KISS ME FIRST
A one-act play by James M. Tate
It is a room in the drama department of a college. Two students, Alex, a tough looking girl wearing blue jeans and a white t-shirt, and Mark, a passive looking guy wearing a collared shirt and Bermuda shorts, are in the room. They both have papers stapled together. There are large, painted wooden boxes for props (and seats) in the room, a mirror for a wall and other miscellaneous props lying around. Alex is seated on one box, Mark on another one.
ALEX: Do you want to start?
MARK: Not really.
ALEX: Do you want to do this at all?
MARK: No, I don’t, actually. I’m not too ready, I don’t think.
ALEX: Ready? This is just a rehearsal. It’s not even that.
MARK: I know.
ALEX: Did you study the lines?
MARK: I did, yeah.
ALEX: I didn’t.
MARK: You didn’t read it?
ALEX: Yeah, I read it. But I didn’t memorize anything.
MARK: I memorized half the lines but I couldn’t finish memorizing the whole thing. I had a busy weekend.
ALEX: You memorized half of it?
MARK: Yeah. I’m familiar with the other half - I mean I kind of know what happens. But I don’t know it all by heart.
ALEX: Did you know there’s a kissing scene?
MARK: Yeah. I read that; I couldn’t believe it. We don’t have to, I don’t think.
ALEX: I’m not doing it.
MARK: Yeah, I mean. I know. We don’t have to. Of course not. This is just a beginning acting class. I really don’t think it matters.
(pause)
ALEX: It’s hot as hell in this room.
MARK: Yeah, I know. Maybe I should open a door or something.
ALEX: I don’t think it’d do any good. It’s hot in the hallway, too.
MARK: Yeah, but it wouldn’t be as stuffy if I opened a door.
(MARK walks over, opens a door, turns and looks around room)
This room’s a trip.
ALEX: I wonder if I can smoke in here.
MARK: It reminds me of that old TV show, Fame. You remember that show?
ALEX: Yeah. Sort of. I was pretty young. (pause) Fuck it. I’m smokin’ in here. You want one?
MARK: Oh, no thanks. I only smoke when I’m drunk.
(she lights up cigarette)
ALEX: Well I smoke then too.
MARK: Yeah, I mean, for some reason I can’t smoke unless I’ve been drinking. I need a lot of drinks in me before I can smoke.
ALEX: Well I live to smoke cigarettes. I don’t know what I’d do without cigarettes.
MARK: It’s funny because I used to all the time.
ALEX: When I smoke it is only me. Nobody else exists but myself.
MARK: Back in high school I’d go through two packs a day.
(she looks over)
ALEX: Back in high school? How old are you?
MARK: I’m old.
ALEX: How old?
MARK: Thirty-one. Just turned it last month.
ALEX: You don’t look thirty-one.
MARK: Really? How old do I look?
ALEX: I don’t know. I guess twenty-four, twenty five.
MARK: I’m flattered. You don’t even know. I don’t want any more birthdays. (pause) How old are you again?
ALEX: Twenty-four.
(they both sit in silence)
MARK: So do you want to read through the lines? Get familiar with them?
ALEX: Yes, but after this cigarette. See I’m the type of person who can’t do two things at the same time.
MARK: I understand.
(they both sit in silence, MARK stares down at paper, ALEX smokes)
ALEX: So what was your ‘busy’ weekend anyway?
MARK: Oh, just a lot of writing and partying. I do that in my spare time.
ALEX: Which one? Write or party?
MARK: Both, I guess.
ALEX: What do you write?
MARK: Mostly poetry. Or stories... about partying… Do you like, uh, poetry?
ALEX: No, not really.
MARK: Yeah, most people don’t. But anyway, I spent the days writing and the nights drinking. Two nights in a row, Friday night and Saturday night, I went out. And then I couldn’t sleep Sunday night. It’s strange, and I don’t know why this happens, but after I drink - the night after the day-after - I can’t sleep. I don’t know why but I just lay there in bed all night till like around 5 in the morning. Then, if I’m lucky, I’ll crash out and get a few hours sleep till it’s time to get up for work. I think it might be allergies or something that keeps me awake, but I don’t know for sure.
ALEX: What are you allergic to that does that to you? Alcohol?
