M: May I join you?
W: That depends. Why would you like to join me?
M: Because you know how to enjoy your coffee.
Beat.
And women who know how to enjoy their coffee, know how to enjoy their sex.
Beat.
W: That’s an interesting theory. Do you have any proof for it?
M: No, only anecdotal evidence.
W: Well I don’t mind if you sit, as long as you realize I’m not interested in being part of any experiments.
W picks up her book and studies it furiously, refusing to look at M. Clearly, she is not really reading. M sips his coffee leisurely, glancing over his paper.
M: I see what this is about.
W ignores him.
M: You’ve never had an orgasm.
W: Excuse me?
M: You’ve never had an orgasm.
W goes back to reading her book.
W: What makes you say that?
M: Excuse me?
W: What makes you say that I’ve never had an orgasm?
M: I can see it in your eyes!
W: Bullshit!
M: Well, have you ever had an orgasm?
W: That is none of your business!
W gets up to leave.
M: Wait! Let me buy you another cup of coffee?
W: Why?
M: So I can convince you of my theory.
W: You realize the only way you can prove your theory is by taking me home and giving me an orgasm, right?
M: I’d be more than happy to.
W: I’m not interested in using my body for the sake of science.
W walks out, off-stage.
Scene 2: Next day, same time, same place, same setup.
M: Mind if I join you?
W: Well, if it isn’t Mr. Orgasm.
M: I’ve always wanted that nickname.
W (laughs): I bet you have.
M sits down.
W: I didn’t give you an answer yet.
M: Well, if you want me to go, you’ll have to convince me to leave.
W: Ok, I’m an axe-murderer.
M: Please. I expect something a little creative, at least.
W: I’ve given you no reason for expectations.
M: I’m a man. It’s in our nature to hope.
W: Because you’re kicked down by women?
M shrugs. Picks up his paper and begins to read.
W: I take men, tie them to my bed, fuck them like crazy, whip them to death, and bury their bodies in the Hudson river.
M: We all have to die someday.
W: Are you telling me you’re not afraid of death?
M (shrugs): I mean, I’m not exactly looking forward to the thing, but as far as deaths go, the one you mentioned sounded kind of awesome. Anyhow, why worry about the inevitable, you know? M goes back to reading his paper.
W: Have you ever lost anyone close to you?
M looks up.
W: Well I have, and it was – awful. I don’t see how anyone can – I mean, the thought that all of this, our lives, you know, our bodies – that one day it will all be these little molecules of dirt being turned into fertilizer for trees in Centra Park so that squirrels can get their pine-nuts – how can you not be depressed when you think about it?
M: I just don’t think about it.
Beat.
M: Besides, I like squirrels. It’s nice to think that my body will be giving back – and who knows, maybe that squirrel will eat the pine nut and shit on my enemy’s leg or something, when he’s going for a walk with his girlfriend.
W (laughs): Now there’s a happy thought.
M: Lechaim.
They clink coffee glasses. Then each one goes back to reading their book/newspaper, looking at each other out of the corner of their eyes.
Scene 3: Same setup.
M: Can I join you?
W: Of course.
Beat.
W: I realized I lost the argument yesterday.
M: What?
W: I forgot to convince you to leave.
Beat.
W: I can’t stand losing arguments, so I made a pre-emptive list of reasons you should not sit with me:
- I’m competitive.
- I’ve never had an orgasm.
- I’m depressed, and depressing.
- I have a scar on my right thigh, from a tree-climbing accident, and it’s really ugly.
Beat.
M: Is that all?
W: Well I could go on, if you want.
M: Just out of curiosity, how many reasons do you have listed?
W: 25.
M laughs. M: OK, Well, first of all, I am sure that your right thigh is not ugly.
W: How do you know?
M: You realize the only way to prove it to me would be to show me your thighs, right?
W: Thigh.
M: Excuse me?
W: Well, I’d only have to show you my right thigh – to prove it, I mean.
M: How big is this scar anyway? I bet its so tiny, no one but you can see it.
W: Try me.
M: Excuse me?
W lifts up her skirt, quickly, then puts it down again.
M: Whoa.
Beat.
M: That is a beautiful thigh.
W laughs.
M: No, I’m serious – that’s just –
He takes his hand and starts stroking her thigh, above her skirt. She lets him do so for a minute, then pushes his hand away.
W: You still haven’t disproven my other points.
M: Well, one is obviously true. Three is clearly not, and two is easily remediable.
They look into each other’s eyes. She kisses him.
W: Come back here and convince me tomorrow.
She exits.
Scene 4: Same setting.
M: May I join you?
He sits down, without waiting for an answer.
M: I’m not going to convince you of anything. If you want to sleep with me, then sleep with me. If you don’t, you don’t. But I will tell you one thing: I like you. You’re smart and your beautiful (W smirks) – yes, I know that’s cliché! But you know what? It’s true! And I adore your right thigh!
Beat. W giggles.
M (in a harsh whisper): But if you don’t think those are good enough reasons to come home with me, then I’m sick of spending 3.99 on these lattes.
W: Yeah; they taste like shit, don’t they?
They both laugh.
W: Well, shall we?
They throw their cups out on their way out.
W: You still haven’t convinced me that it should be your apartment and not mine, you know.
M: Can I convince you on the subway?
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