Dirt

Talk to Me

Play | 21 min read

Talk to Me follows two men, Brian and Mark, walking the city talking about women—what they want, what they can't have, what they suspect—while Mark's marriage quietly unravels in real time through everything he says. The dialogue is fast and funny and casually ugly in the way male friendship can be, right up until a single confession reframes the entire conversation. Contains misogyny, racial fetishization, and infidelity. "She doesn't talk to me, either"

Characters

Two men roam the city.

BRIAN. Like that?

MARK. Where?

BRIAN. There. That. You didn’t see that?

Mark shrugs.

BRIAN. That was beautiful. Chinese. That’s all I want, is a Chinese girl like that, twenty-six, not too skinny, to come home with me every night and shag the fuck out of me. But what’s she gonna want? Black dick. Cholo dick. She’ll want to fuck around on me. Girls can’t be faithful. They’re all whores.

MARK. So are we.

BRIAN. Pfff..

MARK. Come on..

BRIAN. What?

MARK. You wouldn’t fuck around on her?

BRIAN. Nope.

MARK. You say that now. You say that now cause you haven’t gotten laid in..?

BRIAN. Six months?

MARK. Not that long.

Brian shrugs.

MARK. Jesus.

BRIAN. I wouldn’t cheat on her.

MARK. Not right at first. But you would.

BRIAN. My perfect little mail order bride?

MARK. It wears off.

BRIAN. Not this.

MARK. It wears off. Sex is like being hungry. Even Ghandi, after like two double whoppers with cheese, is full.

BRIAN. I wouldn’t cheat on her.

MARK. Sleep is the same way.

BRIAN. Okay, you’re right. You are right. I wouldn’t cheat on her though. I’d break up with her first.

Mark looks doubtful.

BRIAN. I would.

Mark looks doubtful.

BRIAN. What? I would. She’d probably be cheating on me with you. They do that. They do that. They’ll fuck your best friend just because he seems sad. They’re great if you just got broken up with. Some other bitch just pounced on your heart to spread her legs for a bun-length cholofrank, and here comes another one. Like they do when they find a lost puppy like ’awww..look..he’s so cute..he must have been abandoned by his family’ Yes! By you, bitch! At home, they abuse helpless puppies. On the street, they stop to nurture anything that’s wagging its tail.

MARK. Then wag your tail.

BRIAN. No. I want it to be real. I want her to love just me.

MARK. Is that the way you’d love that little mail order bride back there?

BRIAN. Is that the way you’d love her?

MARK. I didn’t see her.

BRIAN. Want me to describe?

MARK. I can imagine.

BRIAN. Yeah?

MARK. Knowing you? Yeah. Memoirs of a Geisha..meets..Sweet Valley Tampax.

BRIAN. Knowing you? It’d be more like Memoirs of a Geisha meets the Blair Witch Project.

MARK. What does that mean?

BRIAN. It means you’re an axe murderer.

MARK. That would be Memoirs of a Geisha meets Deliverance.

BRIAN. Whatever.

MARK. Anyway, with you it would be more like Memoirs of a Geisha meets Mary Kate and Ashley Olson.

BRIAN. The Old Mary Kate and Ashley Olson.

MARK. You mean the young Mary Kate and Ashley Olson.

BRIAN. Right. Pre-pubes.

MARK. That’s disgusting.

BRIAN. I just want my little Chinese hottie.

MARK. You still have that pocket pussy I got you?

BRIAN. She looked like she went to NYU.

MARK. She doesn’t go to NYU.

BRIAN. She looks like she goes to NYU. You know that look. It’s something to do with the baseball cap.

MARK. Go jerk off. I’m serious. I’ll wait. You still have that pocket pussy I gave you?

Brian shrugs.

MARK. I don’t believe I’m doing this. I don’t believe I’m doing this. When they sign you up to be a best friend, they don’t tell you about this part. This is on page seventeen after all the insurance disclaimers and all the indemnification clauses—actually, no, I’m pretty sure this isn’t even in the contract. No, definitely. Definitely no, this isn’t in the contract.

