Better Places to Go Read online

  BETTER PLACES TO GO

  A Stage Play by David-Matthew Barnes

  Better Places to Go (1st ed. – 11.18.13)

  Copyright © 2013 by David-Matthew Barnes

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  All rights reserved. This stage play is fully protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America. No part of this script may be reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This stage play may include references to brand names and trademarks owned by third parties, and may include references to public figures. The author is not necessarily affiliated with these public figures, or with the owners of such trademarks and brand names. Such references are included solely for parody, political comment, or other permitted purposes.

  Editor: Monica Augustine

  Cover Design by James, GoOnWrite.com

  Publisher: Pinwheel Plays

  Cast of Characters

  RICARDO: A Mexican-American busboy who struggles with his identity; the object of his best friend’s desire.

  ROSIE: An embittered young waitress who secretly fuels dreams of starting a new life.

  CANDACE: A neurotic and somewhat self-centered bride-to-be.

  DEREK: Harboring feelings of love for his best friend, he is suicidal and manic.

  JUDY: Lovelorn and hopelessly romantic; she awaits the return of her Prince Charming.

  LUCILLE: Bored with her mundane life, she dreams of being abducted by aliens.

  NATHAN: Aggressive and controlling, he takes advantage of everyone and everything.

  BRITNEY: A woman trapped in a tumultuous relationship; she lacks the courage to leave.

  MAXINE: A maid of honor whose keeping a secret from her best friend – the bride.

  LINDA: A pregnant teenaged girl who’s just left a man more than twice her age.

  Place

  A rundown truck stop diner just west of Grand Island, Nebraska off of Interstate 80.

  Time

  A Friday night. Early autumn. Present year.

  The Story

  A horrendous storm looms overs a rundown truck stop diner in Grand Island, Nebraska, bringing together ten people who start to reveal damaging secrets as the night goes on.

  Acknowledgements

  Many, many people helped Better Places to Go become the stage play and script it is. To them, I offer my deepest gratitude.

  First and foremost, thank you to the award-winning original cast and production team of the world premiere.

  To Tony White, for producing not one but two New York productions of the script.

  And to the people of Grand Island, Nebraska, who inspired every word.

  Better Places to Go received a world premiere** at The California Stage Company in Sacramento. The play opened on March 21, 2003. The show was produced by Nick A. Moreno for DNPAC Productions. The Costume Designer was Jeanne Menendez. The Lighting Designer was Ron Madonia. The original cast was as follows:

  RICARDO

  E. Ambriz DeColosio

  ROSIE

  Tara Henry

  CANDACE

  Vanessa Menendez

  DEREK

  Logan Hesse

  JUDY

  Therese Llanes

  LUCILLE

  Susan Madden

  NATHAN

  Richard Falcon

  BRITNEY

  Ioana Teora

  MAXINE

  Elizabeth David

  LINDA

  Jamie Lynn Kale

  **The world premiere was recognized by the Sacramento Area Regional Theatre Alliance. The production received two Elly Awards for Best Original Script and Best Original Production.

  Better Places to Go received a New York premiere at The Creative Place Theatre. The play opened on January 21, 2004. The show was directed by Tony White and produced by Love Creek Productions. Costumes were designed by Tony White. Lights were designed by Mark Kinch. The Stage Manager was Alison Burke. The first New York cast was as follows:

  Robin Albury, Kelly Barrett, Margaret Champagne, Ryan De Mesa, Barbara Miluski, Deva Nicole, Rebecca Nyahay, Ryan Victor Pierce*, Russell Russo and Amy Beth Sherman* (*Member of AEA)

  Excerpts from this script have been featured in Young Women's Monologues from Contemporary Plays, 60 Seconds to Shine, and the Audition Arsenal monologue series.

  BETTER PLACES TO GO

  by David-Matthew Barnes

  ACT ONE: SCENE ONE

  (As the lights come up, we are inside of Della’s Diner, a rundown truck stop diner located just west of Grand Island, Nebraska off of Interstate 80.

