Jeff Rogers

Have We Met?

Characters:
Amy: Pretty, late twenties, upscale.
George: Handsome, early thirties, successful.

Setting: Crowded, urban street. Concrete jungle. Amy and George walk towards each other, catch eyes and just as they pass each turns and….

 

George: Have we….?

Amy: Met?

George: Yes.

Amy: Maybe…

George: Siciliano’s?

Amy: No.

George: Dante’s?

Amy: No.

George: Look….

Amy: Familiar?

George: Yes.

Amy: Mike?

George: George.

Amy: George?

George: Yes.

Amy: Amy.

George: (flirting) Amy.

Amy: (flirting back) George.

George: Married?

Amy: (shakes her head) You?

George: Divorced.

Amy: Oh.

George: Glad?

Amy: (thinks about it) Over?

George: Very.

Amy: Uh-huh.

George: Very!

Amy: Okay.

George: Glad?

Amy: (coy) Maybe.

George: (looking around) What?

Amy: Work.

George: (points to a doorway) Here?

Amy: (shakes her head) Downtown?

George: Oh.

Amy: You?

George: Uptown.

Amy: What?

George: Finance.

Amy: Oh.

George: You?

Amy: Design.

George: Nice.

Amy: Sometimes.

(an awkward silence while they both struggle to make sense of the situation and where they want to go with it)

George: Color?

Amy: Caramel.

George: Blue.

Amy: Cat?

George: Dog.

Amy: Sweets?

George: (trying to make a connection) Caramel.

Amy: Fudge.

George: Meat?

Amy: (shakes her head) Fish.

George: Church?

Amy: Temple.

George: Oh.

Amy: Sunrise?

George: Sunset.

Amy: Smoke?

George: Cigars.

Amy: Smell.

George: (accusing) Fish!

Amy: Touche’

George: Time?

Amy: Little.

Amy starts to walk away but he walks to he and touches her arm, asking her to stay.

George: Hate?

Amy: Lawyers.

George: Yes!

Amy: You?

George: Mechanics.

Amy: Fruit?

George: Papaya.

Amy: Passionate.

George: You?

Amy: Figs.

George: Newtons?

Amy: (laughing) Fresh.

George: (why not) Cookie?

Amy: Oatmeal.

George: Raisins?

Amy: (shakes her head) You?

George: (why not?) Newton’s.

Amy: Sky?

George: Sunny.

Amy: Apples?

George: Pippin.

Amy: Travel?

George: Season?

Amy: Winter.

George: Florida.

Amy: Muggy.

George: You?

Amy: Paris.

George: Winter?

Amy: (of course not) Spring.

George: Flowers?

Amy: Fresh.

George: Beer?

Amy: Wine.

George: Soda?

Amy: Orange.

George: (touches her hair) Shag?

Amy: (a bit miffed, touches his hair) Rug?

(both laugh at their antics and mock insults.)

Amy: Kids?

George: (shakes his head) You?

Amy: Two.

George: Really?

Amy: Someday.

George: Girls?

Amy: Boys!

George: Really.

Amy: (nods, then) Read?

George: Newspaper.

Amy: Sports?

George: Business.

Amy: Boring.

George: (shrugs shoulders) Finance.

Amy: Right.

George: You?

Amy: Write.

George: Fiction?

Amy: Poetry.

George: Muse?

Amy: Zeitgeist.

George: Zeitgeist?

Amy: (pride) Zeitgeist.

George: Why?

Amy: Jody.

George: Gehrman?

Amy: Yes.

George: Movies?

Amy: Films.

George: Spielberg?

Amy: Polanski.

George: TV?

Amy: Public.

George: Boring.

Amy: (supporting her choice) Nature.

George: Boring.

Amy: You?

George: Letterman.

Amy: Politics?

George: Republican.

Amy: (aghast) Reagan?

George: Lincoln.

Amy: Oh.

George: You?

Amy: Democrat.

George: Hillary?

Amy: Both.

George: (aghast) How….?

Amy: What?

George: Lewinsky!

Amy: So?

George: Morals.

Amy: Nixon.

George: Ouch!

Amy: Bush?

George: Grudgingly.

(another silence as they realize their differences and look each other over to see if they want to invest something in each other.)

Amy: (checks her watch, uncomfortable, pressed for) Time.

George: Yeah.

Amy: (starting to walk away) Gotta….

George: Wait.

Amy: (slows her walk) What?

(George can’t quite find the words that he wants to say. Amy walks right up to him in his personal space.)

Amy: Dinner?

George: Nightly.

Amy: No….

George: (joking) No?

Amy: Friday?

George: Movie?

Amy: Film…

George: Seven?

Amy: Eight.

(Amy takes a pen out of her purse and takes his hand and writes her number on his palm and gently closes it. George looks at it.)

Amy: (Amy begins to walk away then turns…) Call me..

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