norton in the beginning of Fight Club. Perhaps the director programmed me?

Patrick:

Edge of a cliff? Nausea? Sounds normal to me. I think that the main problem is that we do not know ourselves and we are sure that we do. If one looks at ones own reactions and contradictions in character, it is obvious that there is no truth to this at all. There is continual frustration and feelings of being lost, overcompensation in behavior by trying to gain control over those things that control and manipulate us. Magicians. Magicians pull us through the world. At birth they take us by the hand and pull us everywhere, like a parent's hand pulling a child through a crowd, here and there, in and out, until death when they let go. We do not choose to follow. There is nothing in us that can choose. We are grasped by them, and go with their will. Desire pulls us into life, and shows us around, it is a spatial panorama of perspectives; time is the illusion that we grow, that we choose, but it is all in place from the beginning, here and there. We just need to become aware. Look at that dancer leading that guy to a table.

Ivan:

So, we are the magicians here. Two guys who appear to have way too much game. The chickies work here, party with us, live with us. We are their 'break table'. And we get by without throwing too much cash around like all those thousand dollar millionaires that flood in here.

Patrick:

Kofi is a great example. Futures trader? Come on. But the magician can be anything that moves us, people, principles, drugs, money. Almost anything.

Brandy walks out.

Ivan:

Groovy... Hey Brandy, come over here.

Brandy: comes over to Ivan

What's up boys?

Patrick:

Ladies and gentlemen, 'Miss Ravello Pass 2001' starts clapping

Ivan:

I guess you made it. Has Lee passed you her crown yet?

Brandy:

What an honor. I thought I was 'Miss I-da-ho'.

Ivan:

Hey… are you bringing back any cuties to play with tonight?

Brandy:

I think Ellie might come over, but I'm not sure.

Ivan:

Ellie never comes over. I think she has issues with me.

Patrick:

You're both control freaks. That's why.

Brandy:

Patrick. Thanks for being cool about letting me dance for you yesterday. I made a lot of money off that table. And I was so proud that you didn't get a hard on. You're such a good friend.

Patrick:

You're welcome… I think.

Ivan:

Brandy - always with the complements.

Brandy sees a customer and leaves quickly.

I knew that would get her attention.

Miracle and Kofi come out on stage and sit down exchanging greetings. Michelle comes up and hugs Miracle, then sits on his lap. They sit, chat and laugh for a minute. Patrick looks over occasionally.

Patrick: angrily

Hey Michelle. Fuck me? No, fuck you. You want to lower the bar on me? I'll lower the bar. I'm the fucking customer here. I come in here all the time and I have a lot of friends that work here. I come up here, spend MY fucking money, and YOU my friend will never be MY fucking dancer again.

Michelle takes off crying.

Miracle:

Patrick! Jesus Christ! What was that all about? She's our friend.

Patrick:

Fuck her. Giving me shit.

Miracle:

I was going to hook up with her tonight. Damn. Guess that's gone.

Kofi:

Flanigan. You are an idiot. A big fucking idiot.

Patrick:

How's that?

Kofi:

You can't tell the difference between what is real and what is not. That simple. Your stupidity is legendary.

Patrick:

Well, here is the problem with you Kofi. There is always this underlying chess game going on between us. In the beginning when we first started hanging out together, I was definitely a mark for you and Amanda. You were playing me, getting me to pay for everything. It worked to some extent, but I was always aware of your intentions, but I'm not sure that you were always aware of mine. You never expected me to become your friend. You didn't expect me to become close to Amanda. You always assumed you had complete control. I wish Ivan and Miracle could have witnessed our confrontation in the Yellow Rose. You were so damn mad. You couldn't even express why you were so mad. My point is, we always think that we know what is real and what is not real, but we can never be sure. It all depends on how we are interpreting things. And we usually see things the way we want to see them. So, what is actually real? My point? You don't know either fucker!

Kofi: looking at Ivan and Miracle

Well… this is fun.

A moment of uncomfortable silence.

Kofi:

What's up your ass, silly Irishman?

Patrick:

Lots of things. Fuck it. Let's drink.

Kofi: yelling

What time is it?

Everyone at the table...

Shot time!

Patrick:

Actually, I'm still pissed about getting fucked over the other night. Unbelievable.

Kofi: laughing and holding up six fingers

No shit? So what happened?

Patrick:

I was over at Lovejoy and I ran into this really cute girl named Holly sitting at the bar. She was reading the paper, and we started talking about what bands were playing that night. Turns out, she was just in town for the weekend. She works for HBO and she was here working on a documentary about gun control. Well, we hit it off right away… she told me all about New York and I went on about my situation, back and forth between Champaign and Austin. I told her about how exciting it was here, partying and all. Then I went on about chasing that girlfriend of mine to Greece, living in a cave… everything. We were having a great time. So… after about three drinks and an hour later, suddenly, we hear this voice. Hey bitch! We both look down the bar and there sits this pissed-off, streaked-hair Goth chick… Hey bitch, are you going to fuck this guy? Because if you do… you are the biggest fool in the world. I've never heard so much bullshit come out of one guy's mouth in my entire life. I was shocked. I said Do I know you? Are you Satan? Then, You're an asshole buddy. You're the type of name-dropping shit that we hate in this town. We just fell silent. I didn't know what to say. Totally slammed. We finished our drinks and left. She took a cab back to her hotel. Shit.

Kofi:

That's it. No comeback?

Patrick:

I was in shock.

Kofi:

Let's all go down there and find that bitch after these drinks. I'll slam her shit. What a cunt.

Miracle:

I'm in. Who the hell is she? It's a bar for Christ's sake. You're supposed to talk shit.

Kofi:

Damn Flanigan, you always have issues with people. Fucked up situations.

Patrick:

Yeah, too many. I think that without them I'd die. Somehow they give me hope.

Kofi: laughing

You bully people, that's all. The time that nineteen-year-old kid came up and got into your face? You laughed and said you could kick his father's ass. He didn't know what to do. Legendary.

Angela comes out on stage and to the table with shots.

Patrick: toasting

To Buddy and Al!

Everyone toasts and drinks...

Buddy and Al!

Ivan:

Who are Buddy and Al?

Angela:

I know. They're Patrick's grandparents.

Patrick:

You remembered. Nice.

Angela:

Weren't they the ones that had all their pictures taken in bars and at beaches?

Patrick:

Yeah… all that I saw. I had a record they recorded in a bar singing 'Beedle-um-bum'.

Patrick stands and starts singing and dancing with Angela.

Oh my Beedle-um-bum, come and see me if you ain't had none.

Make a dumb man speak, make a lame man run,

Sure miss somethin' if you don't get none,

Of my Beedle-um-bum, oh my Beedle-um-bum.

Everyone starts clapping. Patrick and Angela sit down laughing. They hold their right fists up.

Angela: looking around secretively

Have you heard about the Charlotte bullshit?

Angela:

What's your problem? I hate that chick.

Angela:

Well… you know Charlotte moved into our house last month. I can't believe Victor's fucking her. I don't know if I can stand it there anymore. I left over the weekend, and when I got back, all of my shit was packed-up in the garage.

Patrick:

What the fuck? What did Victor say?

Angela:

Shit, he's so whipped, what can he say? She is trying to talk him into putting his dogs to sleep because they don't get along with hers. It's ridiculous.

Patrick:

Damn… that sucks.

Angela:

I used to get along with her… when she didn't have Victor. Now she's a demon.

Patrick:

I can't even be in a room with her for more than five minutes. She just always pisses me off.

Angela: getting up to leave - straightening her dress

Never fails…

Patrick:

I know the answer, but I have to ask. Please hang out later.

Angela: smiling and looking around secretively again

How long are you in town?

Patrick:

Long enough.

Angela: leaving

See ya Patrick.

Patrick:

Later sweetie.

Ivan:

See you later Angela. What were talking about? Magicians?