  The place seems strangely vacated, almost ghostly.

  The décor is both dated and faded. There are a few tables, chairs, a main counter, a door to the kitchen, a door to a restroom, and a main entrance from a parking lot.

  Two of the tables are covered with plates, silverware and coffee cups, as customers have just left.

  A horrible storm looms over the area, casting a murky glow over everything. It is only six o’clock, but it feels much later.

  A transistor radio sits on the main counter, playing something by a dead singer softly in the background. The music fades out.)

  RADIO ANNOUNCER: It’s going to be a wicked night, Grand Island. Weather reports say we’re expecting high winds, electrical storms, and more rain than we’ll know what to do with. My advice: get somewhere safe, cuddle up with the one you love, and hold on tight.

  (An older song comes on, a duet.

  ROSIE, a waitress in her early twenties, enters from the kitchen. Her presence is commanding. She grabs a bottle of nail polish and a fashion magazine from the main counter. She sits in a booth, paints her fingernails, reads her magazine. She starts to sing along with the song on the radio.

  RICARDO, a young and striking Mexican-American man in his early twenties, enters from the kitchen. He is carrying a bus tray. He stops to turn off the radio. He starts to clear the tables.)

  RICARDO. You got any plans tonight, Rosie?

  ROSIE. I heard things about you. Last night, down at Clyde’s.

  RICARDO. I asked you a question.

  ROSIE. I asked you first.

  RICARDO. No, you didn’t. You didn’t ask me anything.

  ROSIE. Are the rumors true?

  RICARDO. When are you leaving?

  ROSIE. When the time is right.

  RICARDO. (After a moment:) The rumors aren’t true.

  ROSIE. (She stands.) Bullshit. That’s what I say. Bull – shit. You’re lying, Ricardo. Like I even care. If you and Derek are –

  RICARDO. You’ll never leave this place. You’re gonna die here.

  ROSIE. (She moves to the table that he is clearing. Purposely, she knocks over the salt and pepper shakers.) I hate you. If everybody knew what a jerk you were –

  RICARDO. If everybody knew what a compulsive liar you were –

  ROSIE. Faggot.

  RICARDO. Aw, come on, Rosie. You can do better than that.

  ROSIE. My boyfriend didn’t want me to take this job because you’re a dumb Mexican and all Mexican’s steal money and rape women.

  RICARDO. You’re not my type.

  ROSIE. (With a gesture to her breasts:) Obviously.

  RICARDO. You don’t even have a boyfriend.

  ROSIE. No?

  RICARDO. No, you don’t.

  ROSIE. But you do.

  RICARDO. Nothing’s worse than wa
tching you lie to people.

  ROSIE. I don’t lie.

  RICARDO. You lie to every person who walks in the door. Just to sucker ‘em outta their money.

  ROSIE. People like me, asshole. They give me tips.

  (Rosie collects her tips from a table; a handful of loose change.)

  RICARDO. People feel sorry for you because you tell ‘em that your mother is dying of cancer or that your father had a heart attack or that you have three starving babies at home and they all got scurvy.

  ROSIE. It’s part of the job. I tell people what they wanna hear. I pretend to be someone I’m not just to make them happy.

  RICARDO. Yeah, so do I.

  ROSIE. It makes people feel better about themselves if they think they’re helping someone who is less than them. Like they’re doing some good deed for the white trash of the world. Dumb fuckers don’t realize I’m smarter than them. I get ‘em their drinks. I bring ‘em plates of food. I tell the wives they look young. I flirt with the husbands. I touch their ugly babies: pat their bald heads, kiss their sticky faces. It’s their money that I really want. They always leave me a little extra, because I’m so sweet. (She pretends that she is waiting on a customer; very convincing:) What a beautiful family you have. It’s always nice to see people so happy together. Really, it warms my heart. (The façade is gone.) I know how to get what I want.

  RICARDO. You never answered my question.

  ROSIE. Yeah, I got big plans tonight.

  RICARDO. You’re gonna go home alone like you always do.

