short play: 10 minutes

This was supposed to be a period specific piece, utilising the art movement of the time as inspiration and writing within the movement's approach. I chose absurdism, looking more at Harold Pinter than Beckett. One thing Pinter does really well is a 'comedy of menace', (especially in The Caretaker) which I strove for, but didn't quite reach. . . Despite this, the piece works in its own right, and is due to be preformed at Uni pretty soon.


The Custom

by Josh Avila 2005

Characters:

Paul casually dressed mid 20s to early 30s
Katrina smartly dressed mid 20s to early 30s
Waitress casually dressed in black early 20s
Steve smartly dressed mid 20s to early 30s


The Cafe should be set up with a number of tables and chairs. White table cloths, a little vases with posies. The door to the street is off stage, the kitchen opposite. Paul and Katrina should barely look at each other while they sit at their table. Katrina sits alone at a table, looking out aimlessly into the audience. She does not see Paul enter from the street.


PAUL: G’day, g’day

KATRINA: Paul!

PAUL: Sorry I’m late, have you been waiting long?

KATRINA: You’d be late to your own funeral, so no, I haven’t been waiting long. I came
late myself.

PAUL: I don’t mean to be late.

KATRINA: It’s alright. Don’t worry about it.

PAUL: Well. . . this is a nice spot.

KATRINA: Where?

PAUL: Here. This café. I like it.

KATRINA: Yes. I often have lunch here. It’s close to my work.

PAUL: Wooden tables, comfy chairs. Pot plants, pretty waitress. I like it. So how
long has it been again? About a year and a half?

KATRINA: I guess so. About that.

PAUL: Everything’s changed a lot since then.

KATRINA: It certainly has.

Pause

PAUL: You know, one time he told me, it would have been at a place like this, I
mean not this café, but one like it. Maybe with the tables on the street,
yes, that was it, anyway, he was walking past it, this café: he’d just been to
another one, I think he’d had lunch with Steve, you remember Steve, at a different
café, it was probably a bit like this one too, I mean they’re all a bit the same aren’t
they. . . I don’t know if he ate, but they would’ve had coffee, anyway he was walking
past this café on his way to his girlfriend‘s, when he heard yelling from across the
street, from this café—

KATRINA: I thought he was walking past it.

PAUL: What?

KATRINA: This café.

PAUL: What, here?

KATRINA: No, the Café.

PAUL: No, he was on the other side of the street to it. The other side.

KATRINA: He loved a good coffee.

PAUL: Yes.

KATRINA: They make a good one here.

PAUL: I hope so. . .

KATRINA: When was all this again?

PAUL: It would have been about two years ago.

KATRINA: Not long before then. . . before . . .

Pause

PAUL: Yes. I guess you could say it was symptomatic.

Pause

What he did, see, was there was this yelling from across the street, from this
café with the tables outside, what do you call it? Al, al fresco, al fresco. . . so
this guy was screaming at the waitress on the footpath, I don’t know what
about, but really angrily, like, just full of rage, I think it was about the service, or the
food, or something, and he had a bad headache, from being in the city he said, you
know how he loved the country, I mean he was living there wasn’t he, so anyway he
waited until there was a gap in the in the traffic and a. . . pause in the torrent of
abuse and called out for the guy to shut up, and that he should be polite, and then
the guy came over the road at him, and screamed at him and swung a punch that
he dodged, and then another that he said he mostly dodged, but it kind of grazed
his ear a bit, and then he said he looked the guy in his eyes and said ‘You punch
like a girl.’ He said the guy turned purple with rage, purple, and started to belt him,
but some other blokes who were friends of the waitress came over the road and
started fighting with the guy, so he went across the road and talked to the waitress
and she gave him a coffee.

Pause

And then a few hours later he was at a bookshop and someone who must
have seen the fight asked him if he was okay, and he said for a moment he knew
what it was to be a celebrity.

Pause

Yes, it pays to be polite.

Enter waitress

WAITRESS: Are you order to ready now?

PAUL: A long double black with a side serve of chilled milk thanks.

KATRINA: Could I have a latte, please?

WAITRESS: Okay. Do you want any thing to eat? The soup’s good today.

PAUL: What sort of soup?

WAITRESS: Tomato. It’s good.

PAUL: Alright then. You’ve sold me.

KATRINA: Could I have the BLT today, please?

WAITRESS: Sure.

Exit waitress

PAUL: So have you seen Steve at all?

KATRINA: No, not since. . .

PAUL: No, me neither. Yes, it was a sad day. But there were signs. In hindsight.

KATRINA: So reckless.

PAUL: She’s quite fetching, isn’t she?

KATRINA: I suppose.

PAUL: Yes. And chivalrous.

Pause.

KATRINA: He was that too.

PAUL: But a real risk taker. Like you say, reckless.

KATRINA: Yes.