Patrick:

The subtlest magician is the mind Ivan, which filters feelings so that they are not received by our emotions either correctly or completely. The mind stands at the door and categorizes and parries our incoming feelings into abstract perceptions. The mind becomes powerful because it is enlisted as a way of protecting us against negative feelings. It keeps us from getting hurt by diluting the impact. As soon as one thinks about how one feels, the feeling is gone. Unfortunately, this activity, while providing a somewhat stable existence, prevents us being completely in the world. The mind is the magician that filters impressions, which hinders our growth of being and thus understanding. It protects us from pain, but unfortunately, it protects us from pleasure as well. It's ultimate feat is that it convinces itself that the things in the world move us, not ourselves, so that we are left helpless in a world of outside magicians projected by the mind - the real magician. This is the true struggle, to get free from the absolute tyranny of the mind. Plato screwed us with Idealism. Caring is the only way around it.

Ivan:

Can we get a little more abstract here? Are you rolling or what?

Patrick:

I guess I'm doing 'what'. Want some?

Ivan:

Sure brother. Sounds like your magicians are hungry tonight.

Patrick pulls a bag of coke out of his pocket and hands it to Ivan. Michelle comes up and sits on Patrick's lap. She is so wasted she can barely stay awake.

Kofi:

Oh God… not this chick.

Miracle:

Jerry Springer chick?

Michelle:

Hey baby, what's up?

Patrick:

How are you doing?

Michelle:

How do they know I watch Jerry Springer?

Patrick:

Is he still talking to you through your TV?

Michelle:

Not so much lately. Hey… do you think you can get me some of that blue liquid G that is going around?

Patrick:

I don't know, I'll ask around.

Michelle:

So Patrick, are you happy with your life? I mean, is it turning out the way you want it to?

Patrick:

I suppose. That's kind of a weird question coming from you. How about you?

Michelle:

I wish I had a better kitchen.

Patrick:

A better kitchen?

Michelle:

Yeah… there are so many ants. When I put a piece of bread on the counter, the next time I look, there are lots of ants under it. Is that normal?

Kofi: looking over and rolling his eyes

Oh God.

Ivan: laughing

Normal? She's whacked.

Michelle:

What? What does he mean?

Patrick:

Just clean up more baby, it's not the kitchen.

Brandy walks up and says hi to everyone.

Ivan:

Brandy girl!

Patrick:

Damn Brandy, you look great tonight.

Brandy:

Thanks. That's a lot better than what the last guy said.

Patrick:

What's that?

Brandy:

Come here bitch, I wanna fuck you in the ass!

Everyone laughs.

Michelle: in a baby-like singing voice

Brandy, Brandy, I like Brandy, but Brandy doesn't like me.

Brandy: leaning over the table towards Patrick

Patrick, I'll tell you what. You can fuck her, but please… please… let ME kill her.

Brandy walks away.

Michelle: kisses Patrick and leaves

I need to get back to this guy. See you Patrick.

Kofi: getting up and leaving with Miracle

I need a drink. Miracle?

Ivan:

I can't believe you hang out with that chick.

Patrick:

She cracks me up, and drives Kofi insane.

Ivan:

Some sandpaper for Kofi. I'm hip.

Patrick:

You know Ivan, it doesn't help much hanging out here either. This is definitely a sinking ship of magicians. So what do you think of my hypothesis?

Ivan:

About what? There are so many.

Patrick:

Caring.

Ivan:

At first, I thought being cared for was also part of the joy of or meaning of life, that the exchange is in fact what makes us happy. However, I think that the lack of caring or not feeling cared for does not bring out the opposite of joy. It's the shock factor from the betrayal in expectation that causes pain. Or realizing that your caring effort was not appreciated means that it was in vain, and hence your joy was unwarranted. However, I don't know that being cared for is really that gratifying. To back that up, I'll use an example or two. My mother does not seem to care at all about whether or not I care back, but simply loves to do things for me. She just likes to take care of me. I don't have to give her a Christmas present, only show that I appreciate and like the ones she gives me. Simply demonstrate that her effort reached its goal. This makes her amazingly happy. Lee is another example. She loves me to death and that doesn't seem to make me happy. However, when she's allowed to love me, she's completely happy. For example, since we've been 'dating' she hasn't been drinking or really even partying at all. When she's not allowed to love me, she gets fucked up every night. This is likely a form of escape from the reality that she can't love me. I don't think it's a coincidence.

Patrick:

Not a coincidence. She doesn't want to think about not being with you.

Ivan:

Exactly. However, not too much is accomplished by understanding this theory, unless we can practice controlling the pain of betrayal. We know we love to love. But it's still very dangerous if it goes unappreciated, because the pain of betrayal is still very real. And that is a possible outcome. It's by reaching some sort of Zen state that we can love and have it be wasted, in vain, unappreciated, or ignored and still receive the joy from it that we should strive for. I think we love children so much because if they don't return our love or don't notice it we don't necessarily take offense or take it personally because we assume it's just the blissful innocent nature of children. So somehow we have to think of everyone as children, which sounds faintly similar to something out of the Bible. Hmm.

Patrick:

But is it really wasted, in vain, or unappreciated? And why does it matter? Who gains? Another problem is that no one really sees anyone else at all. We just see reflections of ourselves in each other. So we're locked in, as long as we live like we're immortal. We think that we are seeing the world and that we are able to change it, but it is only ourselves that we see. If we change ourselves…

Ivan:

Not sure we need to do that. All these young hotties! How to get them? We have to figure out a way to accept, not medicate or defer but accept, that we will not always be attractive to younger women. Or we could try to get rich and buy our way into their pants, but there are serious pitfalls to that strategy... such a probable failure, effort, and being taken advantage of. Somehow there should be a way of making this transition gracefully and I'm hoping some ideas will come to me in the years to come... but the only one's I've got cost money as well. I think that's where marriage and family come along… I think these things distract you from the earlier, more physical rewards and you are supposed to get caught up in a different kind of pleasure such as watching the kids win football games. But the idea that the attraction to hot young women will go away or even should is kind of ridiculous. Yet that's what society wants or says is true. Whatever!

Patrick:

It doesn't go away buddy. That desire is somewhat immortal in my life.

Ivan:

That reminds me of a quote I saw on a bathroom wall. We all long for immortality, yet we don't know what to do on a rainy day. Not sure if that's related.

Patrick:

But is immortality really something to desire? Especially when we are wearing masks?

Ivan:

What do you mean exactly?

Patrick:

Have you ever considered the danger of wearing these magicians' masks? Lately, I am really getting concerned about something that I read probably twenty years ago. If there is anything that can be considered esoteric about working on oneself, this points to its justification. When the actor begins to have glimpses of the reality that he is only acting, he begins to question what is real inside of him, what is behind the mask. These ideas in themselves are harmless, but when a person starts applying them... putting on other masks, letting creativity mold themselves and others, all of this can provide so much momentum that life becomes dangerous. Because evidently, the buffers that shield us from seeing certain truths are so strong that there is no danger at all in ordinary life. We remain asleep with ease. That is also why reality confrontation is somewhat allowed in the church because their buffers support the illusion while providing seemingly meaningful answers. I am beginning to see caution signs more and more... be ruthless, yet cautious... another example of living on the 'razor's edge'... either way by itself is destruction.

Ivan:

We both think way too much… or drink too much.

Patrick:

You know, I heard an interesting take on this intellectual treadmill that we're on. Consider the relationship between a person's thoughts, feelings and behavior. Most people assume that thoughts change feelings that in turn change behavior. But look at the opposite… behavior changes feelings that change thoughts that in turn change behavior. It makes sense, assuming such divisions exist. And when you try to go the other direction, you get stuck.

Jamie walks by messing with her hair.

Patrick:

Jamie, come here for a second.

Jamie: sitting on his lap

Hey baby.

Ivan: leaving

I'll be right back.

Patrick:

I want to talk to you about what happened last time.

Jamie:

What do you mean?

Patrick:

You know. When you came up as I was leaving and you told me you loved me.

Jamie:

What are you talking about?

Patrick:

You said that you couldn't stand to see me anymore with other girls.

Jamie is looking down, fumbling with her top nervously.

I didn't imagine it all, come on. You said you loved me!

Jamie slaps him in the face and walks angrily offstage. Patrick sits quietly rubbing his face.

DJ: slowly over the PA

Gentleman, a warm welcome for Destiny. Deep inside the beast…

…Jamie does love you Patrick.

