The Mailer Review/Volume 3, 2009/It’ll Pass, It Always Does

From Project Mailer
« The Mailer ReviewVolume 3 Number 1 • 2009 • Beyond Fiction »
Written by
John Buffalo Mailer
Abstract: A Play.
URL: https://prmlr.us/mr03mai4

SETTING:
A Laundromat. Present day.

CHARACTERS:
HENRY - Mid-twenties.
JOANNE - Mid-twenties. They have been living together for four years.
ROGER - Mid-twenties. A smooth player.
MAXIM - Mid-twenties. An unlikely friend of Roger’s.
JESSICA - Six years old.
The BABYSITTER - Twenty. Currently attending community college.

(Lights up on Henry and Joanne. They fold their clothes and put them in a basket.)

HENRY
It’ll pass, it always does.

JOANNE
Do you really think saying that makes it better?

HENRY
You’ve just gotten into one of your moods. This has nothing to do with me. I’m not going to fight with you.

JOANNE
Just because you’re not the reason I was originally mad, doesn’t mean I’m not pissed at you now. I mean my God, you have no empathy for me.

HENRY
How can I have empathy for you when you don’t make any sense? I don’t see how you go from one thing to the next.

JOANNE
That’s the problem, you don’t understand women’s logic.

HENRY
What kind of logic justifies you shifting your anger onto me?

JOANNE
Sometimes I think you really do hate women.

HENRY
Who the hell are you to tell me I hate women? Do you have any concept as to how large a statement that is? Jesus Christ, woman. I happen to love the female sex, and everything that goes along with it. Is this your monthly thing?

JOANNE
You know what? I’m done talking to you.

HENRY
Oh, that’s very mature, Joanne. Give me the silent treatment. It seems unreasonable that we’re not able to discuss things as adults. Doesn’t it seem that way to you? Am I really out of line on this? I don’t even know what we’re fighting about . . .

JOANNE
That’s the problem, Henry. You don’t listen.

HENRY
I’ve been listening to every word you’ve said. I swear. I still don’t know what we’re fighting about.

JOANNE
You need to listen to what I mean, not what I say.

HENRY
But wouldn’t it be easier if you just said what you meant?

JOANNE
Of course it would be easier, Henry. What does that matter?

HENRY
If you did, maybe we could . . .

(Maxim and Roger enter and go over to the washing machines where they begin to transport their laundry from the washers to the dryers.)

JOANNE
So now I’m supposed to make everything easy for you? Is that it? You’d like that, wouldn’t you? You’d love for me to do everything for you, just like your mother did.

HENRY
Woah there. I really don’t think you need to bring my mother into this.

JOANNE
And don’t think I’m angry because of my “monthly thing” as you call it.

HENRY
Well, that doesn’t seem unreasonable to me. Here you are, in a public place, aimlessly angry with me. What conclusion should I draw?

JOANNE
How about your performance in bed last night, Henry? Did you ever think maybe that has something to do with it?

HENRY
(In a hushed voice) I told you I was sorry.

JOANNE
Oh, you’re sorry all right.

HENRY
What is wrong with you?

JOANNE
There has to be something wrong with me. Figures. You’d never assume the problem is with you. “It can’t be anything wrong with me, oh no, it must be her.” That is so typical.

HENRY
Well, you sure as Hell don’t give me much inspiration . . .

JOANNE
And I’m sorry to tell you this, but your penis is very small.

HENRY
(Looking to see if the two guys have noticed. They have, but at this point they have already looked away.) I thought you said size doesn’t matter.

JOANNE
I said size doesn’t matter if you have technique. You have no TECHNIQUE!

HENRY
I really don’t think this is the time or place to do this.

JOANNE
What are we doing Henry? Huh? What, are we talking? Oh that’s right, you don’t like to talk. We never do it. That’s why you don’t want to do this.

HENRY
I am not wrong in wanting to avoid this topic in a Goddamn Laundromat!

JOANNE
Of course you’re not wrong, dear. You’re never wrong.

HENRY
Right, right, I’m never wrong. Fuck you I’m never wrong.

JOANNE
I am not your mother, Henry . . .

HENRY
Damn right, my mother isn’t a moron.

JOANNE
I might as well just leave now.

