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On Friday, I took part in my second Write or Flight event. I was taken to a theoretically creepy location to write a short play overnight. I ended up at a building which was once a gun shop. Years ago, guns were stolen and used in several murders. Some people believe the building is haunted.
I don't believe in ghosts, and wasn't at all creeped out, except once, shortly after waking up, when I saw a giant earwig/centipede-looking beast scramble past me.
For better or worse, this is what I came up with. It will be performed on Saturday. Wanna come see?
Characters:
Nausicaa
Odysseus
A grubby-looking and unkempt man in nasty-looking underwear and a wedding band is sleeping amongst some plants.
A young woman enters carrying laundry supplies and a basket heaping with clothes. She ignores the man in the bushes and addresses the audience directly.
Nausicaa:
The way I figure, people were stupider back then. There's no other explanation, aside from divine intervention. And maybe that's the case, but I like to think there's more free will than that. Did people make their own terrible, illogical decisions, or were the dreadful ideas put in their heads as entertainment for bored gods? You must think, whoa; people were even dumber back then than they are now? Sheesh! Look at how much of an idiot the average person is! Look at reality tv! Look at shows like Jackass, Jersey Shore, and Honey Boo Boo! Did those people come up with these boneheaded ideas on their own, or are pantheons still filled with ennui and are gods playing around with people's motivation for shits and giggles?
Maybe I've gone and argued myself right into a corner. Fine. Gods or no gods, people are idiots. They're idiots now, and they were idiots then. The story I'm going to share with you is old. And even if you aren't familiar with the nitty-gritty details, or with me, chances are you've probably heard of him. (Turns to look at Odysseus. Sets down the basket and stretches.)
This is just another story with Odysseus in it. He's the dude who invented the Trojan horse. You've probably heard of that. If not, I'm sure you've heard of the condoms. Well, perhaps he didn't come up with rubbers, but it's not entirely inappropriate that he's only two degrees of separation from them. The man was a playa, after all. He was also the greatest mortal genius in Greek mythology. He was revered for his craftiness, his intellect, and his powers of persuasion. He had a silver tongue… or so we're told.
In truth, the man was a douchebag with lines a kid in middle school would know better than to use, and they only worked because he had a god on his side.
Ok, maybe that's not entirely fair.
In comparison to the other morons in The Odyssey, maybe he was a bloomin' genius. There are all sorts of instances in the story where people are just plain dumb-asses. Wait'll you see what Nausicaa does, and then you'll know what I mean.
I'll be playing the part of Nausicaa, by the way.
Hi. I'm Nausicaa. Nice to meetcha. My Dad's the mayor of this city, so yeah, I default to being one of the popular girls. (shrugs) But just because I'm the mayor's daughter doesn't mean I'm a spoiled bitch or anything. Hell, no. Daddy makes sure I see the value of having a "work ethic." Tonight, I'm gonna tell you about the time I met (gestures to Odysseus with her chin) him. And just to keep things fresh, you can forget about all the once-upon-a-time shit. You're going to see this like it's all going down right now, and not way back then. You're going to see the story … unfold.
(starts sorting laundry)
Here's the deal. Last night, I was having a sleepover. It was just me and a couple of my friends. We were up pretty late doing girl stuff. You know, shootin' the shit, trying on different outfits, having some wine, mani-pedis, that sort of thing. (rolls eyes) No, we were not having pillow fights…. Or maybe we did. Total cliché, I know. Sue me. I guess we got a bit trashed, because someone spilled wine all over the clothes. Don't you hate it when that happens? At least it was white wine. Anyhow, we all passed out, but then I dream my bestie shows up. She takes one look at the state of things and calls me on it.
She says my clothes are a disaster, and how the hell do I expect to land a decent man when my clothes are all wrinkled and stained? I swear, it's just like a home ec film from the 50s or something. I say yeah, yeah, yeah. Enough, already. I'll clean it all. And then I remember that our new washer and drier have been sent back because they are the wrong colour. As if anyone cares what colour the washer and drier are. My parents are on crack. Seriously, what a pain in the ass!
So when I woke up this morning--miraculously not hungover--I borrowed the car from the parental units, came to this laundromat, and now I'm about to do something about this heap of laundry.
Laundry isn't exactly a common theme in Greek mythology. My story sticks out, in that regard. But as long as there have been clothes, people with a sense of smell and style have found the need to wash them.
The gods give us strange gifts. Soap is a bit of quid pro quo. They say that upstream in Lesbos, people were making the usual burnt animal sacrifices to the gods, and when it rained, ash and fat would run into the river. When women washed their clothes downstream, they discovered that when the water ran yellow, it added brightness to whiteness. Funny, that.
Odysseus:
(Odysseus yawns, stretches, then looks confused)
What the? Where am I?
(He notices the audience, and the confusion is replaced by a smug smile. He doesn't appear to see Nausicaa. Grabs a potted plant to cover his nakedness.)
Hey. How ya doin'?