One minute of silence, the colored lights go off. Pan comes out, smoking a cigarette.

Pan:

How are the magicians treating you tonight Patrick?

Patrick:

Which ones?

Pan:

All of them. They wear many masks, but they are always there; pulling you out of yourself. You are powerless, yet convinced that you are in control. It's all magicians, a great con. They want you to share their pain. You try to control them by becoming them, but it is impossible. You can identify with them, but never be them.

Patrick:

So… how do you handle them Pan?

Pan:

The same way you do. I pierce them and they all fall into line like good soldiers.

Patrick:

Tax line?

Pan:

Exactly. Actually, they love you quite deeply.

Patrick:

Who does?

Pan:

Only the most powerful. But they are not drawn to strength… only weakness. They only love those they can help.

Patrick:

All I feel is pain.

Pan: sitting on the dais

Clues abound Patrick. All around.

Patrick sits at the table, pulls out a piece of paper and starts writing. Three minutes of silence.

End of Bondage

Act II - Scene 4

Narcissa

Death Brings a Gift

Patrick is sitting alone at the table. Pan is sitting on the dais.

Pan:

whispering to me

that everything will be alright

tonight clouds move across my eyes

hiding the moon you left too soon

for me to know just why

pulling me beneath you

tossing hair against your back

blood rushing under your skin

rising up blushing losing my breath

four feet tremble inside my hands

I can see you. I want to be you

and you smile

waking me from a dream

so alive waiting for you to appear

will I see you tonight?

closing my eyes

whispering to me

that everything will be alright

Ivan walks out. Pan leaves.

Patrick:

What will I do without her?

Ivan:

You never had her brother. I told you that she's not your friend… she means you harm. You're just shooting too high.

Patrick:

Fuck you man. I just want to be able to talk with her. I do love her, and I know she doesn't love me. I can live with that, just as long as I can see her.

Ivan:

You're lying to yourself. You want to poke her, and you'll never get past that.

Patrick:

That 'I told you so' demeanor really pisses me off. I scared her because of my honesty. I don't worry about scenarios and outcomes because they don't matter. I would rather be myself, and if she can't deal with that, I don't want to be with her. See, the point to me Ivan is that if you don't take risks, then you end up with someone or something you really don't want.

Ivan:

But you have to play the odds Patrick. These young, little honeys want action, either in the form of looks or money. It's all about minimizing our losses.

Patrick:

This isn't a business plan.

Ivan:

But generally, people are looking for certain desirable qualities.

Patrick:

But it can't just be reduced to marketable qualities. If someone is attracted to you, they are attracted to all sides of you. If you don't reveal yourself, what does anyone have to go by? You like me because you know my bad and good sides. I don't offer any value to you any other way, except by being honest. It is the only way to go deeper in life. Have you found anything worth your time yet? Do you think it will fall into your lap given enough time? No, it won't. I fell for Gigi and I feel great about it. I'm not sitting back feeling bad that I didn't maneuver correctly or saying she's too young for me or she's too beautiful for me. That's all bullshit.

Ivan:

I just hate to see you slammed by some chick.

Patrick:

And the stalker label she has decided to put on me. It sucks.

Ivan:

Stalker? As for whether or not you're guilty of stalking, you did say that to some degree you want to see her and want her to see you. I guess that's an additional motivation to go to the bar, but the fact that it's the cooler bar and that your friends are there is also enough to motivate you to want to go there. Next time you see her, you need to say something like…

'Hey, I never really wanted to get into this situation with you. Obviously I read into something, perhaps I wanted something that was out of the question, but I'm over it now. Could you please quit making a scene out of my nightlife and let me hang out with my friends when they're at your bar. I'll avoid your area if it helps.'

Say it rather candid like, so that if she says no, then she is obviously perpetuating the event and isn't mature. Might work. And it might save your pride. But can you really go there without wanting to see her? Can you avoid her side of the bar? Can you avoid eye contact, even if she's looking at you? I realize that would be hard for you, but that's the goal.

Patrick:

It's not stalking Ivan. It's just her way of making this situation public, labeling it 'stalking', so that she does not need to accept responsibility for her actions. And she gets a ton of attention in the process. I'm really getting tired of not being able to communicate here.

Ivan:

Well I'm glad you're getting fed up. Of course, you may want to look into that stalker thing again. I could continue to say the eventual outcome of the stalker and stalkee relationship varies. 44% of the time, the stalker will move back to Austin so that he is surrounded by wackies, thereby revitalizing his reputation by virtue of comparison. 52% finally get fed up, in which case the stalker will stalk the stalkee into an alley and plead for forgiveness before tying up the stalkee, coloring her hair to match that of his last girlfriend's, which also matches his mother's, sexually abusing her for six to ten days and then stabbing her to death. 4% of stalkers eventually win their respective stalkees confidence, after which they get married, have one child, get divorced, and move on.

Patrick:

You're nuts. Seriously, if you sit back and don't pursue what you want because of probabilities, life sucks... because all you get… is regret. The one thing I am sure of is that I touched Gigi somehow and she lashed out at me in fear and anger. I am not sure why she reacted so strongly, and I may never know. But I do hope that this will open something in her heart. I care for her a great deal and I probably always will. She's extraordinary.

Ivan:

Victor and I get along because we have a feel for what is possible and what's not.

Patrick:

I find it amusing that you hold yourself and Victor up as examples to live by. Are you guys really happy and satisfied with the way you live and what you have? To tell you the truth, Gigi may look at me as a forty-two year old, with three kids, but she also looks at me as someone who is offering more than she can handle... depth and love. Ivan, there was a relationship growing here and it was real, everyone saw it. I just acted on my feelings and she got scared because she is not sure how she feels about me and I am not safe. All of her friends are 'safe'. They all kiss her ass and tell her what she wants to hear and protect her. But this is not what she really wants. But I also realize that it may not be mine to give either. I may never see her again. But she knows the truth, how I feel and what I expect out of life. I made an impact and touched a nerve. This is very similar to my situation with Jen. Jen thought that she needed to ban me from coming back home because she was and is afraid of how she feels for me. I was very surprised that Gigi banned me from the bar and basically turned a lot of friends against me. I was really on fire that night. I was ready to move on after the party Thursday night. But she retaliated and made it worse. She knew that it would infuriate me to have me banned. She wanted to hurt me because I hurt her. She could have let it go, but she didn't. She knows that I am not a physical threat to her. We've been friends since April. We just never got this close. I have no regrets. In fact, I ran all over town that night freaking out, asking girls how dangerous I appeared to be. Of course, anyone who does this might be, but I'm not. What about Dean and Brando? Do you think that they sat back and discussed outcomes and probability? No regrets Ivan. I will live with the consequences of being myself. The rewards are along the way, not in what I eventually find or don't find. I won't settle for less.

Ivan:

You are stubborn, that's for sure, my little Buddha. And it is obvious that she is afraid of you. As for whether or not your actions and reactions are justified or derived from being a bit crazy. It's usually somewhere in between. That's my new expression for my goal in life. Passion and crazy run hand in hand. Justification motivates passion, great. So I doubt you'll find a black and white answer. If you could keep it together long enough to ignore Gigi, I think that is her Achilles heel. Of course nobody ever believes my methods and sometimes they don't work and even backfire, but it's not all bad.

Patrick:

I need a fucking drink.

Ivan: getting up

I'll get them. Bass?

Patrick:

Corona, and a shot of something. smiling Remember that time Ronnie and I asked for Coronas at Sullivan's? That snooty bartender… I'm sorry sir, we don't serve Mexican beer.

Ivan: laughing

That's alright… we're not Mexican.

Miracle walks up. Ivan leaves.

Patrick: hugging Miracle

Miracle… what's up man? squeezing him a little Have you been working out?

Miracle:

Hey... cut that shit. What are you and Honky steaming about?

Patrick:

It's just me. Ranting about that girl back home.

Miracle:

Forget that bitch man. Do the 'honky dance' and forget your troubles.

Patrick and Miracle start dancing the 'white man' dance. They both laugh and yell…

Honnn…keeee!!