Brian is paying no attention—he’s staring into space, considering something.

MARK. There.

Mark holds out something—his own pocket pussy. His friend pays no mind. Brian comes back from his reverie. Mark quickly conceals the toy.

BRIAN. It’s the angle of the cap. It’s something about the angle at which the cap intersects the forehead. Look at this guy, look at this guy. Guy orders a chicken sandwich thinks he’s hannibal lecter—‘uh, yes, that all looks fine’—it’s a plate of fries! Just cause you’re wearing linen pants and silver-rimmed glasses doesn’t mean shit, buddy! Go to Wendy’s next time, get yer chicken sandwich. Four ninety-nine. Did you see that? ‘Uh, yes, that all looks fine’. Those fries cooked right for ya? Yeah? I’ll deep-fry your face. Girls go for guys like that, though. Girls go for guys like that. You know what I saw on the subway yesterday?

MARK. What?

BRIAN. Chinese guy. Chinese girl, Chinese guy, cuddled up, like, teenager, rollercoaster, amusement park—

MARK. Junior high field trip—

BRIAN. Exactly. She just got fingered for the first time. He just fingered a girl for the first time.

MARK. I remember that.

BRIAN. I’m talking their first kiss wasn’t that long ago.

MARK. Right.

BRIAN. Either of em.

MARK. Right.

BRIAN. In junior high though.

MARK. Okay.

BRIAN. But this wasn’t like that.

MARK. What was this like?

BRIAN. This was like..he was like thirty, she was like fourteen—

MARK. Damn—

BRIAN. Maybe sixteen—

MARK. Hhholy cow—

BRIAN. This guy was like..thirty..thirty-three.

MARK. Oh.

BRIAN. Nasty.

MARK. Oh!

BRIAN. Teeth problems.

MARK. Oh no.

BRIAN. Ugly face. lines. almost scars. like he was in a war.

MARK. Uh.

BRIAN. And she’s: all into it. I mean she’s cooing, lying back, her eyes are closed, you just know —

MARK. No.

BRIAN. You just know..

MARK. No.

BRIAN. I mean you just know

MARK. Oh no..

BRIAN. That this guy..took this girl’s virginity..and she is in love with this guy like he’s gonna be there for her the rest of her life, when in reality, you can tell, you can see, that this guy just played this little girl out of her virginity—

MARK. She enjoyed it.

BRIAN. For now.

MARK. No, I know..

BRIAN. But three months from now..

MARK. Oh, I know.

BRIAN. She’s gonna be—

MARK. She’s gonna be up his ass.

BRIAN. She’s gonna be up the ass of every man who ever breathed for what he did or didn’t do to her.

MARK. But for now..

BRIAN. No, for now she’s..

MARK. For now she’s fine.

BRIAN. For now she’s still a sweet little girl. For now she’s still innocent. For now she’s still figuring things out and the world is still a big and exciting place where if you suggest to her that that man’s passion for her runs shallower than the deepest, hottest ocean..she will bite your finger off.

MARK. But in three months.

BRIAN. In three months..

MARK. Ha.

BRIAN. In three months the two of you will sit down to coffee and a nice fat syringe of heroin and swap war stories from your youth.

MARK. So she was hot then?

BRIAN. As measured in Kelvin.

MARK. And she was Asian.

BRIAN. Chinese.

MARK. What’s up with that?

BRIAN. It’s something about the angle of the cap, I think.

MARK. Seriously.

BRIAN. Why do you like em? Why do you like the brown-haired ones more than the light-head—?

MARK. They’ve got a word for that, it’s called ‘brunette’.

BRIAN. Doesn’t sound right.

MARK. But that’s the word though.

BRIAN. I know. Why do you like them?

MARK. They remind me of my sister.

BRIAN. That’s disgusting.

MARK. It is not and you know it.

BRIAN. Is that really why you like them?

MARK. Maybe.

BRIAN. What a waste.

MARK. What?

BRIAN. That stupid Chinese bitch.

