Cast:
Owner – An older man in a tuxedo. He owns the café.
Waiter – A younger man with a white shirt and tie.
Setting:
A table in a café.
Time:
The Present.
Setting:
Closing night in a small café. The café owner holds a few customer checks in one hand, and a calculator in the other. The waiter sips a glass of wine. The owner pushes the calculator away.
|
Owner: |
No need for that. |
Waiter: |
No? |
Owner: |
No. No need at all.
Watches waiter sip wine.
I could do with a glass. |
Waiter: |
Rises, self-consciously.
Allow me. |
Owner: |
Rises, waves away the other man.
Allow me.
Owner leaves for a bottle, returns in a moment.
I can use this.
He pours, drinks. Pours and drinks again.
That's better.
Picks up checks again, puts them down.
I don't need a calculator for this. I can add them in my head. |
Waiter: |
The waiter nods. |
Owner: |
I've known for months. I have. Could see it coming. Ending. Anyone could see. Anyone. But there was nothing I could do. To reverse it. The slide. That's how it was.
They both sip wine. |
Owner: |
One thing ends, something else begins. That's how it is. I've known. But I should have anticipated some things better. What will I do with twelve thousand after-dinner mints with our logo? Twelve thousand mints, and not one more customer. Give them to an orphanage? |
Waiter: |
That's a good idea. Maybe noble. |
Owner: |
Maybe I'll do that. Maybe I will.
Looks at checks again.
See these numbers? Not the totals. The check numbers. Take a look at them. Do you see them?
Holds them up for Waiter to see.
One hundred thousand and four. One hundred thousand and five. And six! And seven! And eight! That's how many checks we've run up here. That's how many parties I've welcomed at our door. |
Waiter: |
Amazing, nothing less. |
Owner: |
All these years, I've lived on my feet. Well, maybe I missed greeting a few parties. I had bladder problems for awhile. I'm not ashamed to tell you this. But even when I was in the bathroom, I made use of the time. I'm a businessman. I polished the mirrors. Changed soap in the dispensers. Swept pubic hair from the toilets. Oh, the flow of it all. I would clean, only for someone to come along, use the soap, soil the mirror, shake a few pubes. People are animals. Maybe worse. But I'm talking about the flow of it all. The cycle! |
Waiter: |
It's that. |
Owner: |
It's more than that. After my bladder problems stopped? That's when the knee business started. I told you, didn't I? |
Waiter: |
Waiter shakes his head no. |
Owner: |
No? Are you certain? It followed my bladder business. |
Waiter: |
I don't recall it, no. I don't. |
Owner: |
I suffered, let me tell you. All due to my standing so long, waiting to greet customers. As soon as one party left, another arrived. Never time to sit, to rest. The cycle of greeting and goodbyes. All those nights. All those years. You don't remember my knee pain? |
Waiter: |
I wasn't working here then. |
Owner: |
Ah, then I won't hold it against you. No hard feelings, I assure you. But that's another part of it, the changing of the wait staff. I would say goodnight to one waiter, and good morning to another. Always someone leaving, and someone joining the staff. That's how it is. Constant desertions, and reinforcements. It's a wonder there's any continuity at all. It's a wonder I haven't lost my mind. There's no loyalty these days. |
Waiter: |
I've worked for you for three years now. |
Owner: |
Have you? Hmmm. Three years is respectable. You've been faithful? |
Waiter: |
Oh yes. |
Owner: |
Good! Have more wine.
He pours for them both.
Very respectable.
Holds up bottle.
This too. Pommard. We'll finish this bottle, and I'll open another. On and on. I order a case, and later I order another. The winery deals with the harvest, and the demand for the wine. No let-up, ever. It's the concept at work. Never completed. On and on. |
Waiter: |
I hadn't thought of it that way. |
Owner: |
That's why you're the waiter. You need to think about these things. |
Waiter: |
But if I think about it, won't something happen to me? Won't I end up like you, closing down my café? |
Owner: |
Like me? Am I so bad? |
Waiter: |
I meant no disrespect. It was just a theory. |
Owner: |
Save your theory. You have a Ph.D in theory? Huh? I didn't think so. Listen, I've had high points along the way. |
Waiter: |
That's good to hear. You've only told me about the lows. |
Owner: |
Better a few highs than crawling through life on my knees. Let me tell you about one high. Did you know that I served the Bush family? The president and first lady? |
Waiter: |
I wouldn't crow. |
Owner: |
(Solemnly.) I served them myself. Personally. Oh, a waiter assisted, but I was in charge. I planned the courses. They loved it, and they loved me! |
Waiter: |
The president and first lady. Whew. |
Owner: |
I placed their photographs in my personal album. Along with so many notable photographs. But it's gone now. I no longer have the album. |
Waiter: |
Where did it go? |
Owner: |
With a former wife and her wrath. |
Waiter: |
I'm sorry about that. |
Owner: |
Thank you. It's one of my great losses in life. (Slight pause) How long did you say you've worked here? |
Waiter: |
Three years last month. |
Owner: |
It's a long service, and I salute you for it. But you missed my first wife entirely. Greta? |
Waiter: |
Waiter shakes his head. |
Owner: |
No matter. Five years of her, and the flow took things over. Actually, I was just ending my second marriage, to Mary Ann, when you joined the staff. And now I'm married to Paula. On and on, you know.