Miracle: sitting

So when did you get into town?

Patrick:

About three hours ago.

Ivan comes back escorted by Angela - his arm around her.

Angela:

What do you guys want?

Ivan:

I'd like a Stoli tonic with a lime twist and Patrick would like a Corona.

Miracle:

Mexican? … Y tres. No, four shots of Patron. Thanks darlin.'

Angela leaves to get the drinks.

Ivan: sitting down again

Okay, here are some thoughts. Well, I remember your theories about love were contradictory to mine. I rolled them over at that time, hoping to find consistency, purity, and truth. Stacked them up against my luminance and companionship combination theory and I decided that I was still closer to accurate. It's odd that both arguments seem so equally plausible. Of course there are exceptions to every rule, loopholes in the law, but in the end these amount to nothing more than ploys and excuses used to make everything feel better. The logic I used to prove I wasn't insane and that your clearly supportable theory was actually a psychosomatic request for meaning, was that the support for your theory was inherently positive in nature, a good story if you will, another happy ending, and therefore supported by one's own hope for a better, more meaningful life. Kind of like how I wish God existed... it sucks thinking about the end without an afterlife. However, my theories were more scientific, depressing, evident in social interaction, and did not imply that man and womankind were more than just slightly more evolved than the rest of nature. This is my stance, it's all chemicals and the more you interact, the more 'love chemicals' are exuded in the mix. But, like most drugs, it requires more and more to keep the exciting level sustained and if you don't or when it crashes... the result is a newer low to compensate the previous high... thereby balancing it all out. Nature is in balance. Hence, it's very scientific and logical, and thus seemed more likely to be truth than what I wish it were. And in line with my opinions of drug use, one cannot get too involved with any particular drug before it wears itself out. The best option is the try them all a little, narrow down the list of hopefuls, see if we can modify them to eliminate as many of the negative side affects as possible and enjoy them as long as we can. And then move on to the next one until it feels like it's out of juice... eventually, it seems, leading back to the beginning. We've got to lengthen this list!

Miracle:

Man, what are you guys on? Let me have some. I need to lose my mind too. I should've asked Angela to bring back some oxygen, my tank's getting low. laughs

Patrick:

Yeah, let's get some dancers over here. I'm going nuts.

Ivan:

At least we're not like Miracle. He's hung up on anybody he kisses once.

Miracle:

I wasn't that way after kissing you Honky, but you're still my bee-atch.

Patrick:

So... I had this revelation of sorts last night. Our life is a direct reflection of who we are and how we live. Change only occurs through the relationship between our world and us, not just one way. We cannot just change the world or ourselves. We can only see ourselves by contemplating our world. If we live without passion, intelligence and care… we may complain about not meeting strong, passionate women, but that is because we are not that way. We just don't see the truth of it. We see the emptiness of ourselves in our world and we are terrified because that is what we are. The Narcissus myth runs much deeper than I ever imagined. The reason I find myself surrounded by strippers is because I am a 'stripper'... in a psychological sense. I can work tables with the best of them. I'm just like them. Manipulative, self-serving, living 'outside of myself'; I am a stripper towards each of them. I just don't work for money. I work for youth and beauty. Their needs are different. They are centered in the body… you and I, in the head. Where are the feelings? No one knows. We are revealed to ourselves through what we see around us. We attract the world according to who we are. The dilemma... we only feel a lack of depth or connectedness, which masks itself as a need for change. And we think we can achieve this by proper action. But the only way out is by going deeper and by living more honestly. If we care about ourselves, others will care as well. If we dig a hole deep enough, all those around us will fall in. And we will not be alone. We never are.

Ivan:

Well, I need to grab some youth and beauty myself.

Patrick:

And what about these strippers? It's not a coincidence that these girls spend most of their time hanging out with guys their father's age. It's not just the money; they are comfortable here. And after going to a few of my daughters' dance shows, it's obvious that we encourage them to perform. I'll bet that most of them had good relationships with their dads. But a parent that becomes distant from his or her partner tends to seek those needs elsewhere… even in their children. Look at my relationship with my mother. I'm the same way. My dad left my mom and for about twenty years I was her emotional partner. She turned to me. And when she died, I needed someone to take her place. Do you think that it is a coincidence that you and I hang out with these girls? They want to help daddy and we want to help mommy, and we end up running right into each others' arms.

Ivan:

Pulled out of the Matrix at an early age…

Miracle:

That's pretty fucked up. I just want to get a dance.

Ivan: laughing

I just want to poke 'em.

Michelle waitress walks on stage.

Patrick:

Michelle!

After getting her attention, Patrick gets up and hugs her for a while.

It never happened baby. It never happened.

Michelle: looking down teary eyed

Okay.

Michelle walks offstage. Patrick watches her.

Ivan:

Patrick, thanks again for defusing that fucked up situation with Matt last Friday.

Patrick:

Sure man. It had to be done. What's that guy's deal anyway?

Miracle:

Good thing I wasn't here. That asshole would be dead.

Ivan:

I mean… how ridiculous? You show up at someone's house at three in the morning at a party. You have nine guys with you and you are threatening to kill everyone in the house. You bust through my door, Carly is freaking out, I'm freaking out. Then we go to the bathroom to 'discuss' things. Evidently, he has heard that I have been talking shit about him.

Patrick:

But it was me. He really has a problem with me.

Miracle:

So what happened exactly?

Patrick:

I got into the bathroom, and calmly said Hi Matt, how's it going. I hear that you're planning on killing everyone in the house. How exactly do you plan on doing that?

Ivan:

So Matt loses his train of thought completely.

Patrick:

Matt? Do you have a plan? Because those nine guys downstairs look confused. Then, the three of us walk downstairs; the whole time I'm following, telling him he has to leave right away. We can't get him or his buddies to leave; then the cops show up. Well, we don't want the cops to intervene because of any drugs people might have in the house, so I just keep badgering him. Then Kim was rolling and freaking out. So I yelled at her to go to my room. Later she told me how much it turned her on. Patrick, you never talked to me that way before. These chicks.

Ivan:

Eventually, some dude in an Armani suit shows up and orders him to get out of the house. Real bizarre, I can't stand having all these thugs around. Puts a damper on everything. And Lee has to be more careful about inviting people over.

Miracle:

What's going on between you and that guy, Patrick?

Patrick:

Well, a few months ago I was bird-dogging Matt's girlfriend Samantha. She came over a few times, and it looked like things were going well. So, one night she asked me to wait for her outside after work. I sat in my car outside Sugars for a few minutes, then Matt comes up banging on my window. He shouts You waitin' for Samantha? I said Yep, how about you? Why don't you jump in and we'll wait for her together. He was pissed. He got inside and asked You fuckin' Samantha? And I said not yet.

Miracle:

Damn, Patrick.

Patrick:

So they left, then about 4 AM, Samantha calls and wants to know if I want to come over to Lee's apartment and party with them. I said Sure and headed over. About 5 AM, there is a loud knock on the door. I answered it and it was Matt. Man, he was fuming. He was there with his brother, and I was stoned, so I took off as quickly as I could.

Ivan:

Ever since then, we hear about Matt 'having it out' for Patrick. Beer-bottling guys from behind is his forte. You should be careful Patrick.

Patrick:

Nah… I told this one girl that in order to get off lately, I need the fear of death. Samantha is hot as hell. I wonder if she's working tonight. Matt's just pissed because Samantha has been into three-ways lately, and he hasn't been involved. Damn! That's all she talks about. Watching her man fuck another girl.

Ivan:

You're insane.

Kofi and Miracle walk up, bringing chairs over to the table with them.

Kofi:

Insane in the membrane!

Everyone exchanges greetings.

Kofi:

Miracle is an amazing driver. Holy shit.

Ivan:

There was that time he tried to swerve around me and flew off the road, but enough of that.

Kofi:

That was because you were being an asshole. Listen. Miracle bet me that he could make it from the lake house to the store in under two minutes. I have never made it in less than five, all those winding roads and shit. No way. Well… how fast did you make it in Miracle?

Miracle:

Two minutes, ten seconds.

Kofi:

Legendary.

Patrick:

Well, he went to evasive driving school in Paris. What do you expect?