MARK: No. I mean I hope not. But I am allergic to a whole lot of things. Allergies are worse than death for anybody who’s alive and has them like I do. Some nights I can’t even go outside, because the next day my eyes get all irritated, so bad sometimes that I can hardly open them.
ALEX: Wow, dude, your life must suck. If something like that kept me from going out, I’d just kill myself.
(ALEX finishes the cigarette and puts it out on the box where she’s sitting)
MARK: Yeah. But I don’t know. I live through it. I think that, compared to a lot of people’s problems, my allergies are nothing.
(Alex looks at play)
ALEX: Okay, let’s get this over with.
MARK: All right.
ALEX: We should just read it through dry, right?
MARK: Yeah. I think so. We can get used to the words that way.
ALEX (reading): Why did you come here?
MARK: I don’t know. I felt like it. I can’t help it. I can’t think about anything else but your eyes.
ALEX: Oh, please. You lie. You lie so much. You don’t love my eyes - you love my pussy.
(Alex comes out of it)
This play is so idiotic, I swear to God.
MARK: I know. But at least it’s current. Imagine doing Ibsen or Tennessee Williams or something. At least this play is normal.
ALEX: Normal? I don’t think ‘normal’ is the word I’d use to describe this shit.
MARK: I know. I just meant it’s of this era. Somewhat modern.
ALEX: Let’s go on with it.
MARK: All right.
(they both sit, waiting for each other)
ALEX: Your line.
MARK: Oh. Sorry. (clears his throat) I do like your eyes. I dream about your eyes.
ALEX: You’re full of it.
MARK: I know I am. But I still like your eyes.
ALEX: You just agreed when I said you were full of it. So you don’t dream of my eyes then. See I knew it. You’re still a liar.
MARK: Here we go again.
ALEX: Where were you last night?
MARK: At a friend’s house.
ALEX: A friend?
(Alex comes out of it)
Damn, this bitch it too much! A man must’ve wrote this because no bitch is this dumb. Who wrote this?
(MARK looks through his backpack, pulls out a book)
MARK: Says here: Lee Darsey.
ALEX: I knew it.
MARK: But who knows. There’s no picture. Lee can be a girl’s name too. Like your name: Alex.
ALEX: I guess.
(she goes back to reading)
What friend were you out with? And don’t say Jack. You always say you were with Jack. You’ve run out of Jack. Jack is bullshit. Jack is another lie.
MARK: You’re nuts.
ALEX: Where were you?
MARK: I told you, I was out with a friend.
ALEX: Which friend?
MARK: Does it matter?
ALEX: Yes it matters. Which friend?
MARK: A guy named Patrick.
ALEX: Patrick. I don’t know any Patrick.
(she comes out of it)
Fuck. This is ridiculous. How long have these two characters known each other?
MARK: I’m not sure exactly. I did read the previous scene though and it seems like they’ve been dating for a while.
ALEX: I can’t believe I’m gonna have to read this shit in front of the class.
MARK: Read this? You mean act this.
ALEX: Yes, which is worse. Since I don’t even know how to act. I’m gonna have to be this dumb ‘Judy’ bitch, and I don’t think I quite have that in me.
MARK: Well I don’t think he expects much. We’re all pretty new at this.
ALEX: Who?
MARK: What?
ALEX: You said he won’t expect much. Who won’t expect much?
MARK: Dennis.
ALEX: Dennis. That’s a funny name. For some reason I hate that fucking name.
MARK: College cracks me up. Imagine in high school calling your teacher Dennis.
(she goes back to reading)
ALEX: Patrick. Patrick is a figment of your imagination.
MARK: No he’s not. He’s very real and you’re very paranoid. You don’t believe anything I say. I mean, I only lied to you that one time and you act like I’m full of lies.
ALEX: Yes. You’re right. It was just one lie. But what a lie it was.
MARK: Let’s not bring that up.
ALEX: You brought it up.
MARK: I want to kiss you.
ALEX: You want to fuck me.
MARK: Yes, I want to fuck you. But I want to kiss you first.
(he comes out of it)
Man, this dude has balls.
ALEX: C’mon, let’s just keep reading. I don’t wanna spend all day at this.
(goes back to read)
If you want to fuck me so bad, then fuck me.
MARK: I said that I wanted to kiss you. That’s what I said. And I think you look beautiful tonight. More tonight than any other night. More tonight than ever. I think you’re beautiful and I adore you, and whenever I close my eyes I can see your beautiful eyes – and they’re wide open - and no dream can compare to those.