  ROSIE. You just don’t know, Ricardo. I’m so sick and tired of this place. I’d love to set it on fire and watch it burn to the ground. (Beat.) You got any matches on you, hot boy? It gets to a person after a while. It crawls all over me like a rash. Like poison fucking ivy. (Beat.) How in the hell did I get stuck in Nebraska?

  RICARDO. You were born here.

  ROSIE. But you weren’t. I’ll never figure out why the hell you stay.

  RICARDO. Same reason you do. There’s no place like home.

  ROSIE. Hey, there’s better places to go than this God forsaken shit hole. (She rips open a package of crackers.)

  RICARDO. How would you know? You’ve never even been outside of Nebraska.

  ROSIE. (Shoving crackers into her mouth:) So! I’ve been to Lincoln. And me and my grandmother went to Omaha last summer. She had to go see a specialist for her rheumatism.

  RICARDO. You hate that old woman.

  ROSIE. She’s lazy.

  RICARDO. Be nice. She lets you live with her for free.

  ROSIE. Someone has to take care of her.

  RICARDO. Is she still obsessed with aliens?

  ROSIE. She swears the mother ship is coming for her any day now. (Beat.) I just wish the fuckers would hurry up and get here and take her away.

  RICARDO. There’s a storm coming tonight.

  ROSIE. You bet your ass there is. Maybe you and your psycho lover boy will get blown away in a tornado. Or better yet, maybe the two of you can hitch a ride with my grandmother and fly off to Saturn where you all belong.

  RICARDO. (Aside:) God willing.

  (JUDY, a petite and timid woman in her early thirties, enters.)

  ROSIE. (To Judy:) Don’t you have anything else better to do?

  JUDY. (Nervous; tearful:) It’s been a week. I can’t take it anymore.

  ROSIE. He isn’t coming back.

  JUDY. Yes, he is. He promised.

  ROSIE. Tell her Ricardo.

  RICARDO. What do you want me to tell her?

  ROSIE. That all he wanted was a piece of lonely ass and as soon as she gave it up, he hit the road and he ain’t coming back.

  RICARDO. Judy, are you hungry?

  JUDY. (Only to Ricardo:) I haven’t been able to eat much. I’m nervous all the time. My hands are shaking. My heart is rattled. I can’t even concentrate. Ricardo, do you think I’ve gone mad?

  ROSIE. He’s a truck driver that you spent a night with in a sleazy motel. Get over it.

  JUDY. It wasn’t like that, Rosie. You wouldn’t know because you hate the world and you’ve never been in love.

  ROSIE. (Angered:) I have so been in love, for your information. (She glances quickly at Ricardo, then:) There are things about me that you don’t know. I got secrets and I’m taking ‘em with me to the grave. (She returns to the task of painting her nails.)

  JUDY. Well, you just keep quiet about him. He’ll be back here and he’ll prove you wrong.

  ROSIE. Suit yourself, loser. Sit here all night and wait for him. I have big plans.

  RICARDO. (Intervening:) Let me get you something to drink, Judy.

  JUDY. Just water. With a slice of lemon. My throat is dry. Must be from the wind.

  RICARDO. It’s supposed to be a bad storm.

  ROSIE. (She messes up on a fingernail:) Shit!

  JUDY. (To Ricardo:) You believe me, don’t you, Ricardo? He’ll be back, won’t he?

  RICARDO. I hope so.

  JUDY. Rosie’s always talking nonsense.

  (Rosie flips Judy off, without a second thought.)

  RICARDO. She can’t stand to see anyone happy because she’s so miserable.

  ROSIE. (She snaps her fingers.) Um, hi! I’m still here. I can hear all your bullshit. I’m not deaf. It’s like a funeral around here. Everyone’s all sad and cry babying like the end of the fucking world is coming. Jesus, people, lighten up and quit your bitching. It wears on a person after a while.

  JUDY. (Gathers her courage, stands, and then:) You’re a hateful, mean person, Rosie, and I’ve never liked you.

