FACADES
(a one-act by Bob Zolnerzak)
FACADES
[Scene: An outdoor patio with a small table downstage center flanked by two chairs. It is night, with country noises of crickets or cicadas. Light comes from stage left, which is the only entrance and exit.]
OLDER MAN enters from stage left, carrying a drink. He is in his 50s, dressed in suit trousers and a white shirt. He has removed his tie and rolled up his sleeves. He is slightly drunk; he becomes drunker as the scene progresses.
OLDER MAN
He was just so fucking beautiful!
YOUNGER MAN enters from stage left, carrying a drink and a bag of chips. He is in his 40s, dressed casually in khakis and a Lacoste polo shirt. He is sober.
YOUNGER MAN
Um-hmmm.
OLDER MAN
No, wait a minute. [OLDER MAN plunks his drink onto the table and sprawls into the stage-right chair.] No, he wasn't beautiful, but his arms, and his forearms, and his shoulders---they were beautiful.
[YOUNGER MAN places his drink carefully onto the table, puts the bag of chips beside it, and sits down in the stage-left chair.]
YOUNGER MAN
Um-hmmm.
OLDER MAN
He was tanned---not too dark, you understand---but in the candlelight I could see the golden hair on his forearms shine against his tanned skin.
YOUNGER MAN
What was he wearing?
OLDER MAN
A black polo shirt, with short black sleeves so that you could see his biceps---such beautiful biceps---and black jeans. Not too tight, but you could see he had good legs, too. Oh, my goodness. [OLDER MAN sips his drink. He continues to sip his drink until he finishes it.]
YOUNGER MAN
That bad, hmm? [He looks impassively at OLDER MAN. He does not drink.]
OLDER MAN
Oh, yes, he was that beautiful---[Laughs ruefully.]---it was that bad.
YOUNGER MAN
Um-hmmm.
OLDER MAN
[Sighs.] I just couldn't think of anything to say to him. [Pause.] What could I say? "Excuse me, but I just love the way your arms attach to your body"? I kept staring at him, and he kept smiling back at me, just like a good waiter should. "Pardon me, but could I lean on your shoulder and just weep"? Not likely. [Sips.] He kept asking me if everything was OK. I thought of saying "It would be perfect if you could come back to the Island with me." Wouldn't that go over just fine? [YOUNGER MAN chuckles understandingly.] I thought if I just kept staring at him, he'd have to take the hint. The least he could say was something like, "Do you like what you see?" I thought I could manage to take it from there.
YOUNGER MAN
I'll bet you could.
OLDER MAN
He wasn't swishy---in fact, I thought he might not even be gay---but when he was preparing a table that had been vacated earlier---putting on the knives and forks and napkins and glasses?---he finished and went---[He pats the air as if patting the heads of two children at waist-level in front of him.]---like, "There, now that's just perfect." So then I knew he had to be gay.
YOUNGER MAN
Ummmm.
OLDER MAN
So beautiful---and so conscientious! He was ever the soul of politeness---even with the women. Oh, I imagined everyone would be crazy about him. It wasn't that he was even handsome---his face was too thin and his nose was too big and his hair was cut too short---
YOUNGER MAN
You could always put a bag over his head.
OLDER MAN
But his biceps were so gorgeous---and, do you know, he had a tattoo on his right bicep---it was the tattoo of an arm---and it looked like his arm! I wanted to ask him if that tattoo was a self-portrait! I got a good look at it as he was serving the single guy at the table next to mine---oh, that guy! I thought he must come in there every night to try to make the waiter notice him. I was sorry I hadn't remembered the waiter's name. "Good evening, sir; my name's Larry or Jerry or Whatever." And I was hoping that he'd tell this guy his name. But he didn't! So obviously they knew each other already.
YOUNGER MAN
Maybe he only gave you his name.
OLDER MAN
This guy probably comes in there every single night, always sitting at the same table, trying to think of something witty to say to this gorgeous waiter, probably over-tipping---I over-tipped, too, of course. That's one good thing about being beautiful, you probably get over-tipped by lots of people trying to impress you. But what chance would there be for a guy like me? None whatsoever! Not a chance in the world. [Drinks.] Not a goddam chance in the goddam world.
[YOUNGER MAN has been looking steadily, expressionless, at the OLDER MAN. As the OLDER MAN slumps in his chair, the YOUNGER MAN gazes around the patio, then looks out at the sky above the audience.]
YOUNGER MAN
The moon is beautiful tonight.
OLDER MAN
And even then I couldn't remain faithful.
YOUNGER MAN
Ummm?
OLDER MAN
Just when I was totally smitten by this gorgeous waiter---this gorgeous waiter's arms and shoulders, anyway---in walked the father and the son.
YOUNGER MAN
The father and the son?
OLDER MAN
They really looked like they could be father and son. The father was tall and gray and had funny little close-together eyes, behind glasses. And the son was tall, even taller, and dark-haired and had the same funny little close-together eyes, with almost the same kind of glasses.
YOUNGER MAN
They sure sound like father and son.
OLDER MAN
Except, actually, they weren’t father and son, because later, in their conversation, the older man started talking about the younger man's father, so he couldn't have been the father.
YOUNGER MAN
No.