Ivan:

And with that diplomatic immunity of yours Georgy, I think we need to discuss some employment opportunities that involve crossing the border.

Everyone laughs.

Kofi: laughing even harder

So Miracle. How's Trish?

Patrick:

Fuck you Kofi. turning to Miracle So? How is Trish, Miracle?

Miracle:

Man, you can't blame me Patrick. She threw herself at me. Practically begged. I mean, if they just jump in my lap, what am I supposed to do?

Patrick:

Think about me, you fucker.

Miracle:

I'm sorry Patrick.

Patrick:

No you're not. You're not only lying to me, but to yourself. You don't give a shit. She's just another fuck to you. You're always going on about 'love you brother this', 'love you brother that'. Bullshit. You ever think about why you are always going on about love and brotherhood all the time? You think it might be some compensation for not feeling anything at all… except frustration? Just maybe? Just to ease the guilt?

Miracle: shaking his head

Patrick.

Kofi:

You should talk, dick. Have you been my friend? Full of love? What? I go to Houston for the weekend and ask my 'friend' Patrick, Could you watch out for Amanda while I'm gone?. What an idiot I was. Hand her over to the wolf. You would think I was from the Midwest with my big 'saucer eyes'. What kind of friend were you to hang out and try to fuck Amanda all the time? Ever think of that? Or are you just too busy showing other people their faults?

Patrick:

At least I didn't drag her down the street by her hair.

Kofi looks up silently at Patrick and walks away in anger.

Ivan:

Okay guys. Let's chill.

Patrick:

I'm done chilling Ivan. I'm sick of all this shit. After Kofi assaulted her, everyone came to me and said Let's all be friends, blah, blah, blah. Let's just make up and forget it happened. Fuck that. Then there was that bullshit over Charlotte. The girl shits for guys on the internet for Christ's sake. How can you hang with a chick that does that and pretend that everything is cool? Everything is not cool. I can't pretend anymore.

Miracle:

Why does it matter now? It never mattered before.

Patrick:

I don't know. I'm just getting saturated with all of the bullshit. I can't be in a room with Charlotte for more than five minutes without exploding. The first time I met her; within ten minutes she was yelling at me and kicking me out the door. How could Victor let her treat his friend like that? Doesn't anything mean anything to you people?

Miracle:

We're all friends, Patrick.

Patrick:

What does that mean exactly? I can't figure it out anymore. Have we all just agreed to support each others' lies and to entertain one another as much as possible?

Ivan:

You're just getting frustrated about everything. We all get that way.

Kofi: walking back over

You're just being an asshole and your blaming everyone else.

Patrick: angrily

No! I've lost everything, and I'm not supposed to be upset? My wife won't talk to me anymore. My kids probably think I'm dead. Maybe I should shove even more shit up my nose. Would that help? Or maybe I should drop some rolls and pretend that I care, while hanging out with a bunch of teddy bear toting high school girls? Will that get me over this hump? Friends?

Everyone is speechless. Dina walks over.

Dina:

Patrick. You have to talk to Michelle. I think she's really fucked up. She keeps mumbling stuff about a cult being in here and they are trying to force her to join.

Patrick:

What? Is she nuts? Tell her to come over here.

Dina goes and gets her. Michelle comes out and sits on Patrick's lap.

Patrick:

What's wrong Michelle?

Michelle has been crying. She lights a cigarette.

Michelle:

I see what they're doing. All of them… I'm not stupid you know.

Patrick:

What are you talking about?

Michelle: smiling

They're all evil And they won't get me. Not me.

Patrick:

What have you been crying about?

Michelle gets up and points all around her.

Michelle: starts crying

All of you fuckers! I know what's going on!

Patrick:

If you talk to me, maybe I can help.

Michelle puts out her cigarette and immediately lights another.

Michelle: laughing and sitting down

Just shut up and buy me a shot.

Patrick jumps up and shoves her to the floor.

Patrick:

What? Buy you a shot? Fuck you! Who do you think I am? Some fucking customer?

Michelle stays on the floor crying and Patrick walks away fuming. Dina runs after Patrick and grabs him by the arm.

Dina:

What are you doing Patrick? You don't understand. You just don't understand.

Patrick:

You're right. I just need to get away from all this. I've lost everything. My wife. My kids. Everything. If I don't get out of here, I'm going to die. I know it.

Miracle helps Michelle up and walk her offstage. Amanda curls up on the dais like a child in pain. Kofi picks up Patrick furiously and sets him on the dais.

Kofi:

Okay Flanigan… it is time we had a talk.

Patrick: struggling to get away

Let go of me asshole!

Kofi: loudly

I am so fucking sick of hearing you preach about how messed up everyone else is, and how your world is this, and how your world is that. It's not your goddamned world! We all live here and we all choose how to live. There is no objective right and wrong. You criticize me about how I treat Amanda. What about you? You're a threat to your wife… why else would she have a restraining order? Do you think I'm a fucking idiot? And this girl back in Champaign, what's that all about? Sounds like she needs one too. You try to bully everyone in your life. And you are isolating yourself my friend. You are pushing everyone away and laying the blame at their feet. Have you looked in a mirror lately? Not lived in one… looked in one? You are a man who has no idea what he wants in life anymore and you are holding us responsible. I am your friend Patrick. You protect yourself with ideals, which you never follow by the way… but we are all just people. We all make bad decisions, behave badly, get depressed, hurt other people and so on. This titty bar scene is just that. It is a scene. That's all. That is what I mean by real and not real. We all get lost. But you, my friend, are gnashing your teeth in Hell. I don't want to be there with you. None of us do. We are all pretending here. It is more real for some. We are making money, partying our asses off, schmoozing with 'the beautiful people' sarcastically… what the hell is wrong with that, fucker?

Patrick:

But all of this is just bullshit. It's all game playing and manipulation. And no one seems to recognize that it is not real. There is so much insanity around here. It's not only tolerated. It's encouraged. People are getting hurt, Kofi.

Amanda gets up and slowly walks offstage. Patrick and Kofi watch her.

Kofi:

People are getting hurt everywhere moron. What about you? You just shoved a confused girl to the floor in anger. Doesn't that hurt? Where do you get off? Talking about me. Not long ago, you punched her in the face. You're as much of an asshole as I am. As for my relationship with Amanda… it's none of your business. We rely on each other. Other than what you see, we are very private. It is your decision to hang around. I am as much of a friend to you as you are to me. You are the one that is hurting, so deal with it, and stop dumping all of your shit upon me. If you have a problem, come talk to me. Don't parade me publicly as a villain. You now realize how it feels. We are all villains my friend. It all depends on what is exposed to the light.

Patrick:

Gigi?

Kofi:

Sounds like she has more sense than the rest of us. She got rid of you right away. What were you blaming on her, your inability to love? Did you ever stop to think that it is you? You are the one that can't love. You preach and talk the big talk… but when it comes to action, the world is to blame. I'm so sick of all this… go away asshole. Just go away. Your cynicism is legendary.

Kofi flips his braids in disgust and leaves. Patrick sits down at the table with Ivan and Miracle.

Patrick:

Ivan. If something happens to me down here and I don't make it back, please tell Jen that I am so sorry. I just got lost. I never meant to hurt her.

Ivan: knocking twice on the table

I will. I promise. Are you going to be alright?

Miracle: hugs Patrick, then leaves with Ivan

We really do love you Patrick.

The colored lights go off. Pan walks on stage.

Pan:

Only drowning men can see him. His loneliness is filling your heart. You are struggling with your immortality. Don't remain asleep about Death. It is a privilege and a gift. That is why of the three Gorgons, the most powerful is Medusa, because she is mortal. These dancers - immortal beings have no hope of escape. There is no transcendence through Euryale or Stheno. The one you seek is Medusa. She hides as Narcissa… with Echo at her feet.

Patrick: reaches out and grabs Pan's hand

So what I seek is mortality… my own Death.

Pan:

Beauty has a face. You shall find more than you could ever dream of. But remember, you shall still have the last word, but no power to speak first. Mirrors have tormented you, and will continue to do so. Your fate is to find yourself without thought, emptiness and fullness at the same time. You will find a bridge inside yourself.

