ACT ONE
CHARACTERS
CHRISSY
HAROLD
SUSAN
VIKKI
MELISSA
SALLY
ERIC
AL
RALPHIE
GUY
HELEN
MAN
TIME: A little while ago.
PLACE: Philadelphia. The go-go bars, streets, apartments and neighborhoods of Chrissyâs life.
The set should be a space with areas and levels similar to a Shakespearean stage, but all within a metaphor of bars and go-go dancing. The bar itself should be most evident at the highest levels; the areas farthest upstage, though deepest in the set, will receive their prominence from their elevation. The farthest point downstage should be the lowest, though there might be dancing pedestals on either side. But basically the downstage area should be least specific of the bar so it can easily become âthe street,â âthe park,â âthe garden or backyard of Chrissyâs parentsâ home.â Mid-level and midstage should be the area of Chrissyâs apartment. Perhaps doors on either side might serve as ârestroomsâ in the bar, yet be at other times the door to Chrissyâs apartment on the one hand, and her bathroom door on the other. Though the backdrop for the entire stage should have some element of the go-go bar in it, the set must be capable of allowing the bar element to be reduced at times, and occasionally even eliminated. Mainly the specific âsettingâ of each scene should be determined by the characters present, their costumes, dialogue, and the very, very carefully selected hand props that they use (which could perhaps be stylized in some way). Once a setting is established, it should be possible for the actor to prowl a larger area of the stage without any sense of confusion about where the action is taking place. There should be a large number of avenues of exit and entrance around the stage and through the backdrop so that characters, when necessary, can appear or disappear from any direction with ease. A bed rolling on from under the upper area might be useful in creating the specifics of Chrissyâs apartment: a bed covered in satin, a tawdry color, an emblem and aspect of life in the go-go bar. Or an apron, a mini-thrust stage, might be located midway between the upper level and mid-level, so that it could serve as a place of prominence for dancing, yet be easily used as the bed in Chrissyâs apartment. A rug on the floor of her apartment area might be useful, and some drawers built into the front walls of the upper-level elevation might serve as dressers in her apartment scenes. However, there is a danger in too many specifics regarding any one setting in the play. The most essential job of the set is to provide a metaphoric realm in which the specific areas can be made present with great facility, for the transitions from scene to scene must be clear, effortless, and instantaneous if the play is to be most effective. All colors in the set must take their legitimacy from the metaphor of the bar. The lighting must work to provide definition of one area from the other, and time, place and mood, yet always with some relation to the metaphor of the bar.
OVERTURE
In the darkness, âAngel Babyâ by âRosie and the Originalsâ begins to play. Slowly the soft, dreamy lights rise to show us Chrissy, a young, sexy but not glamorous girl in a rather childlike, or high-school-like, dress swaying to the music. Behind her stands a man, older, in a dark suit and a tie, a flower in his lapel. His arms are around her waist; she holds his hands. Together they sway to the music. Suddenly she starts as if she doesnât know heâs there.
Chrissy: Oh, Christ! Whoâs there?
Harold: Me.
Chrissy: Oh.
(She relaxes, smiles, settles back into his arms, as the instrumental section of the music continues. This section can be looped, or perhaps an instrumental version of the song should be made with a saxophone lead instead of the vocal. In any case, the scene now proceeds with instruments only under their dialogue so that, in a sense, it is their dialogue that is the lyric to the music. They sway, embrace; dreaming, playful, facing out.)
Harold: Yeh. Now that youâre here, got a place of your own, I bet you think youâre gonna get it all done. I bet you think youâre gonna do it all. Sing Rock-and-Roll whenever you want. Play it loud as you want whenever you want. Ruin your ears. Inna middle a the night. Gonna cook roast beef, ham, carrots and peas on a side. Make a salad inna middle a the night if you want. Gonna get boys here. I know. Gonna make love to boys. Sure you are. Blond boys, dark-haired ones, Spanish spics â hot bloods â black boys. Gonna get redheads, ainât you? Feed âem beef and booze, get âem in showers â do it on chairs, stools, floors â inna tub. Sure you are. (Pause.) See, Iâm tired a hiding things. Iâm done with concealment. Itâs a wonderful world anâ a wonderful life. I ainât got no health, though I got a little. Whata I care? Let a smile be my umbrella.
Chrissy: You come here for a reason, or what? (She whirls away, spinning in a dance; still they hold hands.)
Harold: Sure.
Chrissy: Can I get you a sandwich? Iâm gonna have one.
Harold: Lemme tell you somethinâ, though; thereâs not so much goinâ on as you think. Not nearly all that goinâ on that you think.
Chrissy: You . . . use a key to get in here, Pop?