OLDER MAN
This kid was even sexier than the waiter. He was wearing these old, tight, faded blue jeans---long old blue jeans---I mean, when he sat down at this table, it was as if he were sitting down at a child's tea-table. His knees touched the bottom of the table, and when he bent over to put his elbows on it, he looked like he was crouched into a ball. For a long time he didn't even put his right knee---that was the one toward me---under the table. He just stuck it out at a right angle, along the edge of the table, and here was this magnificent cylinder---[He outlines it in the air in front of him.]---of his thigh, not a single wrinkle in the whole length of jeans. This---this---perfect tube of thigh---and I thought, "I'll bet no one's ever run his tongue up and down that perfect length of thigh." He was maybe seventeen, so maybe his thighs were still hairless---imagine that expanse of skin, flawless skin over the strong thighbone---you could chew on it like an enormous chicken thigh---this---this sausage of flesh under the blue jeans. [OLDER MAN discovers his drink is empty. He glances over at YOUNGER MAN, who slides his untouched drink across the table toward OLDER MAN, who picks it up and starts sipping it as if it were his own.] I wonder how long that thigh was---it must have been at least three feet long.
YOUNGER MAN
Probably not quite.
OLDER MAN
And enormous boats of shoes---I don't know---size 12 or 13 or 14? But the funny thing was, he had small hands. What does that mean---big cock and tiny balls? [They both laugh at the thought.] Oh, God. [Suddenly serious.] But, you know, I actually felt guilty after a bit.
YOUNGER MAN
Hmmm?
OLDER MAN
Well, here I'd fallen head over heels in love with this gorgeous waiter---or at least his arms and shoulders---and then, without even having him, there I was being unfaithful to him by falling in love with this beautiful teenager---or at least his thighs.
YOUNGER MAN
Ah.
OLDER MAN
Isn't that just terrible? I almost felt guilty looking back at the waiter's arms and shoulders. After all, what kind of impression was I making on him? First I was all eyes for his arms and shoulders, and now here I am cruising some customer's thighs! [YOUNGER MAN shakes his head slowly from side to side.] I tried to fantasize some kind of kinky sex between the older man and the younger man, but the younger man was just SO young, it wasn't really believable. Probably just family friends.
YOUNGER MAN
Probably.
OLDER MAN
But he'll be a heartbreaker in a couple of years. And then he didn't look very gay. [OLDER MAN glances at the chips on the table.] Are you eating your chips? [YOUNGER MAN opens bag of chips and hands them to OLDER MAN, who munches them to the end.] But I'm pretty sure the waiter was gay. I even---oh, you're not going to believe this---
YOUNGER MAN
Oh?
OLDER MAN
---When I handed him my credit card, I said, "You probably haven't heard of a name like that before." I was hoping he'd look at it, and remember it, and telephone me, and---oh---
YOUNGER MAN
No one telephoned.
OLDER MAN
No, of course not! I even said, "I'm all the way out on the Island." I wanted to say, "It's out in the 516 area code," but I thought that would sound too much like I was begging him to call me---oh, it's so hopeless.
YOUNGER MAN
No.
OLDER MAN
Oh, yes it is. He'll never call. He probably gets a couple of people---men and women---falling all over him every night. Why would he call someone like me? What would we do? He can find all kinds of attractive guys---if that's what he wants. I could never get anyone like that. Never!
YOUNGER MAN
No.
OLDER MAN
I wish I could stop looking. What good does it do if nothing ever comes of it? I could look until my eyes fall out onto the table, he'd never telephone me. Particularly since I was unfaithful to him with those incredible thighs! I wonder if these kids with their big bones and their flawless flesh know what they have. They probably don't. They're probably worried about the girl next door---or the boy next door---or passing their next test---or borrowing their father's car---or kissing up to their fathers' friends---no, that's not right---like I said, I really don't think that kid and his father's friend were really doing anything. Oh, I don't know----
YOUNGER MAN
We should start thinking about going in.
OLDER MAN
It just doesn't do any good to look anymore. What good does it do? [OLDER MAN has finished the chips. He crumples the bag into a small ball and pops it into his empty glass. YOUNGER MAN rises from his chair to stand behind the OLDER MAN.] No good at all. [OLDER MAN looks at empty chair across from him.] Yes, I guess it's about time to go in. [OLDER MAN struggles out of his chair by himself. YOUNGER MAN moves to pick up the two empty glasses.] And then, on the way over to Penn Station, there was this gorgeous guy on the street---sleeves hacked off above the shoulders, huge shoulders, marvelous tan---oh my God, where does this younger generation get these bodies!
YOUNGER MAN
[Chuckling.] You're insatiable.
OLDER MAN
He was carrying some kind of carton, and the veins on his arm stood out in the street light, and he had these tight little black curls on his head, and tight little black curls coming out of the top of his hacked-off shirt---I just couldn't take my eyes off him.
YOUNGER MAN
I know how it is.
OLDER MAN
He just didn't seem to be aware of his beauty at all. Those wonderful veins on his arms, that beautiful hair---I don't think he was aware at all.
YOUNGER MAN
Maybe not.
OLDER MAN
It's such a waste. It's just such a waste.
YOUNGER MAN
You're tired. You'll feel better in the morning. [OLDER MAN looks at the empty table, looks stage left, then slowly starts walking toward the exit. YOUNGER MAN walks behind him, his hand lightly on the OLDER MAN's shoulder.] Come up to bed.
END