  ROSIE. (She stands and slinks over to Judy.) Is that supposed to hurt? Judy, you’re an idiot and you’ve always been an idiot. Just because some lowlife dirty trucker paid you some attention, you sit here every night like a ghost waiting for some fantasy to come true. Well, guess what? He got what he wanted and he’s probably a thousand miles away from here by now. Which is exactly where I should be.

  RICARDO. (To Rosie:) You’re not going anywhere.

  JUDY. Except to hell. You will, Rosie, because you don’t have any compassion and you never go to church.

  ROSIE. I have to take care of my grandmother and she doesn’t like to go out much.

  RICARDO. She’s a prisoner.

  (Ricardo exits to the kitchen. Judy sits at a table, the closest one to the entrance.)

  JUDY. What time is it?

  ROSIE. Time for you to shut the fuck up and go home. (Beat.) I don’t know. It’s after six. What difference does it make?

  JUDY. He was going to Tulsa. He asked me if I wanted to go and I have no idea why I didn’t say yes. I’ve never been to Tulsa before. I should have packed up a few clothes and some cheese sandwiches and went with him. I’m sure Tulsa is a nice place. Anywhere would be beautiful with him. I could have looked at the road map and guided us there while he drove the big rig and we could have stopped off in places – places like this and had chili burgers and banana milkshakes and taken souvenir pictures with one of those disposable cameras. And at night, we would have made love. It would have felt right. To leave and just go and be with him and watch him drive and sleep beside him and see someplace new, even if it was only Tulsa. (Beat.) I bet the sunsets are gorgeous there. Real rich and beautiful. Like one of those desert paintings with the cactus in them. You know the kind that looks like someplace you swear you’ve been before, but you can’t quite remember? Not like Grand Island. Not like this town. I will remember this place for the rest of my life. Every inch of it is burned into my mind like a flaming postcard. Oh, I would have loved it. Just to be out on the road with him. Going somewhere. Getting away from it all. Feeling the sun on my arms and the wicked wind on my face as I crossed the Nebraska state line. Every inch of road getting me further and further and further away. (Pauses.) My God, I would have held his hand all the way to Tulsa.

  ROSIE. You’re a ridiculous woman going on and on about a man you met once and spent less than twenty-four hours with. He’s gone, Judy. He
was just passing through. You were just a road side attraction to him. A free carnival ride.

  RICARDO. (He returns with a glass of water for Judy.) Maybe we should close up, Rosie. The storm is supposed to be one of the worst of its kind in twelve years.

  ROSIE. You go on then, Mr. Weather Man. I’ll stay here and run the place.

  JUDY. I’ll stay with her.

  (Rosie shoots Judy a look.)

  RICARDO. I’m serious. I think we should go home.

  ROSIE. There ain’t nothing to go home to, except a complaining old woman and her tired bones that creak whenever she opens her big mouth and talks a bunch of nonsense about aliens. I’d rather stay here and wait.

  RICARDO. What are you waiting for?

  ROSIE. For the second coming of Christ, asshole. I told you, I have plans tonight. God, don’t you ever listen to me? (She starts to paint her nails again.)

  RICARDO. But if the weather gets bad, they could close the roads. We could get stuck here –

  ROSIE. What difference does it make? We’re already stuck.

  JUDY. I can’t leave. What if he comes back to get me and I’m not here?

  RICARDO. You could leave him a note.

  ROSIE: The fucker probably can’t even read. (Beat.) Was he a Mexican, Judy?

  JUDY. (Thinks about it, then:) No. It’s too risky. I’ll stay.

  RICARDO. Rosie, come help me tape up the windows out back.

  ROSIE. What do I look like, a janitor? You tape ‘em. I’m doing my nails.

  RICARDO. I’m not doing all this work by myself. (He exits.)

  ROSIE. Fine. (She follows him.)

  JUDY. (She stands up, goes to the radio and turns up the volume. She begins to sing along with the song and begins to dance slowly and softly, swaying with her imagined lover.) You’re a wonderful dancer. Very smooth and graceful. (She closes her eyes, lost in her fantasy.)