Warning: This play contains strong language and sexual situations. Nothing graphic, but not for the faint of heart. Viewpoints expressed by the characters herein are not necessarily those of the author.

Characters:

Jim Truman -- 24 years old, recovering Southern Baptist.  In love with Laurel, but struggling with   his own issues.
Laurel Malone -- 23 years old, recovering Catholic.  Loves Jim, but has plenty of emotional       baggage.

Steve -- Jim's high school buddy.  The sort of guy so aggressively male he's probably gay.
Catherine -- Laurel's high school buddy (and more).  Very gay.
Dawn -- Jim's ex-girlfriend.  A stripper and a merciless tease.
Cliff  -- Laurel's ex-boyfriend.  A self-assured, handsome cocksucker.

Peg Truman >
Bill Truman > Jim's parents.  Very conservative Southern Baptists.

Colin Malone>
Mary Malone> Laurel's parents.  Strong Catholics.
 

[Curtain opens to a completely darkened stage.  When the lights come up, we will see that it is a bedroom with a king-size bed as the focus of the set.  Or perhaps just the bed on an empty stage.  Either way, just need a lamp on the headboard.  There is a couple on the bed who is (we realize from aural cues) making love.  After thirty or so seconds of moaning and groaning, they climax.  There is heavy breathing, then silence, a gradual slowing down.  Jim switches on the light by the bed, to reveal he and Laurel lying on their backs, his arm around her.]

Jim: Well. . . I'm going to go make myself a sandwich.  Do you want one?

Laurel: What?

Jim: White bread, turkey, slice of cheese -- a sandwich. [with sarcastic emphasis]Can I Make You One?

Laurel: You blow my mind, you know that?

Jim: Okay, how about some leftover fried chicken, then?  It's been in the fridge awhile, but it still ought to be good.

Laurel: I cannot beLIEVE that you are thinking about food right now.

Jim: What do you mean?  We were having sex.  Sex is exercise.  Exercise burns calories.  Now we're done, and I'm hungry. [Laurel rolls away from him].  What?

Laurel: [strained patience] Do you remember what we were talking about yesterday morning?

Jim: Are you still upset about that?  Honey, I told you, if I had known you were that protective of your toothbrush, I never would have used it.  It's just that I couldn't find mine and I was late for work...

Laurel: [angrily interrupting] I'm not talking about the toothbrush, dammit!  I'm talking about cuddling!

Jim: Oh.  Oh, oh, oh. [tenderly] Honey, I'm sorry.  I thought we were cuddling, that we had cuddled, and that we were ready to go to something else that isn't cuddling.

Laurel: A minute and a half doesn't count, dear.  We have just finished the act of making love, which is a tender communion of flesh, a meeting of two minds in a perfect union; it's exhausting, it's exhilirating, it's unbelievably intimate, and I can't believe that you're planning a post-coital snack before the sheets are even dry!

Jim: I'm sorry, sweetheart.  It's not that making love with you is less than unbelievable.  It's incredible, and it's great -- and it takes a lot of energy.  What am I supposed to do?  I'm just a guy.  I get hungry, and I want to eat.

Laurel: Okay, fine.  Go make yourself a stupid sandwich.  After all, you're hungry, aren't you?  You have to get rid of the hunger.  And once you get rid of it, what will you do with the sandwich?  You won't need it anymore.  You can just put it back in the refrigerator until you're hungry again.  As long as it doesn't bother you when you're not hungry, everything's okay, right?

Jim: What are you talking about?  Honey -- I'm trying to understand.  I desperately want to understand.  But you have to help me out a little bit...

Laurel: I'm the sandwich, Jim!

Jim: You're the sandwich.  Okay.

[Steven appears beside the bed, in a blue spotlight to indicate that he's not really physically there.  Steve, Catherine, Dawn, etc. are voices in Jim and Laurel's heads, but they both can see them.]

Steven: I can't believe you're taking this shit, Jim.  "I'm a sandwich, I'm a sandwich!"  Hey, she got eaten, too, what's she complaining about?

Laurel: Who the hell is that?

Jim: Nobody.  Well -- best friend in high school.   Well, I hung out with him for four years!  Of course I'm going to have his voice in my head!

Laurel: He's disgusting.

Steve: Yeah, well you're not exactly queen of the fuckin' May either, are you?
[Catherine appears by the bed on Laurel's side.]

Catherine: Well, Laurel, you can't say I didn't tell you.  All men are either willfully ignorant or fundamentally cruel.  I told you, the only person who understands a woman is a woman.

Jim: Your best friend in high school, I take it?

Catherine: More than that, you testosterone-crazed Neandertal.

Steve: Woah, wait a minute.  She's bi?  I take it back, man, you're a fuckin' genius! [disappears]

Catherine: See?  Show me one hetero guy who doesn't think with his dick and I'll show you a dead hetero guy. [disappears]

Jim: That's ridiculous.  I know there are more important things than sex!  I love you, not just for what we do together, but for who you are.

Laurel: Well -- sometimes I just don't know.  It seems like when you're horny, you want me around.  Once you're satisfied, you don't care whether I stay or go.