PAUL: One time I remember, it was, oh, years ago. We were all very drunk, me Steve and
him, and we went down into the train tunnels, because it was late, and we didn’t’
have any money for a cab, those were the days, free. . . we could see what we
were doing well enough, but we thought the trains had stopped running only they
hadn’t, and we felt that rush of air from an oncoming train, and had to run to the
spaces they make for people like us, so I went for the nearest, and Steve the one
after, but he, well, he ran past two or three before jumping into the shelter.

KATRINA: I guess you can see some connections. In hindsight.

PAUL: Yes.

Enter waitress with coffees

WAITRESS: Your latte—

KATRINA: Thank you.

WAITRESS: and a long black. (as the waitress places the coffee down she spills some in Paul’s lap)

PAUL: Bloody Hell!

WAITRESS: Oh dear! Here, let me—

PAUL: No, I’m alright thanks.

WAITRESS: Please—

PAUL: Don’t worry about it.

WAITRESS: I’m really very sorry.

PAUL: Look, I’m dry all ready.

Pause as waitress exits

PAUL: Well!

KATRINA: He was very important to me. We were going to. . . we had plans.

PAUL: And she’s forgotten my milk.

KATRINA: I miss him.

PAUL: Service like that in a place like this?

KATRINA: I really miss him. I’ve had. . . a hard time of it, you know.

Pause

PAUL: I don’t like to complain, you know, but it’s the principle. . . still, she’s easy on the eye. That’s probably how she got the job. Life’s easier for beautiful people.

KATRINA: There’s Steve!

PAUL: What?

KATRINA: Steve! (exits)

PAUL: (looking off) Why so it is. Fancy that.

Pause. Paul sips his coffee and grimaces. Enter Steve and Katrina

KATRINA: We were just talking about you—

PAUL: Fancy meeting you here.

STEVE: Hello Paul.

PAUL: Steve.

KATRINA: What have you been up to since we saw you last?

STEVE: Just the same old stuff.

PAUL: Typical.

STEVE: What?

KATRINA: Paul.

PAUL: I said typical. My life has been drastically changed since, since. . . and Katrina’s—
no don’t interrupt, this needs to be said— it’s just typical. You live your life in a
moral vacuum, Steve. And if anyone could have done something. . . You were the
one responsible! It was your fault he—

KATRINA: Paul!

Pause

STEVE: Yes. . . Well, it was nice to see you, Katrina. We should catch up some time.

KATRINA: Yes. Steve, I’m sorry for—

STEVE: You’re not to blame, Katrina.

PAUL: (rising to his feet) And I am, is that it? Well, stuff you Steve. You better watch it.
Stuff you. Go on, get out of it. We were doing fine before you appeared on the
scene. What do you want to hang around here for? Why couldn’t you just keep
walking? Go on, piss off, piss off then, you parasite.

STEVE: I see you haven’ t changed a bit. Katrina. (exits)

Pause. Paul sits down again.

PAUL: Don’t say a word.

KATRINA: I can’t believe you, Paul. It’s been over a year. You could have at least tried. . .

PAUL: Maybe you can forget. . .

Enter Waitress with food

WAITRESS: Here we are then, your usual BLT—

KATRINA: Thank you.

WAITRESS: and a tomato soup. (as the waitress places the soup, Paul turns and knocks the bowl, spilling some over himself)

PAUL: Bloody Hell! (rises, knocking his chair over)

WAITRESS: I’m so sorry! Please, let me—

PAUL: Just get out of it, leave me alone!

WAITRESS: I’m so sorry, it was an accident.

PAUL: It’s incompetence, that’s what it is.

WAITRESS: Look, I didn’t—

PAUL: You probably got this job on the strength of your looks, hey? What did you do, fuck
the manager?

KATRINA: Paul!

WAITRESS: I don’t have to take this.

PAUL: You stupid incompetent cow.

KATRINA: /Paul!

WAITRESS: /You overbearing pig!

PAUL: How dare you speak to me like that. I’m a customer, the customer is always
right.

WAITRESS: They don’t pay me enough for this.

PAUL: A customer.

KATRINA: Paul!

WAITRESS: I already apologized, not that you’ve noticed. What more do you want?

PAUL: I’m a customer! I pay your wages.

KATRINA: I’m so sorry.

WAITRESS: I think you should leave.

PAUL: I’ll leave when I’m ready. I’m a customer. I tell you what to do, that’s how it works.
I’m the customer. . . You can forget about a tip.

WAITRESS: I’m not your slave, dickhead.

KATRINA: I’m so sorry, I never meant—

PAUL: What did you call me? You can’t talk to me like that. How dare you?

WAITRESS: If you don’t call the police, I’m going to leave now.

KATRINA: I’m so sorry. (exits)

PAUL: (exiting) Who’d want to eat in a shit hole like this anyway? You’ll be lucky if I don’t
call the health department. Incompetence. Fucking incompetence.

WAITRESS: Don’t let the door hit you. . .

PAUL: Typical. Incompetence. It’s symptomatic.