I'm Odysseus. Don't mind me. I just had a bit of a rough night. I crashed my car on the way home to the wife, fell in the river, and somehow, fell out of my clothes. Yeah, I know. It sounds unlikely to me, too. No car, no clothes, no keys, no ID, no cell phone, no nothing! I don't know where the hell I am. It might be some podunk town where the people are all inbred one-eyed freaks, or if I'm lucky, there'll be some hot chick, instead. It's often one or the other with me.
(peers around)
Ok, I see a laundromat. Well, that's promising. Inbred one-eyed freaks aren't exactly concerned about personal hygiene.
(Sees Nausicaa)
Oh, what do we have here? Turn around, turn around, turn around. Don't be a butter face, don't be a butter face….
(Nausicaa turns her head a bit while getting laundry sorted, and Odysseus catches a look)
Score!
(takes off wedding ring and palms it. Strikes a pose and coughs to catch Nausicaa's attention. She looks over.)
You're one beautiful woman, and that's not just the bleach fumes talking.
Nausicaa:
(looks at audience)
See what I mean?
(looks back at Odysseus)
Odysseus:
Oh, you heavenly creature. You are from heaven, aren't you? No, you don't need to answer that, because of course you are. Someone as hot as you must be a goddess. But if I'm wrong, your entire family must be ecstatic to be related to someone so fine as you. And whatever guy is lucky enough to call you his girl would be even happier.
(looks her up and down)
Never in all my life have I seen someone as gorgeous as you, and I've seen some major honeys in my day.
I sure would love to score a chick like you, but you're way out of my league.
You must be wondering why I'm here looking like this.
Nausicaa:
(Addresses audience)
Ok. You see the scenario. A woman is minding her own business when a creepy guy in filthy skivvies jumps out of the bushes and starts hitting on her. In The Odyssey, he's bare-assed naked, but we don't need to see that. Who, in their right mind, would fall for this guy in this situation?
Personally, I'd say something like, "Get away from me before I pepper spray the bejeezus out of you."
Seriously. W T F.
(shakes head, then looks back at Odysseus)
Odysseus:
I had one hell of a time. I crashed my car, there was a storm, and somehow, my clothes went missing. I had to sleep under that bush, and it sure did get chilly last night. Brr…. I don't suppose there's any chance you can spare something for me to wear, is there? Or maybe there's something in the lost and found bin?
(looks her up and down intently)
Damn, girl. You are fine!
Nausicaa:
There's probably a good reason you're in this mess. Were you drunk driving or something? No, don't answer that. I really don't want to know. You're just lucky you found me, because I have a soft spot for hard luck cases. Yeah, I'll help you out.
Go wash up. You look like shit warmed over. (rummages through laundry and hands him a few things) Here's a towel, and these might fit.
Odysseus:
Thank you, thank you. Your generosity is only exceeded by your good looks.
(takes the clothes, starts walking away, and addresses audience)
She must work for UPS, because she was checking out my package. Heh heh heh….
(mimes washing up and grooming)
Time to wash up. Cleanliness is next to godliness, you know. No, seriously. Ritual purification is a big deal. There's a reason that soap powder got named Ajax. Ajax. Strong guy. Great fighter. Stronger than grease. Get it? Greece? Yeah. Bad pun, I know. Don't blame me. I didn't come up with it.
(gestures to Nausicaa) She might not even know it, but washing those clothes and dressing me (begins to get dressed) is a holy action. Circe did it for me, and when I get back with my wife Penelope (takes wedding ring, kisses it, and puts it in a pocket), there will be another ritual bath ahead of me. Just you wait and see. You'd be amazed at what soap, water, and clean clothes can accomplish. The gods all love me.
Well, except for Poseidon. Oops.
Seriously, though. They do love me. I've been blessed. They don't mess around with my head like they do with other people's. I sometimes wish they'd leave well enough alone, but I have a feeling today is going to work out in my favour.
Not that it always does, of course. Look at the Trojan War, for example. I can think of things I'd rather do than go all the way to another country and wage war for years. Glory is great, but let's face it, war sucks balls. And to think that the whole thing was caused by divine intervention. Helen of Troy was a nice enough lady, as far as I know. There she was, minding her own business, perfectly cool with being married to Menelaus when she got mind-controlled by a goddess and next thing she knows, she's wildly in love with Paris, skipping off with him to Troy. I don't blame Helen, for that one. That was all Paris. He was stupid enough to try to play the gods off one another, and it landed him in the shit. Helen was collateral damage. It pays to stay on the good side of the gods. All of them.
Sorry, Poseidon. I owe you one.
Nausicaa:
So maybe someone in their right mind would've had nothing to do with Odysseus, but for someone who decided to stick around, I guess my reaction hasn't been too bad. Ok, maybe I was a tad condescending, but he had it coming.
This part coming up is the part of the story which makes no sense. I swear, my common sense just gets up and leaves. It's a common trope in mythology. Someone will behave in a perfectly logical fashion, and shazam! A god will stir up that person's brain meats and make them act in a completely illogical fashion. It happens to Oedipus, when he refuses to recognize that his creepy mofo ways are what's cursing the land. It happens to Pharaoh when he refuses to let the Israelites go. And it's about to happen to me.