Jim: Now that's not true, honey!  You know I care about you.  I buy you flowers, I take you out to dinner, I always tell you how gorgeous you look -- I even fixed your alternator, didn't I?

Laurel: How romantic.

Jim: Okay, well, maybe you can just say exactly what's on your mind all the time.  Maybe you're the queen of expressing yourself.  But I'm a guy, dammit, what am I supposed to do?  "Honey, I fixed your car" means "I love you!"

Laurel: Then how come you can't wait to get out of bed after we make love?

Jim: Honey, now, you know that isn't true.  Last night I didn't go anywhere when we were done.

Laurel: No, you didn't.  You fell asleep.

Jim: [agitated] Well, Christ, Laurel!  I'm a human being.  When I'm hungry, I want to eat.  When I'm tired, I want to sleep.

Laurel: But don't you think I'm worth staying awake for?  At least for a little while?

Jim: Of course you are, honey.  I'm sorry.  I need to pay more attention your needs.
[starts to get out of bed]

Laurel: What now?

Jim: I have to go to the bathroom!  Is there something wrong with that, too?

Laurel: [exasperated] No, not at all.  Go "drain the lizard," or whatever you call it.  I'll just lie here, unfulfilled, and if I'm lucky I'll fall asleep before you come back.

Jim: Fine.  Wait -- what did you say?

Laurel: I said if I'm lucky --

Jim: No, before that.  Did you say "unfulfilled?"  What the hell did you mean by that?  You sure as hell didn't sound unfulfilled a couple of minutes ago!

Laurel:  [quietly] I was faking, Jim.

Jim: You -- you were -- you were not!

Laurel: Yes, I was.

Jim: Fuckin' A!  Do you always?

Laurel: Not always.  You were trying awfully hard, Jim, but it just wasn't happening.  And I didn't want you to feel bad.  I care about your feelings.

Jim: I can't believe you would do that.  I can't believe you would do that to me!

Laurel: So you think this is about you?

Jim: Well, then, how could you do that to yourself?  Don't you know that a woman who fakes an orgasm is ruining her chances of having a real one?

Laurel: Look, don't quote Cosmo at me.  Do I harrass you with advice from Popular Mechanics?

Jim: Laurel -- honey -- mouse -- I care about you.  I want you to be happy.  But you grew up in your body, and I'm just getting to know it. You've got to give me a little help, or I'm never going to get any better at this.

Laurel: Okay, okay.  I'm sorry.  But I still would appreciate it if you'd be a little more attentive after sex.   Foreplay starts right after you're done having sex, you know.

Jim: Yes, Cupcake, I know, and I --

Laurel: Cupcake?

Jim: [a little too defensive] What?  It's just one of those little pet names... I thought you liked them!  Small, sweet, iced, individually wrapped in plastic -- y'know, cupcake!

Laurel: [slowly] You don't call me cupcake.

Jim: Well -- I haven't called you that before, but why not?  I call you honey and sugar and sugar cookie and just about anything else -- what's the matter with cupcake?

Laurel: No, no, no.  I didn't mean "you don't call me cupcake," I meant "you don't call me cupcake."  I'm not Cupcake.  Dawn was.

Jim: For crying out loud.  You're not doing this.  Tell me you're not doing this.

Laurel: You're thinking about her, aren't you?  You're thinking about [points] her!

[Dawn appears, either from behind the bed or off stage.  She is in a blue spotlight to indicate that she's not really there.]

Dawn: Hi, Jimmy!

Jim: You've got to be kidding me!  You're done!  It's over!

Dawn: Really, Jimmy?  Then how come you still have my picture in your wallet?

Laurel: Yeah, how come you still have her picture in your wallet?

Jim: Fine.  Okay, fine.  FINE. [brief tussle under the sheets as he pulls his underwear on.  Then he gets up, pushes Dawn to one side, picks up his pants, pulls out his wallet.  He flips through his pictures, pulls one out, and rips it up].  There and there and there.  Are you satisfied?

Dawn: But you were thinking about me when you were making love with Laurel!  You wish to God you could get me back in the sack!

Jim: I was not!  I do not!

Laurel: I knew it!

Jim: Laurel, I swear to you that I wasn't!  Didn't!  Wasn't!

Laurel: [to offstage] Rewind! [noise of a tape rewinding.  Then Jim's voice saying "Oh god o god o god, Dawn."] I knew it!  I knew you didn't say "goddamn."  How stupid do you think I am?

Jim: Okay, maybe I'm not over her. [pause] But, damn it, I thought I was in love with her.  I don't think you ever get over that.  You sure as hell don't do it in two months.  Laurel, I love you.  I love you deeply and from the bottom of my heart.  Sure, I still think about Dawn every now and again, but I'm here with you.  I want you.

Laurel: [on the point of tears] No.  I know you.  I know how you think.  If Dawn wanted you back, you'd go back in a heartbeat.  You're just incapable of commitment.

Jim: [gently] You're not talking about me right now, Laurel.

Laurel: [sniff] Yeah?  Then who the hell am I talking about?

[Cliff appears by Laurel's side of the bed, in a blue spot like Dawn.]