ALEX: That was good. I’ve got to admit, that was a very nice thing to hear.
(she comes out of it, rubs her eyes)
This is so incredibly unbelievable.
MARK: It’s different.
ALEX: I can’t believe I have to do this. In front of the class, no less.
MARK: Yeah. I’m pretty nervous about it myself.
ALEX: Nervous? Who said anything about being nervous? I just don’t want to make an ass of myself. And not only that but the memorization. I’ve got paragraphs that I have to memorize.
MARK: Actually, I got the most paragraphs.
(She goes back to the play, to find her place)
MARK: Say it again.
ALEX: What?
MARK: ‘Say it again’ is your line after ‘nice thing to hear.’
ALEX: I know.
MARK: Okay. Sorry.
ALEX: Say it again.
MARK: I can’t say it again. If I say it again, then it would be after the fact, and therefore, it would be a lie.
ALEX: Shit.
MARK: This guy’s pretty smooth, huh?
(she goes right back to reading)
ALEX: I don’t like to feel this way. This is the way I always feel after I talk to you. You trick me. You always trick me.
MARK: It’s not a trick.
ALEX: Yes it is.
MARK: It’s not a trick because it’s not on purpose.
ALEX: You’re the worst thing that has ever happened to me, and somehow, I love it.
(Alex shakes her head, looks around, sighs, takes out another cigarette, lights it up)
MARK: You want to take a break?
ALEX: No. I want to smoke.
(silence as she smokes, he looks at her)
MARK: Alex?
ALEX: Mark.
MARK: Can I ask you something?
ALEX: What?
MARK: Is this scene bringing back something? You seem, I don’t know...
ALEX: I seem what? And what do you mean, ‘bringing back something’?
MARK: I don’t know. It’s just that... oh forget it.
ALEX: What?
MARK: It’s gonna sound dumb.
ALEX: Just say it. You started it, now say it - I hate when people
pull that shit.
MARK: Well it’s when you read your lines. It just seems real. Not like you’re like her or anything, but like you know something.
ALEX: What do you mean?
MARK: It’s like you know something about love that no one else does.
ALEX: Well. I guess I do. I know it’s a waste of time.
MARK: See. Right there. That’s what I mean. There’s something behind the words in this play, as you read them, that you just seem to know.
ALEX: Look, dude. All I know is that it’s bullshit.
MARK: Well that’s something right there.
ALEX: What?
MARK: What you just said.
ALEX: What did I say?
MARK: That love is bullshit.
ALEX: No, I didn’t say that. I said this play is bullshit. Love is a waste of time.
MARK: Well, whatever you said, I believe it.
ALEX: Huh?
MARK: I think I’d believe anything from you.
ALEX: What are you talking about?
(looks to the ground)
MARK: I told you it’d sound dumb.
(there is silence as they both sit there)
ALEX: It doesn’t sound too dumb.
MARK: Really?
ALEX: Yeah. Really.
MARK: Well it’s true.
ALEX: Oh yeah?
MARK: I don’t lie.
(they both sit in silence, she is still smoking, her eyes on the play)
ALEX: Go ahead.
MARK: What?
ALEX: Read your line.
MARK: Oh. (reads) I know you love it. That’s why I’m so unpredictable. Because you alone know exactly what I know about love. That no one wants what they deserve. That no one really deserves anything. And that life is a cruel joke. And I love you.
(Alex puts out her cigarette in the same place on the box)
ALEX: I love you too. I always have.
MARK: So then please - I’m a beggar at your door, seeing you every time for the first time. Please kiss me.
ALEX: Fuck me.
(Mark looks hard at page, as if he is looking for the line, ‘Fuck me’ but can’t. He turns to Alex)
MARK: What did you say?
ALEX: You heard me.
(he nervously fidgets around, clears his throat)
ALEX: I said, Fuck me.
(now he looks over at her)
MARK: Well, it says in the script, right here, that were supposed to just kiss now.
ALEX: Alright… Then kiss me first.
MARK: You’re serious.
ALEX: I’m not an actress.
(Mark puts down his script, he walks over, stands in front of her, rather awkwardly, nervously
Then she reaches out, grabs the collar of his shirt, pulls him to her, and they kiss)
CURTAINS
