(MICHAEL and MICHELLE have just sat down to dinner.)
MICHAEL: You've never cooked me this before.
MICHELLE: What?
MICHAEL: This meal. This--This particular meal.
MICHELLE: What of it?
MICHAEL: You've never cooked this particular meal before.
MICHELLE: I suppose I haven't.
(A beat.)
MICHAEL: Well?
MICHELLE: Well?
MICHAEL: What made you decide to cook it today?
MICHELLE: I don't know, I suppose. I suppose...I don't know.
(A beat.)
MICHAEL: Well, it looks wonderful.
MICHELLE: Thank you.
(MICHAEL picks up a forkful of food, but MICHELLE doesn't make a move.)
MICHAEL: Aren't you going to, uh...?
MICHELLE: I thought I'd let you eat first.
(A beat.)
MICHAEL: Why?
MICHELLE: To see if you enjoy it.
MICHAEL: I'm sure I will.
MICHELLE: I hope so.
(A beat. MICHAEL puts the fork down.)
MICHAEL: You should eat with me.
MICHELLE: I will.
MICHAEL: At the same time as me.
MICHELLE: I'm sitting here, aren't I?
MICHAEL: But you're not eating.
MICHELLE: Do you know how many times I've sat here pushing food around a plate while you gobbled down what I'd made without saying a word? Not asking me how my day was. Not telling me about yours. It's not unusual. It's gone on like that many times.
MICHAEL: Are you mad?
MICHELLE: Mad? No. Not at all. Why would I be mad?
MICHAEL: You sounded--
MICHELLE: If I were mad, would I have made you such a beautiful dinner?
(A beat.)
MICHAEL: I'm not sure I'm hungry.
MICHELLE: You're always hungry. All you do is eat.
MICHAEL: I should watch my weight.
MICHELLE: You're a handsome man. I'm very attracted to you. Eat your dinner.
MICHAEL: I'd rather not.
MICHELLE: I'm becoming offended.
MICHAEL: It's not you, you see, it's just...stomach trouble.
MICHELLE: Stomach trouble?
MICHAEL: Yes, my stomach is troubled.
MICHELLE: Oh how sad. Perhaps you should go lie down.
MICHAEL: Yes, perhaps I should.
MICHELLE: And then I can minister to you.
(A beat.)
MICHAEL: Pardon?
MICHELLE: Nurse your back to health. You'll be completely dependent on me. That's how it'll have to work.
MICHAEL: I'm sure it's nothing that serious.
MICHELLE: Oh, you can never be too sure. If you've lost your appetite, it may be something serious.
MICHAEL: I doubt it.
MICHELLE: You're not a doctor.
MICHAEL: I'm feeling better I think.
MICHELLE: Then eat your dinner.
(A beat.)
MICHAEL: You know what? You're right. I've been insensitive all these years. Scooping up food and shoveling it into my mouth like some sort of hog. You should eat first. I should get to watch you enjoy the delightful meal you've prepared before I enjoy mine.
(A beat.)
MICHELLE: All right.
(She begins to eat. She moans with pleasure as she chews. MICHAEL feels relieved.)
MICHAEL: Actually I am rather hungry.
(He picks up a fork.)
MICHELLE: I thought you might be.
MICHAEL: Well watching you eat what you've prepared for us has activated my appetite, I suppose.
(He goes to take his first bite.)
MICHELLE: Well I didn't prepare both together of course.
MICHAEL: What?
MICHELLE: I always prepare our meals separately.
MICHAEL: Why do you do that?
MICHELLE: I don't know. I suppose there are some things I would prefer to put in your meal that I'd rather not have in mine.
MICHAEL: Like what?
MICHELLE: I don't know, I suppose.
MICHAEL: Salt?
MICHELLE: Well, we both like salt.
MICHAEL: Parsley?
MICHELLE: Well, we both like parsley.
MICHAEL: Nothing too spicy I hope?
MICHELLE: Like what?
MICHAEL: Like something that would...aggravate my digestive tract? Or, uh, perhaps, my cardiac system?
(MICHELLE smiles.)
MICHELLE: Now why would I want to upset your system in such a way?
MICHAEL: I don't know. But I would hope you wouldn't.
MICHELLE: You should hope so.
MICHAEL: I do hope so.
MICHELLE: Well, there you go.
MICHAEL: Where do I go?
MICHELLE: I'm just reaffirming that--There you go.
(A beat.)
MICHEAL: I suppose I should take my first bite.
MICHELLE: I suppose you should.
MICHEAL: Before it gets cold.
MICHELLE: It won't stay warm forever.
MICHAEL: That's true.
MICHELLE: Warm things can so quickly turn cold, can't they?
MICHAEL: Yes, I suppose they can.
MICHELLE: So quickly.
MICHAEL: Yes.
MICHELLE: Before you know, everything's gone--cold.
(A moment. MICHAEL picks up his fork, food on it, and brings it to his mouth, as--)
Blackout
No comments:
Post a Comment