Cliff: Me.  You're still thinking about the last time we did it, right? You remember: I saw, I conquered, I came, then I bolted while you cried.

Laurel: Fuck you.  You hurt me, but you didn't ruin me.  I'm doing just fine.

Cliff: Yeah?

Laurel: Yeah.

Cliff: Then how come you haven't told Wonder-boy over there about the abortion?

Jim: Abortion?  Christ on a crutch, Laurel!

Laurel: Don't take that tone with me!   You told me you were pro-choice!

Jim: Well, I am -- I mean, I think anyone ought to be able to -- but you?  When were you going to tell me?  This isn't about abortion, it's about trust!

Laurel: It wasn't any of your business.  It wasn't even a big deal.

Cliff: [mocking] It wasn't even a big deal. [To Jim]  I knocked her up and took the high road.  Any wonder she has seperation anxiety?

Laurel: I do NOT have seperation anxiety!

Cliff:  No, of course not.  And there's no way this ship can sink, Captain.  Titanic is a marvel of modern engineering. [fades out]

Jim: I just can't believe you never told me.  How could you say that something like that isn't my business?  I have a right --

Laurel: You have a right to what?  To know my entire sexual history?  And what are you doing dating women with any sort of sexual history anyway, James Herbert Truman?

Jim: [bug-eyed] WHAT?

Laurel: I said --

Peg Truman: [appearing like Dawn on Jim's side] What are you doing dating women with any sort of sexual history, young man?  I told you that if you left the church, things like this would happen.  Look at you -- you're twenty-four, never had a serious relationship, not even close to marriage.  I want grandchildren, and you're shacking up with some shameless heathen tramp!

Laurel: I'm not a heathen!  I'm Catholic!

Peg Truman: [hand over heart] A Catholic!  Why don't you just rip out my heart with a spatula, Jamie?

Jim: Mom, I don't even believe in God anymore!  What do I care what religion she is?

Peg Truman: Oh!  I understand.  You've turned your back on God.  Well, we see how well you're doing without His help.  Dead-end job, tiny apartment, and a whore to warm your bed.

Laurel: Listen, you born-again freak, I am liberated.  A woman has the right to her own sexuality.  This is the ?90s.

Colin Malone: [appearing on Laurel's side] Still, I wanted my little girl to have a white wedding.  Not that you could even get married by a priest if you decided to stay with this joker.  Whatever happened to Cliff?  He was a good Catholic boy.

Laurel: Daddy, Cliff -- never mind.  Cliff was an asshole.

Cliff: [from the wings] Didn't tell the folks either, did you?

Dawn: [from the wings] and did you tell your mother that you dated a stripper?

[The following dialog is delivered in a parallel, with both Peg and Colin nagging in unison, and ending with Jim and Laurel shouting the last line together.]
 
 

[Peg and Colin disappear.  Awkward pause]

Jim: Well, now you know why you haven't met my parents yet.

Laurel:  And why you haven't met mine. [pause] Oh, Jim, what are we doing, here, anyway?

Jim: We're dating.

Laurel: We're not just dating.  We're -- you know.  And I know that shouldn't bother me and I know my parents were old-fashioned and I know that not every guy is like Cliff but still.  We're never going to be alone in here, are we?

Jim: I don't think so.

Laurel: So what are we supposed to do?

Jim: [reflective] I'm a grown-up.  I'm 24 years old.  I can make my own decisions.  I'm totally over her.  You know, I think that if I really believed all that shit, I wouldn't have to keep saying it.

Laurel: [pause] You know what?

Jim: What?

Laurel: Fuck 'em.

Jim: Huh?

Laurel: Fuck 'em.  All of them.  I love you, James Herbert Truman --

Jim: PLEASE don't say it like that.  It really creeps me out.

Laurel: Okay, okay.  I love you, Jim Truman, and I want to make love to you.  I don't care if my father doesn't approve, I don't care that my last boyfriend was an asshole, I don't even care if you still have tiny little shards of Dawn lodged in your heart.  I love you and I insist on the right to love you.

Jim: [grins] I think you've got the right idea. [clears throat]And I love you, Laurel Catherine Malone, regardless of your past sexual history or the histrionics of my mother, and I insist on the right to make love to you until we're both either dead or exhausted beyond all capacity to move. [starts to roll over on top of her]

[Steve and Catherine enter, followed by Dawn and Cliff.  Peg re-enters, joined by Bill.  Colin re-enters, joined by Mary.  Others join from the sidelines (a priest, a pastor, a guy in a football jersey, a high school-age girl in a mini-skirt, some random bystanders). They all stare expectantly at Jim and Laurel.  Jim rolls over beside Laurel.]

Laurel: [looks around] Okay.  So, fuck 'em, we don't care, right?

Jim: Right.

Laurel: So why are they all still here?

Jim: Oh, I don't think they'll ever go away.  But check this out -- Mom, I'm about to have sex with my girlfriend!  What do you have to say about that?

Peg: [opens her mouth, but no sound comes out (or very muted sound).]

Jim: Thanks, I'll keep that in mind.

[rolls over to Laurel, starts kissing her, she switches off bedside lamp, curtain.  Curtain calls to David Bowie's "Modern Love."]