MARK. The one who gave her virginity to the guy with scars on his face?

BRIAN. Yes.

MARK. Instead of you?

BRIAN. Yes.

MARK. Was he Chinese?

BRIAN. Of course he’s Chinese. I already said he’s Chinese.

MARK. No you—

BRIAN. Whatever. He’s chinese. With scars on his face like he went to war.

MARK. Hold up hold up hold up I think this chick is checking me out.

BRIAN. She’s not checking you out—

MARK. Yes she is. She’s looking at my shirt.

BRIAN. That’s all chicks care about is what kind of job you have..you want to know why guys drive ridiculous cars..it’s because chicks go for that type of retarded shit. Guys don’t want to make five hundred thousand dollars a year. We just want to get laid. But to get laid, these days, you’ve got to make five hundred thousand dollars a year. Chicks want you to buy them platinum, they want a house on venice beach, they want two hundred pairs of shoes.

MARK. You using the word ’chicks’ is very antiquated.

BRIAN. It’s a matter of convenience.

MARK. I think it’s disrespectful.

BRIAN. I know it is. And you still don’t get laid any more than I do.

MARK. You know what you have to do if you want to get laid, right?

Brian shrugs.

MARK. Slap a ho.

Brian looks surprised.

MARK. That’s right. Slap a ho.

BRIAN. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I think Vin Diesel just stepped into the room. I think—I think—

MARK. Because that’s what—

BRIAN. Andrew Dice Clay just released thoracyclazine glutamate into the airstream and my best friend is—I think you just received an instantaneous complimentary brain transplant from an alien culture.

MARK. No, because..

BRIAN. No, yeah..

MARK. Right?

BRIAN. Right, yeah, no, I know, that’s—

MARK. Right, that’s—

BRIAN. It’s the only—

MARK. Because they—

BRIAN. That’s all they respond to.

MARK. No, I know, it’s—

BRIAN. That’s all they understand.

MARK. They just..

BRIAN. They..

MARK. They don’t..

BRIAN. Never..

MARK. Almost never..

BRIAN. Almost never do they..

MARK. Very rarely do they almost ever..

BRIAN. Rarely ever..

MARK. Very rarely..

BRIAN. Slap a ho?

Mark shrugs.

BRIAN. Slap a ho, then.

MARK. She was Asian.

BRIAN. Chinese.

MARK. Chinese?

BRIAN. Mandarin.

MARK. Mandarin?

BRIAN. Mandarin as the day you were born. Mandarin as a baby’s behind.

MARK. Um..

BRIAN. This girl was as Mandarin as Michelle Yeoh. And a young Michelle Yeoh, virgin Michelle Yeoh. Michelle Yeoh, like..six years old—

MARK. Whoah, whoah—

BRIAN. Laid out in green bamboo leaves with a little panda bear

MARK. That’s all I need! six?

BRIAN. icon in the bottom right corner that stands for freshness..

MARK. Alright..

BRIAN. and..

MARK. That’s fine..

BRIAN. and..

MARK. Reign em in..bring back the horses.

BRIAN. and..Johnson’s Baby Powder, baby wax, an unused pad of paper, clean napkins—like..a beach..with sand..but still the icon of the panda bear—

MARK. Whoah! Whoah. Stop.

Brian comes back to planet earth.

MARK. You had me at hello.

BRIAN. How’s Sarah?

MARK. Awww, man, that girl gives me so much trouble.

Mark sees someone going by quickly on the sidewalk.

MARK. I didn’t know Jewish people were allowed to roller skate.

Brian looks confused.

MARK. Doesn’t it go against the, uh..the..

BRIAN. No.

The Jewish man skates over to their table. A woman skates over with him; she’s on her phone.

MAN. Weren’t you on E! Entertainment Television?

MARK. Yeah, I was.

BRIAN. You were?

MAN. I thought that was you. He was saying some shit like ‘the kind of girl you want is one who seems nice on the outside, so you can take her home to mother, but really she’s a whore’.

BRIAN. You said that?

MARK. I didn’t say whore.

