A one-act play by Rob Adams, Part 1.
THE CHARACTERS
The Plants
The Waiter
The Performer
The Gigolo
The Chef
PRODUCTION NOTES: All three speaking characters can be played by one or three different people. The Plants should be real plants.
SCENE ONE
MUSIC- SONG OF THE BABY WHALE –The exterior of a small but elegant bistro. The sky is streaked with the final reds and purples of a winter sunset, and in the air a faint and lyrical piano can be heard, reminiscent of times gone by. Down stage centre there is a perceived front entrance to the restaurant defined by two medium sized plants in pots on either side of the imaginary door, through which the entirety of the of the bistro’s interior is revealed. Inside there is a small table with two chairs, a small stage, and to stage right the kitchen. In the kitchen, sitting in a chair, is the chef (a dummy/ mannequin)
(THE WAITER enters, busying himself with the final details before opening. When things are set, the waiter checks his pocket watch, opens the doors down centre, and immediately he greets the plants like they are old friends)
WAITER: (To THE PLANTS, as he sees them to their table and seats the two plants in the two chairs.) Ahh, Madame et Monsieur, how lovely it is to see you both again,
and may I say Madame you are looking remarkably ravishing this evening. Are those some new leaves?
With all due respect to you Monsieur, of course. Your are very lucky to be dining with such a lovely… but of course we make our own luck sometimes eh?
And how is business for you these days my old friend? (THE WAITER pauses for a response.) Oh, here it has been very slow. The end of the world is apparently going to be very bad for fine dining. But what can we do?
We carry on as best we can. What do I know of such grand economics, and geo-political gestalt, eh?
I am merely a small restaurant man, a humble small man, who would gladly spend his last two rubbing coins to buy only the most choice ingredients for the joy of his customers soufflé.
What can a poor old garcon like me do, but pay homage to our most beatific and benevolent patrons, eh? (THE WAITER gestures for a tip, but none is forthcoming.) Anyway, I’ll let our most esteemed chef know of your arrival, and we’ll see what something special he has for you our most faithful of customers.
(THE WAITER exits to the kitchen, where we can see him talking to THE CHEF.) Those Puton plants are back. (To the audience) Plants make the worst tippers. (Back to THE CHEF) Eh? What do they want eat? I don’t know. They’ll probably sit on one bottle of water between them. The cheap bastards. They show up early, leave late, sit on one bottle of water all night.
Just watch the plant bitch will tell me no ice’, like I am some sort of stupid monkey, who was once tarded, then de-tarded, and then re-tarded once again! But maybe they’re ok. Who am I to talk such merde of the plants when they are not even here to defend themselves?
Maybe they want some compost, or even some manure. Though they look well feed, unlike you and me. Eh my old friend? Ok, ok. That plant bitch with here shiny new leaves. Fronding them around under my very Nose.
(THE WAITER, listens to the CHEF) I’ll tell them, but I wouldn’t expect much. Plants have the worst taste. (THE WAITER picks up a wine list and menu, and returns to the dining room and the THE PLANTS.)
Care to take a look at the wine list tonight Monsieur? No. And on this evening’s Board de Fair, we have a remarkable brook trout almandine, line caught out of the crystal pure waters of the mountain streams found on our chef’s own estate…
oh, yes of course sir, a simple water, An excellent and Spartan choice for these trying times. And for you Madame? A water as well? Perhaps I could tempt you with some blood and bone, or per chance a sample of our finest Merde de Pollo? No just the water. Of course. And no ice. Of course.
(THE WAITER smiles broadly, and exits to the kitchen, his smile dropping as he sees THE CHEF.)
They want puton blah blah water, water only, How are we supposed to earn a crust when our best customers order nothing? (Mimicking) Open a restaurant that caters to plants, you said. We could finally be happy, you said. Oh I’ll get the water, don’t get up. (To the audience) I have to do everything around here. (THE WAITER returns to the dinning room.) Here we have a beautiful Water du Tap, no ice, for your pleasure only. Please enjoy.
And the entertainment will be starting toot suit. I’ll check back to see if you’re interested in coffee, dessert, or perhaps even a cheeky cognac, eh? Eh?eh? (THE WAITER exits in disgust.)
(The lights dim, and there is a brief interlude)