|
Waiter: |
Yes, I know Paula very well. |
Owner: |
So you do. Extraordinarily well, I'm told. She likes a bit of the rough stuff with a young guy like you. I don't mind. It's going downhill anyway. And don't think you're the first.
(Slight pause.) Still sleeping with Paula? |
Waiter: |
Waiter shakes his head no . |
Owner: |
I knew that. She's banging that Cuban chef this month. She has such a short attention span. It hardly matters, though. Once I'm gone, it will matter to no one. |
Waiter: |
What a depressing way to live. |
Owner: |
It was depressing, once I figured out how things were. One thing ending, and another taking its place. It affected me. I was a bastard here in the café. Do I seem like a bastard to you? Oh, don't answer. It's good you came here late. Good for your sake. |
Waiter: |
You aren't a bastard now. |
Owner: |
I let it all go. Doubts, fears, hates. I know this must sound trite. |
Waiter: |
Not at all. |
Owner: |
I was hoping you would say that. So, while we're here, we should make the most of it. Why don't you get us another bottle of wine? |
Waiter: |
What kind would you like? |
Owner: |
Whatever you like. In a little while, it will hardly matter. |
Waiter: |
We'll be drunk. |
Owner: |
Better than that. We'll be dead. |
Waiter: |
What? |
Owner: |
It's something I've planned. A bomb. Down in the cellar. Out with a bang. It's the flow again. Be done with this life and get started on the next. |
Waiter: |
You're serious. Aren't you? |
Owner: |
I am. It's for the best. You'll see. |
Waiter: |
And if I don't? |
Owner: |
The pistol in my pocket says you will. It's a rather convincing piece of machinery for its size, I assure you. |
Waiter: |
Don't threaten me. |
Owner: |
Come now. Let's call it an invitation. Let's be done with this ridiculous world. Next time around, things will go our way. |
Waiter: |
You do what you like, but I'll have no part of this. |
Owner: |
Owner reveals the pistol, points it at Waiter.
I'm not talking sticks and stones. |
Waiter: |
Relax, okay? I'm not going anywhere. |
Owner: |
I know. And neither am I. It's a blessing. really. To finally have a say. To be a dam on the river. To confront the flow. |
Waiter: |
You're crazy. A madman in a tux. |
Owner: |
You'll get no debate from me. I'm on your side. |
Waiter: |
But why me? I'm a good employee. I've served here faithfully for three years. |
Owner: |
You're a good man. Even if you were banging my wife for awhile. You're basically good. You can't be held responsible for raging hormones anymore than she can. And because of this, your basic goodness, I'm doing you a favor. |
Waiter: |
By blowing me up? |
Owner: |
Try to look deeper, below the surface. I am trying to save you from all the tribulation I've endured. Your life might be brief, I won't argue that point. But hasn't it had its moments? |
Waiter: |
Some, sure. |
Owner: |
Sounds glorious. End it now. You won't have to put up with this flow business. |
Waiter: |
Well ... |
Owner: |
I can see it in your eyes. You and me against the flow. The entire design! We're leaving this hellhole early. In the new world, things will be better. Maybe you'll own your own café. |
Waiter: |
I was thinking of something more substantial. |
Owner: |
Okay, a franchise. Not to mention the head start you'll have over all the poor fools who must live this life out in one miserable way or another. |
Waiter: |
You believe all this, don't you? |
Owner: |
We both do. Now, be a good boy and fetch us another bottle of wine. |
Waiter: |
Waiter gets another bottle. Owner keeps the gun trained on him.
Waiter puts the bottle on the table.
Will this do? |
Owner: |
Yes. But don't just stand there. Open it. Please |
Waiter: |
Waiter opens the bottle.
Would you care to sniff the cork? |
Owner: |
Yes. Just because things are ending, that's no reason to abandon decorum.
Waiter hands cork to Owner, who smells it. Waiter then pours a bit of wine into Owner's glass. Owner tastes the wine and nods.
That will do nicely. Pour, please. |
Waiter: |
Waiter begins pouring wine in both glasses.
I like this wine a lot. |
Owner: |
Not so much! My God, it must breathe! |
Waiter: |
I'm terribly sorry.
Waiter continues to pour, very carefully, as lights fade to black. |
Published December 2006