MAN. Whatever, man. That was cool. How’d you get on that show anyway?

MARK. I didn’t even want to be on that show. I was just walking down Hollywood Boulevard—

The Jewish man splits his attention between mark and his girlfriend.

MAN. Right—hold on, baby—

MARK. This crew comes up, says ‘we’re interviewing people about relationships’—

MAN. Dude we gotta go—her sister is pregnant.

MARK. Okay.

MAN. You were awesome.

MARK. Thanks. Have a fantastic day. Fuckhead. You like how I just did that?

BRIAN. What?

MARK. ‘I was walking down Hollywood Boulevard’.

BRIAN. Right..?

MARK. I just name-dropped..a street. Forget it.

BRIAN. No, that’s cool—

MARK. Forget it—

BRIAN. I think it’s cool—

MARK. No you don’t.

Brian shrugs.

MARK. Anyway it’s not. So if you think it is, you’re wrong.

BRIAN. What’s going on?

MARK. I’m getting married.

BRIAN. You are..? You are getting married.

MARK. Actually, we already got married. Yesterday we did this.

BRIAN. Well, I’m happy for you. Are you..happy?

MARK. I’ve been through so much with that girl, I mean I’m happy, but it’s not like seventh grade crush happy, can’t contain myself happy.

BRIAN. When were you gonna tell me?

MARK. I hope you’re not offended, I just wanted to give it some time..to settle..I wanted to tell you, I just wanted to make sure it was gonna stick..this time..brian I told anyone.

BRIAN. Hey, that’s okay. I don’t think I ever kept a secret like that from anyone.

MARK. I didn’t mean to keep a secret from you..

BRIAN. It’s alright..

MARK. It was just a secret from everyone. It’s no offense.

BRIAN. No, it impresses me. I just have to tell people stuff. Especially my best friend. It’s impressive, that you can keep something secret like that.

MARK. You should see my sister. If you think I can keep a secret, you should see my sister.

BRIAN. What? She had a baby, she didn’t tell anybody?

MARK. No, close but—

BRIAN. She’s a lesbian—

MARK. No, close—she’s a doctor. Whole time she was at school we all thought she was there for art history.

BRIAN. How do you know she didn’t have a baby?

Mark shrugs.

BRIAN. So when did you two get back together?

MARK. A few weeks.

BRIAN. A few weeks?

MARK. A month.

BRIAN. You’ve been back together for a month and you haven’t told your best friend?!

MARK. I was scared to. Not scared with you particularly, but scared in general. I’ve been through so much with this girl I’m afraid to tell anybody about it. It’s embarrasing. It’s embarrasing what I’ve put up with from her. It’s embarrasing what I’ve done to her. I’m scared for myself because I want it to work out. I need this to work out this time or I really am done. I’ve opened myself up for this girl.

BRIAN. I know.

MARK. Anyway I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.

BRIAN. It’s okay.

MARK. I wanted to, I just..needed to deal with some aspects of this on my own before I let anyone back into the strange and wonderful world of me and..

BRIAN. Are you gonna get another place together?

MARK. We already did.

BRIAN. Of course. that place on—

MARK. Franklin. Right. So far it’s been really nice.

BRIAN. I’m happy for you, man. You deserve it.

MARK. Thank you.

BRIAN. Smackin’ that ass?

MARK. You know it.

BRIAN. Good times?

MARK. Never had any problem in that department. There’s only one thing better than Asian women.

BRIAN. What’s that?

MARK. Half-Asian women.

BRIAN. What about that guy? What was that guy’s name?

MARK. I don’t want to say that guy’s name. She said she’d stop seeing that guy.

BRIAN. Has or would.

MARK. Has. She deleted his number from her phone.

BRIAN. You saw her do it?

MARK. Why?

BRIAN. How did they get back together last time?

MARK. He called her.

Brian shrugs.

MARK. She said she’s done with him.

BRIAN. I hope so.

MARK. I hope so, too, but what can I do? I’m in love with the girl. She said she’s done. She gives me such a hard time about that shit.