Harold: Iâm still around, see.
Chrissy: Iâm happy to see you. Honest. I miss you.
Harold: Donât you forget it.
(Whenever they move it is rhythmic, to the music. He performs for her, dancing alone. He takes her up; they dance cheek to cheek.)
Chrissy: But maybe things are a little different now is all, see.
Harold: Iâm still here. What kinda sandwich?
Chrissy: Iâll just keep after some things I can maybe get is sort of all Iâm saying. You know.
Harold: Iâm a permanent fixture. Nothinâll ever take me out. Even when Iâm rot anâ the rot is dirt, Iâll be there thinkinâ, watchinâ everything and talkinâ to myself all about it. Sometimes I can even hear the way Iâll sound to myself. Real kinda funny. Echo-eeeeee . . .
Chrissy: Ham and cheese okay for you, Pop? Itâs what Iâm gonna have. On rye with a speck a mayonnaise.
Harold: Tomato, too. Thinly sliced. Very thinly sliced. A little pepper.
Chrissy: Iâve just had some very good things happen to me. Iâve had some very good things happen to me. Wow.
Harold: Happens to all of us. We all do. Comes and goes.
Chrissy: I mean, very good things. Very, very good things. Wow!
Harold: I been inna hospital.
Chrissy: I heard.
Harold: Sick.
Chrissy: Thatâs what I heard.
Harold: Trouble in my prick.
Chrissy: Oh, yeh.
Harold: Yeh. Terrible.
Chrissy: I was sorry to hear.
Harold: âPenisâ they call it. Nurse says, âLemme see your penis.â Itâs embarrassinâ, woman like that, good-lookinâ woman feelinâ around my penis. She ainât enjoyinâ it. Nothinâ happeninâ. Nothinâ. Good-lookinâ woman.
Chrissy: Whatsamatter?
Harold: Iâm sad, Chrissy. Iâm feelinâ very sad.
Chrissy: No, no.
Harold: It makes you think. You think and think.
Chrissy: No, no. I mean, whatâs your sickness?
Harold: Infection.
Chrissy: Oh.
Harold: Onna shell. I never belonged to you, Chrissy. I would throw you up in the air sometimes, you was so tiny, and I would catch you. Up I would throw you, but I never belonged to you, though. You were a joy. I liked you a lot. No bigger than a puppy. âHello, Hon,â I would say, âyouâre fulla balooney.â Thatâs what I would always used to say. How long ago was that? You should come visit. Your momma misses you.
Chrissy (suddenly very angry): Bullshit. BULLSHIT!
Harold: What am I sayinâ? I ainât sayinâ nothinâ.
Chrissy: How did you get in here? Did you pick the lock?
Harold: It was little Chrissyâs father they was lookinâ at, I tole them, they hadda let me in.
Chrissy: You picked the lock!
Harold: No.
Chrissy (scolding him): Did you break it? You didnât break it!
Harold: Wanna go to a ball game? Go see a night ball game?
Chrissy: NO!
Harold: Phillies.
Chrissy: Whatâd you do to it?
Harold: Phillies and Cubs!
Chrissy: I donât wanna!
(Somewhat separated now, they still move to the music as Harold tries to distract them, to brag and apologize.)
Harold: Me neither! Not really. Itâs just a lot of worry. Itâs just a lot of bother. You donât know whatâs goinâ on. So the pitcherâs lookinâ at the catcher and heâs hiding the signals. Whatâs it gonna be? The batterâs guessing. But whatâs he guessing?
Then the ballâs in the air. Maybe a curve. Will it do what the pitcher wants? Will the bat do what the batter wants? I mean, inanimate objects. Inanimate objects. Who controls these things? Cars run into poles, off roads. Whatâs going to happen? Whatâs going to happen? Iâm feelinâ . . . so . . . excited . . . Iâm feelinâ . . . so excited. (Pause: something is happening to him.) You remember the way I beat you sometimes with my belt? (Pause.) Chrissy? You was little?
Chrissy: Huh?
Harold: You was little. One time you was crawlinâ in the corner, crawlinâ to get away. I run after you. Donât you remember I run after you?
Chrissy: That was Uncles Billy and Michael, I thought. Uncles Billy and Michael, Pop. Before they went away.
Harold: Oh, donât you remember, though, the jolly excitinâ way I would sometimes chase you and beat you with a belt? (It seems he might actually hit her now, so desperate is he to have her remember this âintimacy,â these âgood times.â)
Chrissy: Yeh. Sure.
(Perhaps he has actually pulled his belt off and pantomimed chasing a child, or perhaps he has pantomimed the belt, pantomimed...