End of Narcissa

Pan appears as the stage is prepared for Act III.

He recites a poem with Gigi - her voice comes from backstage.

Gigi:

people turn upon me

reflect me as they reach

circling in worship gifts for my eyes

seeing myself through theirs

desperately they love me

then accuse me of lies

Patrick:

where are you, Narcissa?

in sleep I wake and walk

tossed by dreams that frighten me

just wishing we could talk

banned by you I fell away

and got lost inside my pain

I look for you in bars

star-crossed I seem insane

cursing love and circumstance

never to get a second chance

Gigi:

my name is an echo

is there no one else?

I am Beauty itself torn by doubt

do they love or consume me

or threaten my crown?

all these Echoes, lost admirers

keeping their distance with poetry

that my beauty inspires

kissing my own lips

will free me from my fate

of living through images

until Death lies in wait

Patrick:

daffodils rise for you

in respect dying to reflect

the mirrors that bind you

most of the time, I'm out of time

reaching out to you with words

where did I touch you

when you ran away that day

you punish me with silence

Gigi:

go away Flanigan

just go away

Act III - Scene 1

Care

The Passion of Echo

Gigi is standing on the dais in a sundress. Patrick is at her feet, talking to her playfully.

Patrick: raises his hand gallantly

Let me dance and spin in your eyes. I can only catch reflections, but I am led, guided by your light and the weakness of my sight; you leave me blind. Drawn by your sorrow, I cannot turn away. You see more clearly than I, the spaces that shift between us, then disappear… shared laughter never lies. And this time - I've caught you in disguise.

Gigi:

You're such a dork! What are you talking about? Are you going to be my knight, Flanigan?

Patrick:

I thought you were mine.

Gigi: sitting down on the dais

Okay, that's enough. What's up? Lately you seem to be so serious. Except for now of course. Every time you come into the bar, you just sit and look sad. You've been drinking more and talking less. I've noticed it a lot lately.

Patrick:

I don't know when everything became so sad. I have great memories of being a kid. I had such wonder, but so much emptiness crept in at some point. I used to hide in my room, listen to music and stare at the stars at night. I escaped by dreaming, designing spaceships to take me away. But what was it that I wanted to escape from? For Canopus is my home and life is my stranger...

Gigi:

Why do you focus so much on the past? Is it all so sad now? It's such a beautiful day. Look at the flowers across the street. Don't you just feel like running off into a field, soaking up the sunlight… just tripping over yourself?

Patrick:

You are so beautiful. I've only seen you during the day a couple of times. In the sunlight your skin is perfect, tanned and smooth. I can't look at you without smiling; your eyes, your long thick hair - just beautiful. I'll never forget the first time. I came into Jupiters early one day and talked with you at the bar. I started thinking about you that day.

Gigi:

About me? Flanigan, are you falling for me?

Patrick:

I guess I am, but I don't want to be one of those guys that you point out and say That's a little creepy mister. You know, like that guy, You look ravishing in black Gigi.

Gigi:

What a freak. Flanigan, you're not going to hit on me are you? You know, if you keep hanging out so late at the bar, I'm going to have to start pretending that you are my boyfriend. Are you going to hit on me?

Patrick:

You're so spoiled. Have you always had what you wanted? What do you want now? I think you really get off on guys chasing after you, buying you things. Fools like me.

Gigi:

I'm not like that anymore. Material things aren't that important. My brothers are so concerned about money, but not me. All I want Flanigan, when you get rich, I mean really rich, is a Great Dane and a Land Rover. Just come into Jupiters and put the leash and keys up on the bar. That's all. Don't you think that I would look hot with a Great Dane? Oh, and one more thing – black boots. I really need some black boots.

Patrick:

Well, now I know. But you're so careless with yourself Gigi. It's so easy to fall for you. I'm sure that you often find yourself in traps.

Gigi:

You know… in high school, I dated two guys at the same time. They didn't seem to mind too much.

Patrick:

So, your motivated by your needs, everything has its place. No complications.

Gigi:

No, not so much anymore.

Patrick:

I don't believe that. You're still that way.

Gigi:

Do you notice something different about me today?

Patrick:

No, not really. Your legs? I never really see them with those dresses you wear.

Gigi:

Lipstick.

Patrick:

You're such a tomboy… like you've never worn lipstick.

Gigi:

Not often. Do you think it's sexy?

Patrick: smiling and fawning over her

You certainly know how to bring attention to yourself.

Gigi:

So… I hear you talking about all these girls in Austin. Young girls? I mean, what's the deal? How old are you anyway Flanigan – forty-two?

Patrick:

I had a lot of girls as friends down there… some closer than others.

Gigi:

Friends? I've heard you talk about Amanda. She's the one you wrote poems about. You told me about the one your wife found… 'Demanda'. Can't really lie your way out of that.

Patrick:

I thought I'd lost my kids on that one. She was pissed. Still is.

Gigi:

God won't let that happen… What's Amanda doing now? Is she still with that guy Coffee?

Patrick:

She isn't with Kofi anymore, but she's still dancing. Probably always will. She is happiest at work. We used to joke about how Amanda was built by the Japanese, the perfect dancer. I just wanted to help and take care of her. That's what I thought she wanted too. But I'm not sure. At times, she would ask for help, but she didn't want me to expect anything from her. She didn't want to hurt me, so she never really gave anything in return. She protects herself so much.

Gigi:

How's your heart doing?

Patrick:

It's beating. I'm out of breath a lot… and I'm scared.

Gigi:

Don't die on me Flanigan.

Patrick:

It's funny, I have heard you say that to me in dreams.

Gigi:

I'm really looking forward to your party. I talked about it with Tash today during our power walk. We talk about everything.

Patrick:

Yeah. I think it'll be fun. I'm glad you're coming. Did you read any of the poetry I gave you?

Gigi:

No, not yet. You know, I find myself daydreaming about sitting out on my porch in the afternoon reading your poetry. There's not a poem in there about a girl with a spot on her head, is there? When you gave it to me the other night, it seemed like you were giving me a junior high love note.

Patrick:

I guess it is a love note. No poems about a girl with a spot. Not yet.

Gigi:

Don't push it buddy. I don't go for old guys or lesbians. What's up with that? That's all who's been hitting on me lately.

Patrick:

Just lucky I guess. grabbing at her Maybe they dig that Amish bitch look that you do so well.

Gigi:

Watch out Flanigan! Next time, you're banned. And you… could you try calling me before two in the morning?

Patrick:

I know. I'm a shameless drunk-caller. And I also know that you walk in your sleep, so maybe you'll forget that I called.

Gigi:

Not likely.

Patrick:

It's nice that we're talking. We never get to talk. You're always working, or other people are around. I'm kind of shy around you.

Gigi:

Right. You're shy? So you think we need to talk more in our relationship?

Patrick:

I really am sorry about your break-up with Eric. Do you still love him?

Gigi: looking down sadly

Yes, very much…

Gigi lies down on the dais and eventually falls asleep. Pan walks on stage.

Pan:

as a child

you fell asleep one night

and morning never came

imagining a life

lost in roles of parlor games

beauty is never what it seems

when you believe in mirror dreams

Patrick: stroking Gigi's hair

What am I going to do Pan? She's so beautiful and I can't stop thinking about her. When I wake up in the morning, her face is the first thing I think about. I hope to see her car at every corner; just a chance for her to catch me looking at her.

Pan:

It's too late man. She's gone. Why are you always talking to your past? Your reflection is always right behind you. Gigi is not with you. She doesn't need you, and she can't see that you need her. Let her go. Now is the time.

Patrick:

I can't stop wanting to be with her, to hold and comfort her, to smell and taste her.

Pan:

It's all reflection. If you hold onto her, your pride will consume you. You must succeed where Perseus failed. Let her live in your heart, not in your mind. Loneliness is a condition of being. It cannot be quenched. It can only be forgotten.

Patrick:

But she likes me, I know it. I really do care Pan, I do.

Pan:

I know you care. But you can't be a magician in her life. Walk away and live. She doesn't see you right now. You are a just a reflection that changes with her moods. There is no chance. Images eat away the Soul.