BRIAN. She gives you a hard time?

MARK. She thinks I’m too controlling. I tried to tell her: I don’t want to control you, I’m not trying to be in your business. I’m not even necessarily demanding full monogamy. She doesn’t demand it from me.

BRIAN. I don’t see how you do that.

MARK. Who knows? Maybe someday when I’m fifty I’ll meet some choker-wearing bleach blond little goth girl and wanna throw her against the wall. Maybe she’ll want to do the same. She’s always talking about her grad students: someday I’m gonna have research assistants, all this..whatever, it’s all a theory, now: she has no grad students and I have no bleach-blond choker girls, it’s just me and her in a tiny apartment in little tokyo..

BRIAN. What if he calls her again?

Mark shrugs.

BRIAN. I’m not trying to say he’s gonna. I just don’t want to see you hurt.

MARK. I’m trying not to bring it up with her. She flips out. She says I don’t even want her talking to other men. All I’m saying is why do other men have to be an issue? Like she comes home from the grocery store and starts telling me how some guy was flirting with her.

BRIAN. Did she flirt back?

MARK. I don’t know. Frankly, I don’t care. People flirt with people. I hope she didn’t flirt back. I hope she didn’t give him her number or anything like that, but really, what can I do? I mean honestly, does some checkout girl flirt with me at the grocery? Yes she does. Some bank teller? Yes. Some actress? You know they do more than flirt. I mean, what, am I supposed to go out hunting down every man that through the course of a given day happens to flirt with my wife? What I can’t stand, though..? Why is it such a big deal to her ? That’s the problem. Waitress flirts with me. I have a five-second fantasy of how nice she would be to fuck. Then I move on with my day. By the time I get home, sincerely, I have no want or desire to mention it to my wife. What does it mean that she’s still talking to me about some guy in the supermarket at the end of the day? Maybe for her it’s more than a five-second fantasy. I don’t know. Maybe I’m paranoid.

Brian looks silently at his friend.

MARK. I wake up the other night, she’s on the phone with her ex-boyfriend—

BRIAN. Which one?—

MARK. The other one—

BRIAN. Got it—

MARK. And they’re giggling..about something..

BRIAN. Is this the one who threatened to kill you?

MARK. Well, that’s the thing.

BRIAN. So he did say that?

MARK. I’m paying for this phone call, mind you.

BRIAN. Unbelievable.

MARK. I wasn’t rude, I just took the phone out of her hand and said ‘hi, is this’—insert the name of asshole ex-boyfriend here— ‘yes, terribly sorry, but you’re going to have to call the lady back on a landline. My plan doesn’t include enough minutes for all-night gigglefests with murderous ex-boyfriends. Would you like the number?’

BRIAN. You didn’t give him the number.

MARK. I can’t make her not give it to him.

BRIAN. He threatened to kill you..?

MARK. I told her: if that motherfucker ever comes around with the intention to act on that threat, she better find a new gigglebuddy because I will stab him in the neck with a bic pen— right here—

Mark demonstrates, on brian, where the stabbing will occur.

MARK. Then I’ll pull the pen out of his neck and use it to write a check to his grandmother or whoever that says ‘fuck you. Sorry about your kid. Please use the enclosed amount to adopt a chinese whore.’ I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’ll stop.

BRIAN. How can she even do that to you?

MARK. They’re friends. They’ve known each other for a long time.

BRIAN. Smackin’ that ass, though?

MARK. She can never decide. One night she says she needs a break from sex, the next night she brings home a bottle of wine and wakes me up by sucking my dick.

BRIAN. She says she needs a break from sex?

MARK. It’s like an academic thing, philosophical thing, like feminism..but newer.

BRIAN. And she brings home a bottle of wine.

MARK. She didn’t even want to drink it herself. It was clear she was trying to get me drunk. And then we fuck.

BRIAN. Was it good?

MARK. I always love drunk sex with her.

BRIAN. Man.

MARK. We used to post up in the kitchen doing shot after shot of firewater and then fuck. She didn’t let herself come, though. The other night she didn’t. She only wanted me to.

