Unnamed Play, Scene 3

A BAR: BRIAN is sitting at the bar, drinking a gin and tonic and trying to make conversation with a WOMAN. He’s had a few already.

BRIAN I’m just abysmal at meeting people for the first time. I just keep fucking shit up. This one time, a while ago, at some party, one of my friends introduced me to his new girlfriend. For some reason I still don’t remember (the evening was at the time far too advanced for accurate memories) he left the two of us alone for about a half an hour. So we got to talking, and the booze was making her seem a lot more interesting, and a lot more attractive than she in fact was. And she gave me her number. Now, I didn’t ask for her number, and I certainly hadn’t intended to give her mine, but there are some things that I’m genetically incapable of doing, and withholding my number from what at least appears to be a witty and attractive woman is one of them. My friend came back, and she acted like nothing had happened, and I vomited all over his shoes, so we were pretty much done for the night. The next day I get a call from her. I was bored, so we talked some more. Keep in mind, though, because this is important, that I was still working with the false image of her I’d gotten while intoxicated the night before, both physically and intellectually. So when she asked me, in the same manner you would expect from someone asking you the name of your favorite movie, about the length of my penis, I gave her an answer. Thinking back I’m still not sure why I did this, but in any case I felt I was owed a measurement. Now, so I don’t seem like a total douche, let me make it clear that when I asked her how deep she was I was joking. She apparently didn’t understand that, and moreover hadn’t a clue, as she’d told me it was an area she’d never explored herself, and now she was curious. It was beyond my comprehension that someone would masturbate for the first time in order to make a measurement. Anyways, I hung up the phone while she was getting to know herself better, even though she asked me to stay on the line. Next day my phone rings, I pick it up to hear a bitter voice say: Thank you Brian, I’m now no longer a virgin. Apparently she broke something… I didn’t ask for details. I guess I should have figured she was a virgin, but she never told me. She told her boyfriend, though. I think that may have been a selling point. Now she has some explaining to do, and apparently it’s my fault. I was just making a joke, I wasn’t trying to make anyone bleed! Anyways, I guess she came up with some sort of a lie for her boyfriend, because otherwise I never would have heard the end of it from him. Come to think of it, I haven’t seen him since, and I’m certain that she had something to do with it. And what’s worse, I’m the only one who seems to be impressed by the fact that I caused a hymen to rupture from fifty miles away.

I’m sorry, I kind of went off on a tangent there. What was it you said?

WOMAN Hello?

BRIAN Right. Hello. Can I buy you a drink?

WOMAN Actually I think it would be a much better idea if you just went over there and never spoke to me again.

BRIAN I understand. It’s like I said… I’m not very good at—

WOMAN Piss off!

BRIAN gets up and rejoins KEVIN, who has seen and heard everything.

KEVIN I’ve got to ask you something

BRIAN Oh?

KEVIN Has there been a single moment ever in your life when you would have been better off telling that story than not telling it?

BRIAN Well I…

KEVIN What did you think was going to come of this? I mean what the fuck? I’m trying to help you out here and you go talking about that shit? Have you heard of conversation? You should try it some time; you’ll find it’s a happy alternative to your fucking hymen story.

BRIAN Didn’t I tell you that I’m no good at this?

KEVIN “Not good at this” is hardly the phrase. You’re like a monkey fucking a football out there!

BRIAN Okay! Christ!

KEVIN Listen, there are three types of stories you tell to women you’ve just met. Triumph in confrontation, triumph in competition, and funny stories that touch upon how great you are. Also, and this is important, never tell stories about someone else. You have maybe a couple of minutes to sell yourself before the guy at the end of the bar who just bought her a drink draws her attention.

BRIAN But I don’t really have any good stories like that

KEVIN So what? You call yourself a writer. Make them up!

BRIAN Well what if I’m looking for something more than cheap, meaningless sex?

KEVIN (ponders this) I have absolutely no idea.