Sam Pink - The Self-Esteem Holocaust Comes Home

WOMAN: Why not? Just, come back and sleep with me. It’s nothing. You’ll like it. Blisters are just small happinesses trying to leave you. It’s nothing. We can fix those. It’s nothing.

MAN: [after coughing again] It is nothing. But I want to sleep by myself.

The woman begins to scratch the back of his neck. She studies his face.

WOMAN: Tag [watching her own hand on his neck] I think it’d be nice to sleep together. If anyone tried to kill you while you slept, I would be there to help you. You know I could defend you, you know. You know? Are you still nervous? I’m ready [pause] I’m ready. I’m a knife that’s so sharp I never actually touch the ground, I keep falling through things. You know? [smiles] Tag.

MAN: [turning from his stare] Which way is it to my place? I’m just going to walk. I can walk it. I’m going.

WOMAN: [quietly] It’d be nice to go to my place and sleep in my bed, together. I have such a big bed. It’s nice. Just once. Please come with me.

He backs away from her hand.

MAN: [turns to window] How do I get home?

Shivering, he drops the cigarette. The cigarette falls to the wet floormat.

WOMAN: It’s awful to sleep alone — a lot awful.

The man sits up in his seat.

MAN: [thoughtfully] I don’t know. I like to stretch my legs and arms out. That kind of behavior is incompatible with two people in one bed. Plus, my dick looks like a burnt match. Actually, I have a disease so bad I can’t even think of what it is called or how to continue this lie. So you don’t want that [turns slowly to her, speaking slow, soft] Haha when the burnt match fucks you, you will have a belly full of disgusting smoke and it will hurt. It will hurt in a way that makes you think, “Nothing has hurt before.”

She ignores him, frowning, looking out the windshield at the snow.

WOMAN: It’s awful to sleep alone. Awful. Why do you want to sleep in a bed small enough for only you? [teasing] If you had a choice there would be walls around your bed.

MAN: I heard you.

WOMAN: [lowers heater] I think it’d be nice to sleep together. There’s nothing worse than thinking you have to be friends with someone and then trying too hard. I’m doing that with you and I think you’re doing that with me [reaches out and touches his shoulder] Tag. [laughs softly]

MAN: [looks out his window] I can walk I think [undoes seatbelt] Which way is fastest? I don’t want to get buried in the snow. That’s scary, and terrible. I have to go now. I have to go.

WOMAN: [quietly] Please. Please sleep in my bed.

She waits for him to answer. He half-turns and looks at his feet.

MAN: I wonder if anyone is thinking about me right now.

WOMAN: No [puts her hand back on his neck] No you are wishing you could transform into the cigarette that is extinguished in the wetness by your feet. But you don’t know the proper magical spell that would transform you. Maybe the spell is complete quiet. Yes. You are hoping the spell is complete quiet. Tag.

MAN: [looking at his lap] I hope the spell is complete quiet.

The woman continues to lightly scratch his neck. With her other hand she wipes some snowflakes off her lap. Both the front windows are still open and the heater is on high.

WOMAN: Do you want to sleep in my bed with me then?

MAN: [looking at her] If sleeping alone is bad, you should figure out how to make people like you [pause] Always figure out how to make people like you. Rule number one. Do that.

She ignores him. She looks out the windshield at the snow.

WOMAN: [evenly] It’s awful to sleep alone.

MAN: I heard you [then in unnaturally deep voice] Fear that I will eat your body from the asshole on into complete failure.

WOMAN: [pauses] Would it be ok if I slept in my car, parked on your street then? Is that ok? Can I do that? At least that then.

The man puts his head in his hands.

MAN: I’m too scared to leave. But I can’t let the snow bury me.

The woman turns the car off.

WOMAN: [to no one] I worry that all the perfect moments are accumulating in me. And that there are too many. You are in trouble when you sit down and say, ‘I want to feel this, this is mine.’ I think that’s what’s happening. All the perfect moments are trying to punish me. Punish me for thinking about hurting you. I’m sorry.

MAN: [taking head out of hands, confused] What?

WOMAN: [tries not to smile] When I was trying to park earlier — and you got out to move the shopping cart — when you did that, I had to try really hard not to press the gas down and run you over. I thought about how heavy the car would be on your body. It felt amazing thinking about how heavy the car would be on your body.

MAN: [scratches cheek, nods] Probably too heavy.

WOMAN: Yes. So effective [touching his arm] Sometimes when we are together, like right now for instance, I think about being your mom right after she had you and I am holding you and you can’t tell me you don’t want it anymore. Thinking about being your mother on the day of your birth and thinking about running you over with a car are the two things I love the most. You know?

The man is quiet. More snow and cold go into the car. The car is not running anymore.

WOMAN: Tag.

MAN: [slowly] There always has to be a loser.

The lights go out in the grocery store and the other stores in the strip mall too.

WOMAN: Tag. I think about death sometimes a lot and sometimes not at all, but when I do think about it I always think, ‘Did I do everything right, is it ok?’ [as if finally admitting] There is no bed big enough for me and there is no bed small enough for you. I know that for sure, cross my heart and hope to run you over with a car [pause] Tag.

They stare out the windshield at the snow. Some people exit the grocery store, say goodbye and get in their cars. Gone.

MAN: [watching them drive away] I’m tired in a way that will go unresolved for at least another week.

WOMAN: [staring through the windshield] Me too.

The wind picks up and pushes a shopping cart a little bit. The shopping cart hits a small patch of snow, stops. They both laugh and find they are holding hands.

WOMAN: You are thinking about saying “tag” but you don’t want to ruin anything. You don’t want to make me chase you [pause] Tag [kisses his cheek] Thank you for being here. Do you still want to walk home?

MAN: [ignores her] Whenever I go outside, I hope to get picked up and blown away. But it never happens. I just stand there. The wind moves around me. Yesterday I figured out that I am a small, human-shaped negative and the world is a giant space with a small human-shaped negative removed from it. And we’re good for each other [sniffs] We’re good food for each other.

WOMAN: Right.

There is loud wind. The woman wipes some snow off her cheek.

WOMAN: We will be in love until the earth grabs its chest and shrinks. Over and over again. There has to be a loser.

MAN: [turns to the woman] Never.

WOMAN: Oh [reaches towards backseat] I forgot. This is for you [produces a package] Happy Birthday, Arnold.

MAN: It’s not my birthday.

WOMAN: Sure it is, Arnold.

MAN: [confused] It’s not my birthday, and my name’s not Arnold.

WOMAN: [ignores] Open it up, Arnold.

The man takes the package and undoes the wrapping paper. Inside there’s a calculator.

MAN: [looking at calculator] Thanks.

The woman touches his arm.

WOMAN: Happy birthday, Arnold [pointing out the window at someone crossing the parking lot] Who’s that, Arnold?

MAN: I don’t know [confused] My name isn’t Arnold [pause] I’m not Arnold. [looking off to where she’s pointing]

WOMAN: [arching her head] Oh I think it’s just a policeman [smiling] What do you think, Arnold?