BRIAN. That’s a power thing. That’s a bad sign.

MARK. I know.

BRIAN. I’m serious, dude, that’s almost as bad as rape.

MARK. Now I’m feeling bad though.

Brian looks at his friend confused.

MARK. I went in her diary.

BRIAN. What?

MARK. I was on her computer. There’s a folder..called ‘journal’.

Brian shakes his head.

MARK. No, I know..I never did anything like that before, but..all this stuff: late night phone calls, and I found a receipt.

BRIAN. A receipt for what?

MARK. She won’t talk about it. It was for flowers. I asked her about it and she just won’t even talk about it.

BRIAN. How can she do that?

MARK. She threw it away and locked herself in the bathroom. She won’t look at me when I ask her about it. It’s just—the subject’s closed—it doesn’t exist, somehow.

BRIAN. That’s fucked up.

MARK. I told her, too: I’m not looking to become Adolph Hitler here. I don’t want to control your life. I’m not even asking who she has lunch with—

BRIAN. I would.

MARK. All I’m trying to do is not get HIV, you know? This isn’t nineteen fifty-seven. I’ll never get to marry a virgin. No one’s saving themself for me. I wish girls played more hard to get..then, when they were with me, maybe it would be a little harder for every other guy who walks into a supermarket to get under their skin. You know? I’ll court a girl. I’ll wait that out. I don’t need to be having sex on the first date. I mean that’s fine: look at me: I’m a second date guy.

Brian laughs.

MARK. I always fuck a girl on the second date.

BRIAN. I guess I’m a first date guy.

MARK. No you’re a one date guy. I’ll never understand that. Like that makeup girl—

BRIAN. Oooh, I’m telling you, you should have seen this girl’s pigtails—

MARK. Then why don’t you go back for more?

Brian shrugs.

MARK. I mean, for me, even if it is just sex, I’m in it for like..three months..four months..

BRIAN. As you say: ‘to each their own’.

MARK. To each their own. And no judgement. But what I want right now, is a girl with some loyalty. I want a girl that goes to the grocery store and notices the peppers. Some thick skin. And eyes for me.

BRIAN. I hope that happens for you, man.

Mark chuckles.

MARK. I hope it’s happening now. But it’s not.

BRIAN. What do you mean?

MARK. I mean that girl who notices the peppers, that’s not my girl.

Brian looks confused.

MARK. You know she’s fucking someone else. You know she is. She doesn’t try to hide it. I have to hide stuff but she doesn’t have to hide anything. If she and I are walking down Hollywood Boulevard and I glance at a half-naked mannequin I’m gonna get reamed out about it for the next half a day. Every third shop on Hollywood Boulevard is a panty shop. Not looking at panties on Hollywood Boulevard is like not getting drunk at mardi gras. But she’s allowed to not even come home and I’m asking her where she was, not because I want to know if she fucked someone else— I mean, yeah, I want to know if she fucked someone else—but primarily I want to know where my little girl was. I mean, just tell me: I worked late and slept over my girlfriend’s. She doesn’t even call me. I can’t sleep. Even among housemates, you know, people worry about each other.

BRIAN. What night was this?

MARK. This was two nights ago.

BRIAN. And you’re still staying married?

MARK. I think she thinks we’re going to. I just want her to talk to me.

BRIAN. But she’s talking to her ex-boyfriend.

MARK. Right.

BRIAN. Not the one she’s fucking.

MARK. Right. The weird thing with me and her is: she does want me around for some reason. She’s not breaking up with me. She likes going shopping together. She doesn’t enjoy sex with me anymore, she doesn’t tell me what she’s really feeling, about life. But she likes waking up next to me, and she likes when I clean. It’s like I’m her maid, or her pet. I think she wants the company.

BRIAN. Mark.

MARK. What?

BRIAN. I have something to tell you. I’m fucking Sarah.

MARK. Really.

Mark gathers his things and leaves.

BRIAN. Mark.

Mark lingers.

BRIAN. She doesn’t talk to me, either.