Patrick:

No Pan. There is a chance with me. We can be together. This can't be the end. I'm going to find her and make her see me. Your voice doesn't touch me anymore.

Pan:

You are trying to live through her. You must live within. Awake and toss your stones. Your Soul is acting now. Run to her and show her your Death. See if she will help you. She is a sleeping beauty. She cannot give love, only rejection. Fall back into yourself. Her Soul is aware of you, but her mind is not. Sorrow will mask itself as anger. Your cries will only frighten her. Thank heaven for Gigi. She is saving your life.

Patrick: looking at Gigi

I'm so lonely, Pan.

Pan: after a moment of silence

your laughter frames the sadness in your eyes

I watch you, as you live in disguise

counting the beats as you move through yourself

your life is blessed with beauty

but not for you

Pan walks offstage. Angela walks out from the other side.

Angela:

So… is this a dream, Patrick? Who's this girl?

Patrick:

Gigi.

Angela:

I've heard so much about her. She is beautiful.

Patrick:

Angela, do you remember the first night we met?

Angela:

It was out at the lake house.

Patrick:

You came in late one night… alone. A strange girl, totally strung-out on X, showing everyone how flexible you were. Doing splits… all kinds of gymnastics. Kofi kept trying to corner you. It reminded me of cutting the room down when I tried to cage my lovebirds. At some point, he was standing above you, so that if you moved you would be in his arms.

Angela: holds up her right fist

Sounds like a lot of nights.

Patrick:

Imagine that… but I'm not so innocent. I just didn't have the nerve to do it in front of everyone else. There were always stray girls stopping by. There was one time I started kissing some girl, and Kofi dragged me aside and told me she was in high school. I guess he would know. I heard he was going to prom this year.

Angela: laughing and holding her fist up again

I hadn't started dancing at Sugars yet… I heard about the party that night and headed over. I don't know who told me about it. I was just out of high school myself.

Patrick:

You looked great. You had tight jeans on, a red and black striped shirt, with red socks. I still remember because I wanted to get you out of them.

Angela:

I don't even remember those clothes.

Patrick:

You were just floating all over the place… dancing… twirling.

Angela:

I must have been wasted.

Patrick:

Well… everyone started drifting into other rooms. Kofi and Adam started playing pool. Amanda went off to organize her closet and listen to music. I was sitting on the couch with you trying to cuddle. Amanda eventually came out with pillows for us, and you crawled down onto the floor.

Angela:

It was that front room… with the big TV in it.

Patrick:

Yeah… some movie was on, as always. I soon joined you on the floor and started rubbing your back. Soon, my hand made it into your shirt. I remember how full and warm your breasts felt. I wasn't sure whether you were asleep or not. At some point though, you did turn and look at me. I asked you if you wanted me to stop. You said, I don't care. Great. Such enthusiasm.

Angela:

I wasn't asleep Patrick.

Patrick:

Later Amanda came out with a bunch of blankets and pillows. Apparently, she had been thinking. She had changed into a short nightgown, and asked me to rub her like I was rubbing that new girl. So, we all cuddled on the floor and fell asleep. When I woke up, I had my arm around Amanda, and you were gone.

Angela:

Probably the next time you saw me was in Sugars.

Patrick:

That night at the lake meant a lot to me. In those days, I didn't run into many girls who wanted to cuddle. Sure, they would kiss, grab a dick, give a dance… but it was all for coke or X. It was never really subtle either. I got so tired of that bullshit.

Angela:

So… I was a little warmth on a cold night.

Patrick:

A cold life. It seems pitiful to me now.

Angela:

Things are always messed up with me. My friends are always pissed about something. Guys never work out. Suddenly, they just stop calling, and I'm supposed to understand.

Patrick:

You seem to like the guy you're with now.

Angela:

For now, who knows? At least I'm not at Sugars too much anymore.

Patrick:

Do you understand why I got so mad at you that night about the coke?

Angela:

Yeah… but I get crazy with that shit around. I do things I would never do otherwise.

Patrick:

I know. It was just the gesture. It was my birthday. We just had dinner. Then you disappear with that bag… and you didn't even want to do any that night. Then you disappear altogether, for two months. No phone calls, no email. What the fuck?

Angela:

Patrick, I don't know what that was all about. I was never mad at you after you left Austin. Right after you visited I had a lot on my mind. I went into a slightly self-destructive mode. Partying waaaay too much. I moved to Austin and my best friend moved to Virginia and many other things were plaguing my mind. I did not call you back because I was trying to turn my life around and take care of me. I'm not partying anymore and have been looking for a career. I have not been working much and have been going to sleep early. I also didn't want to talk to you when you were drunk because sometimes you are either mean or hard to understand. I tried to call you several times but my old phone was really awful. I even tried to answer when you called, but my phone just sucked so bad. I now have a new phone so that shouldn't be a problem anymore. I miss talking to you a lot. We are really good friends. I am not going to lose that, I just had to find myself again. Here I am!

Patrick:

I guess so... I used think that we would get together someday. I miss talking to you too. One night out at the lake, you were saying goodbye to me at my car, and I thought we were going to kiss. But we didn't. I thought about it the whole way home. We spent so much time together freaked out on yeyo, that love didn't have a chance.

Angela:

So what's all this stuff about Medusa?

Patrick:

Well…. I was joking with some friends about how I couldn't even see, much less talk to Gigi anymore, and it made me think of Medusa. You know the myth. Men could not look at her. They would turn to stone. So… it seemed to fit.

Angela:

You're insane. Lost in your ideas.

Patrick: smiling

It helps keep the sting away… and I'm sure Dina is thrilled about being a Gorgon.

Angela:

But these girls are real, Patrick.

Patrick:

Everything is easier with roles to play. Let the battles rage in the heavens, not in my heart.

Angela:

Living inside your heart can be painful. Otherwise… you're dead.

Patrick: bowing

Welcome…

Angela:

You are more alive than you know. I wish Gigi really knew you. I know how much you are hurting. She can't see you at all.

Patrick:

I miss you Angela.

Angela:

Your thoughts are mine.

Patrick: hugging Angela

Take care of yourself. I am found in you.

Angela:

Which is the dream?

Angela walks offstage. Gigi starts to wake up.

Patrick:

in pain you lost your heart,

waiting for your sleep to break.

when you are near my path is clear,

and my Soul is wide awake.

Gigi: sitting up slowly on the dais

Flanigan, did I fall asleep?

Patrick:

Gigi?

Gigi does not acknowledge him. They are looking away from each other.

I'm always thinking about you. I want to spend more time with you.

Gigi: picks up the handheld mirror from the dais

I don't have any more time Flanigan. I'm very busy.

Patrick:

Busy? Don't you want to do anything together anymore? Can we have dinner? Let's go up to the zoo in Chicago.

Gigi: still very sleepy

No, I can't.

Patrick:

Nothing? I thought you liked me. Don't you have any feelings for me at all?

Gigi:

No, I don't.

Patrick:

So, I'm just some guy that hangs out at the bar where you work? Is that it? We aren't even friends? Why were you lying to me all this time?

Gigi:

I never lied to you.

Patrick:

How about all the flirting? I thought we connected. What about the jokes between us?

Gigi:

They were just jokes, that's all.

Patrick:

How can you be so cold? Is this all you want out of life?

Gigi:

Are you saying you want to hump me Flanigan?

Patrick:

That's not what this is about.

Gigi:

Don't you have your kids tomorrow night?

Patrick:

I love you so much Gigi, and I don't know why you are lying to me. I know you care… If you ever wonder if anyone cares for you, I do.

Gigi:

Did you think I had a crush on you Flanigan?

Patrick: grabs the mirror from her hand and smashes it

Dammit! Why are you doing this? Where are you?

A moment of silence, Patrick is nervously pacing the stage. Gigi sits in front of a mirror crying and starts twirling her hair.

Patrick: after a moment of silence

Please help me Gigi. Please help me.

Patrick walks over to Gigi and hands her a letter. She turns her back and looks in a mirror

He sets the letter on the dais. She reaches over and throws it on the floor.