HENRY
WELL I’M SURE AS HELL NOT STOPPING YOU... !

(Maxim and Roger pause for a moment, but quickly go back to folding their laundry and their conversation.)

JOANNE
I used to smile every time I thought of you.

HENRY
I want this to work, Joanne. I love you. Don’t I make you happy?

(She folds her last pair of socks, drops it into the laundry basket, looks at Henry one last time, and exits. Henry looks dumbfounded for a moment, realizes she has left him, and runs after her, laundry basket in hand.)

ROGER
It’ll pass, it always does.

MAXIM
I don’t know, man. This is some scary shit. I’ve never had a rash down there before.

ROGER
I’m telling you, you’re getting yourself all worked up over nothing. Give it a couple of days, it’ll go away.

MAXIM
Are you sure, ’cause it’s been three already? I’m really starting to get worried.

ROGER
Trust me, it’s nothing.

MAXIM
This is so comme il faut ...

ROGER
Huh?

MAXIM
Fitting.

ROGER
What is?

MAXIM
That I caught something. It’s so fucking perfect! The one time I have a random hookup, I get a Goddamn venereal disease. I never should have listened to you. If I had stayed home that night and rubbed one out like I wanted to, I wouldn’t be dealing with this now. But, no, you had to make me go out to the club.

ROGER
I didn’t make you go out.

MAXIM
You didn’t make me go out? “Come out to the club, Max. It’ll be a good time. We’ll get you laid. Women there like you only dream about.” I’m such an asshole. Why do I keep listening to you?

ROGER,
All right, so I made you go out. I didn’t tell you to go home with the town higgledy-piggledy.

MAXIM
What the Hell’s a higgledy-piggledy?

ROGER
An indiscriminate.

MAXIM
Why didn’t you tell me she was a Goddamn higgledy-piggledy when you saw me leaving with her?

ROGER
I figured you knew what you were doing. What am I, your father? I gotta’ take care of you? You’re an adult, Max. It’s about time you started taking some responsibility for your actions.

MAXIM
Look, forget it. I have to get this looked at.

ROGER
You’re worrying about nothing.

MAXIM
Roger, there’s a mauve rash on my balls and it hurts every time I pee; I think there might be something wrong with me.

ROGER
Everyone’s got a little something wrong with their balls, you just learn to deal with yours and be thankful it’s not something worse.

MAXIM
Are you kidding me? Do you hear the words coming out of your mouth? No, everyone does not have a little something wrong with their ... (notices a small child who has just entered with her Babysitter) You-know-whats. In fact most people think it’s a pretty big deal when something’s wrong down there.

ROGER
Was it fun?

MAXIM
What?

ROGER
Did you have a good time that night?

MAXIM
That’s not the point, Roger. I’m trying to get at something deeper here.

ROGER
No, Max, that is exactly the point; you don’t know how to have a good time.

MAXIM
I most certainly do know how to have a good time.

ROGER
Last time we went to a ball game, you had a bad hot-dog and got sick. We go to a club, you take the wrong girl home and get a V.D.. It’s always something with you.

MAXIM
What, it’s my fault I got a bad hot-dog and a girl with the clap?

ROGER
I’m sorry Max, but yes, it’s your fault.

MAXIM
It’s bad luck. I can’t control that.

ROGER
Yes you can.

MAXIM
You can control your luck?

ROGER
If you know how to have a good time, yes.

MAXIM
I have a good time. I always have a good time. Don’t I look like I have a good time?

ROGER
Max, if you worry about whether or not everything you do is dirty, you’re gonna’ get an infection.

MAXIM
I don’t follow.

ROGER
You have to free yourself up, man. You’ve got to live a little. Otherwise, you won’t look back with fond memories.

MAXIM
How many women have you slept with?

ROGER
I don’t know.

MAXIM
It’s okay, I’m not gonna’ get mad or laugh or anything, I just want to know.

ROGER
I don’t need a lecture, Max.

MAXIM
I promise, no lecture. I just need to know.

ROGER
Two hundred and seventy-six.

MAXIM
(Pause. Maxim cannot help himself and a laugh explode.) That’s fucking ridiculous! Why hasn’t your you know what fallen off?!

. . .