so, here is a part of a play that i’ve been working on. I call it The Blind Daters, and it’s about, well, a couple who go on a series of blind dates with random people, at the same Italian restaurant, until hey eventually try one with each other. It almost works, they seem so perfect for each other, but something’s not quite right, and the guy excuses himself and leaves. She then talks a bit with the waiter and they go off to an Irish pub together, anything NOT Italian, and the guy comes back on and gives a closing monologue to the audience.
So, here is the opening monologue and introduction by the waiter, and then a scene between the girl and one of her dates. I had a lot of fun writing this.
Joe: Hello and welcome to my little Italian restaurant. No, I don’t own it, I’m, just the waiter here. My name’s Joe, Joe Sharpiro.
You know, I’ve been working here for quite a while, and I think I’ve pretty much seen it all. I know all about love. It seems like they always go to an Italian restaurant for their first date, or their blind date, or whatever. What is it about Italian restaurants that makes everyone think of romance? I mean, i think Chinese food, or maybe even Mexican food is just as romantic, but that;s just me.
But, love is a funny thing. I’ve seen a lot of couples come in here, and I’ve seen a lot of couples leave. Usually they leave with the same person they came in with, but that’s not always the caase. And sometimes those that come in together, leave all by themselves. It’s sad, but it happens. And I’m not really sure why, that’s something about love that I’ve never quite understood. Why is it that some people just click, right off the bat, and others don’t? Is there such a thing as love at first sight, or is love a matter of how much effort one is willing to invest in a relationship? I dunno. I’ve seen some couples laugh and talk all evening, but the very next week, they’re in here with someone completely different. And I’ve seen couples who barely say a word to each other come back again and again, always in silence.
I don’t know, I’m no expert at love, but then, I’ve never claimed to be. I’m just a waiter at the little Italian restaurant down the street.
Act One, Scene (something)
Kate: Hi there, I’m Kate.
Guy: I’m Paul, pleased to meet you. (sits)
Kate: How was your day?
Paul: (At the same time) Do you come here often?
Kate: (laughing) I’m sorry, you go first.
Paul: (At the same time)(laughing) I’m sorry, you go.
Paul: (tentatively) So . . . (sees that Kate’s not talking, and continues) Do you come here often?
Kate: Actually, yes. It’s really a nice place, and not too far from home. The waiters are nice. And yourself?
Paul: I’ve nly been here once before. (Beat) Also on a blind date.
Kate: Really, how’d that go?
Paul: Um.. well, (pauses hesitantly, then smiles as if remembering something fondly) It was great. The girls was beautiful, the food was delicious, the evening was wonderful . . . I couldn’t have planned it better . . . until . . . (trails off)
Kate: Until what?
Paul: Until . . . well, you don’t want to hear about my failed date. Something happened that I should’ve foreseen, should’ve done something about, should’ve said something, but . . .
Kate: But . . .
Paul: But I remained silent and she walked away. (Beat) Anyway, enough about me and my shortcomings. What about you? Wait, I mean, I didn’t mean to talk about your shortcomings, i just meant . . .
Kate: It’s okay, I knew what you meant. You want me to talk about me for a while, so you can sit there and remember the girl you let get away.
Paul: I didn’t meant it . . .
Kate: Don’t worry about it. I know that look on your face and what it means. You’re not the first blind date I’ve been on either, and definitely not the first one I’ve had at this place. You see, i haven’t found that amazing someone yet, the someone who makes you smile when you only think about remembering them. I guess I’m still waiting.
And I know that you and I would probably have a great time tonight, laugh a bit, heck, you may even get a second date out of me if you really tried, but I also know that the entire time you’ll be thinking about her. Secretly, silently comparing me to her, and you’ve idealized her so much by now that I’m not sure even she could live up to the expectations.
But don’t worry, I don’t mind. If there’s someone you care about that much, you’ve got to at least try to get a second chance, Go. Have fun, And Paul, . . .
Kate: Good luck.
Paul: Thanks, and . . . Thank you, for everything. (stands, shakes her hand, and exits)