Patrick: picks up the letter and reads it

Since it appears that you and I will never talk again, I want to let you know how I feel without any doubt or confusion. I have also included the poems I wrote for you. I apologize for leaving phone messages, but after seeing you out at night, it eases my mind to call and leave a message just to remind you that I am still here. Looking back, I hung out in Jupiters for months, talked with you, flirted with you, and never thought of you as anyone but a friend. And by the way, that tab at Jupiters that I walked on, I did on purpose. I wanted to get your attention. And all the jokes were just jokes, that's all. But something happened to change all of that. We were in Highdive one night, you were sitting at the bar, and as I walked past, you reached out and grabbed my hand, then I leaned in and grabbed your waist. That was it. That was the moment when it all changed for me. I suddenly realized that I was in love with you. And then we had lunch and I was lost. You are the most beautiful girl I've ever known. I just wanted to sit and watch you, listen to you laugh. You just seemed so perfect to me. And when you joked with me about getting my 'Gigi-fix', you have no idea how true it was. I told my friends, I'm in trouble, I've really fallen hard for Gigi. I knew it right away. And I remember when you said on the phone We're just friends aren't we? Because I don't want to hurt your feelings, you sensed that I wanted more, I know that, and you warned me. But I kept moving along blindly. I decided to throw a party. And the purpose of that party was to get you over to my apartment. I wanted you to see my place. I had just bought my couch. I was so proud. So… I had a 'Lorenzo Goetz Party'. I knew you would never come over for a 'Gigi Party', obviously. And when I watched you sitting in my living room, smiling and laughing, everything seemed so right… if only for the moment. Then you were ready to leave, and I really wanted some time to just sit and talk with you. But you were suddenly gone, and I was on my way to getting very drunk. I can still hear your voice at the door, see you later Flanigan. I should have just come out, hugged you and thanked you for coming. But I went out and drank more; then I decided to call you. And I have never been more sorry about anything in my life. I apologize with all my heart about yelling at you on the phone. I kept playing it all out hoping it would come true. I wanted you to love me so badly. When you said that you had no feelings for me, I felt that somehow you were to blame for all of this. And I lashed out. I had always looked for signs that were enough for me - not necessarily the truth. I wish that we could change how things are now. I won't try to reach you anymore. I just wanted to make sure that you had the poems. I miss you. Take care.

Gigi gets up and walks offstage. Patrick drops the letter on the floor. Pan walks onstage and sits on the dais.

Gigi: her voicemail message from backstage, three times slowly

Thanks for calling. Please leave a message… beep

Patrick: facing a mirror

In my mind is the only time, I see you anymore. This is a useless love that leaves me blind. No one knows how poor I really am, or how rich. Right now, there is no love coming from a woman in my life. No tenderness, no compassion, no concern – only scorn or indifference. Why does my love not reach them? The sadness and passion of Narcissa drew me to her. Now, she does not answer. Please see me! she cries, but only echoes can hear. The mirrors must be broken. She cannot see me and never could. All that I am sure of is that I have my children and my heart. With these, I am rich. I am ready to live and to die. The grace in truth is in knowing the difference.

Pan:

Care for yourself. Love is not a verb. You see the world through ideas that you must always be willing to deny. It is the mind that is blind. Feeling the world is salvation. Echo. Do not be afraid. Stand fast. You need to awaken from immortality. You do not exist in memory. Your heart will find its way, and your mind will stumble in its wake. You do not need me anymore. You now see that Narcissa is your reflection, who you think you are, the true object of your affection. From chrysalis to crystal - frozen in time. Imago.

Patrick:

Am I more lost or found? My mind knows nothing. I sense that an understanding is present, but I cannot frame it with my mind. It only follows. It reacts; it does not lead. Things happen to me physically and emotionally, and my mind reacts, hiding itself behind intention and purpose. It will not confess. It is guilty; guilty of disguising itself as a Soul; guilty of inventing Time to protect itself from action; guilty of declaring that Creation is from above; guilty of imagining that it can recognize and feel Love; guilty of forgetting that it is Death. It looks out at the world and can only see itself. It is cursed by loneliness, unable to engage. It is haunted by the debris of transcendence. It can only wait for itself. Love swells up.

Pan:

this crushing Soul

is tearing me apart

a leather-gloved fist

giving shape to my Heart

pounding against mirrors

bound by walls of its lust

I struggle not to follow, but must

Patrick:

we would meet at the Heart

the deal that was made

on the slab, laid-out for Death

gathering debts to be paid

rising up against my breath

pulling it back, tubes inside my chest

I woke up in a sea of morphine

my Soul had faces that I'd never seen

grabbing my hair pulled above the room

filled with liquid and reflections of me

my eyes were so blazed

I couldn't even scream

slipping back under

to live another dream

The colored lights come on as Pan walks offstage. Jamie comes out fixing her top.

Jamie: picking up the letter and handing it to Patrick

Did you drop this?

Patrick:

Yeah, it's my heart.

Jamie: walking away

You should be more careful.

Patrick: yelling with a smile

Hey bitch! Why don't you come home with me tonight?

Jamie: flipping him off, she stops and turns

I've heard worse.

Patrick:

Probably from me. Next time I'm going to have a waitress follow you around and give you shots all night.

Jamie:

Why? So I'll get all drunk and tell you how much I love you again? walks offstage

Patrick:

Something like that.

All the lights come on. Patrick is alone at center stage.

DJ: slowly over the PA

Sugar's is now closed. Please finish your drinks and head to the door. If you are not a dancer, you are wrong. There is free pizza available out in the parking lot.

Kofi comes out with Michelle and Miracle.

Kofi: all over Michelle

Patrick? Where are we going? Your place? This girl's pain is legendary. Check this out. Have you ever seen so much pain?

Patrick:

Cool with me. We need some booze.

Kofi: beckoning and twirling one arm above his head

Regulators!

Patrick:

Kofi, you riding with Amanda? Kofi stops and sneers

Ivan and Miracle walk out from the other side. Kofi stumbles offstage with Michelle.

Ivan:

Any action brother?

Patrick:

Not really. I think Brandy may come over. Maybe Angela. Who knows? They all know the way.

Ivan:

Cool. I think I got a line on some chickies as well. They came over before. They're hot, but into each other, so no nookie for us.

Miracle: shaking Patrick's hand

Patrick. See you outside brother. I'll grab the car.

Patrick: punching at Miracle

Bitch.

Miracle:

I can't believe you're talking to me like that.

Patrick:

Are you coming back to the house?

Miracle:

As long as we have a plan.

Patrick: shaking Miracle's hand

We do Miracle, we do.

Miracle leaves. Amanda comes out in street clothes. The lights go down.

Amanda: excited and hugging Patrick

I'll call you later okay. I'm going skydiving tomorrow. Want to go?

Patrick:

I'll pass. Looks like a long night ahead.

Amanda: yells offstage and leaves

Kofi!

Jamie comes out in street clothes and hugs Patrick silently.

Ivan:

Want to stop and get stuff for soup?

Patrick: smiling

Fuck the soup.

Ivan: walking offstage

See you outside Pat.

Angela comes out in street clothes and sits on the dais. She shushes Patrick, holding a finger to her pursed lips. After a moment of silence, Patrick kisses Jamie on the neck.

Patrick: whispering

Beauty is hiding everywhere.

Angela holds up her right fist. Patrick lets go of Jamie and raises his fist. Jamie and Angela walk off together. Patrick lights a cigarette and looks around. He walks offstage alone. The lighting makes him appear as a shadow.

The End

You see the whole thing is really a kind of catch to create a situation in which we get so interested in sound that we forget what we're really interested to find is the listener. One has to be aware of this movement as the conversation proceeds. We started out to find the listener; this is what it's all about. There's no point in listening. I'm not interested in listening except that it's a way of finding what I am - the listener. And as I listen to the conversation, it has to move out, it has to get farther and farther away from where it's supposed to go. And it eventually gets so far away that it's gone. And then, you know, suddenly you realize that we were talking about nothing. This was a conference, if you like, of caterpillars, one caterpillar saying to another caterpillar, What is transformation? And the other, answering in certain terms.

- John Pentland - Exchanges Within