I looked up dream interpretations when I woke up this morning. Apparently, dreaming about going to the laundromat means transformation is in store. That transformation happens to me in 3, 2, 1…. (sees Odysseus show up in clothes which fit well) Well, hello….
Not two minutes ago, I was part creeped out by and part feeling sorry for him. I wasn't even slightly attracted. But now, just like magic, I want me a piece of that. Clothes make the man, 'cause every girl's crazy 'bout a sharp-dressed man.
Odysseus:
(Odysseus looks pretty pleased with himself)
I clean up well.
Nausicaa:
I'll say.
Look, my friends are just out back. They're heading to my place now. Why don't you go with them? I still have to finish my laundry, but I really want you to meet my parents. I just know we're going to be an item. I had a dream last night that having clean laundry would land me a man. I never expected it would be so soon, or that it would be the man wearing the laundry I washed. Fate sure does have weird ways of working out, doesn't it?
(scribbles on a piece of paper and presses it into his hand)
I still have a few loads in the drier, but why don't you go with my girlfriends, and I'll meet you there? Here's my address and phone number, just in case you get separated.
Odysseus:
You betcha, babe! See you soon.
Nausicaa:
(Watches him leave, then does a face palm)
What the hell is wrong with me? And where did he get those clothes? I don't even own any like that. Stupid gods and their stupid miracles. (Shakes fist at the sky)
I don't believe in ghosts, and wasn't at all creeped out, except once, shortly after waking up, when I saw a giant earwig/centipede-looking beast scramble past me.
For better or worse, this is what I came up with. It will be performed on Saturday. Wanna come see?
Characters:
Nausicaa
Odysseus
A grubby-looking and unkempt man in nasty-looking underwear and a wedding band is sleeping amongst some plants.
A young woman enters carrying laundry supplies and a basket heaping with clothes. She ignores the man in the bushes and addresses the audience directly.
Nausicaa:
The way I figure, people were stupider back then. There's no other explanation, aside from divine intervention. And maybe that's the case, but I like to think there's more free will than that. Did people make their own terrible, illogical decisions, or were the dreadful ideas put in their heads as entertainment for bored gods? You must think, whoa; people were even dumber back then than they are now? Sheesh! Look at how much of an idiot the average person is! Look at reality tv! Look at shows like Jackass, Jersey Shore, and Honey Boo Boo! Did those people come up with these boneheaded ideas on their own, or are pantheons still filled with ennui and are gods playing around with people's motivation for shits and giggles?
Maybe I've gone and argued myself right into a corner. Fine. Gods or no gods, people are idiots. They're idiots now, and they were idiots then. The story I'm going to share with you is old. And even if you aren't familiar with the nitty-gritty details, or with me, chances are you've probably heard of him. (Turns to look at Odysseus. Sets down the basket and stretches.)
This is just another story with Odysseus in it. He's the dude who invented the Trojan horse. You've probably heard of that. If not, I'm sure you've heard of the condoms. Well, perhaps he didn't come up with rubbers, but it's not entirely inappropriate that he's only two degrees of separation from them. The man was a playa, after all. He was also the greatest mortal genius in Greek mythology. He was revered for his craftiness, his intellect, and his powers of persuasion. He had a silver tongue… or so we're told.
In truth, the man was a douchebag with lines a kid in middle school would know better than to use, and they only worked because he had a god on his side.
Ok, maybe that's not entirely fair.
In comparison to the other morons in The Odyssey, maybe he was a bloomin' genius. There are all sorts of instances in the story where people are just plain dumb-asses. Wait'll you see what Nausicaa does, and then you'll know what I mean.
I'll be playing the part of Nausicaa, by the way.
Hi. I'm Nausicaa. Nice to meetcha. My Dad's the mayor of this city, so yeah, I default to being one of the popular girls. (shrugs) But just because I'm the mayor's daughter doesn't mean I'm a spoiled bitch or anything. Hell, no. Daddy makes sure I see the value of having a "work ethic." Tonight, I'm gonna tell you about the time I met (gestures to Odysseus with her chin) him. And just to keep things fresh, you can forget about all the once-upon-a-time shit. You're going to see this like it's all going down right now, and not way back then. You're going to see the story … unfold.
(starts sorting laundry)
Here's the deal. Last night, I was having a sleepover. It was just me and a couple of my friends. We were up pretty late doing girl stuff. You know, shootin' the shit, trying on different outfits, having some wine, mani-pedis, that sort of thing. (rolls eyes) No, we were not having pillow fights…. Or maybe we did. Total cliché, I know. Sue me. I guess we got a bit trashed, because someone spilled wine all over the clothes. Don't you hate it when that happens? At least it was white wine. Anyhow, we all passed out, but then I dream my bestie shows up. She takes one look at the state of things and calls me on it.
She says my clothes are a disaster, and how the hell do I expect to land a decent man when my clothes are all wrinkled and stained? I swear, it's just like a home ec film from the 50s or something. I say yeah, yeah, yeah. Enough, already. I'll clean it all. And then I remember that our new washer and drier have been sent back because they are the wrong colour. As if anyone cares what colour the washer and drier are. My parents are on crack. Seriously, what a pain in the ass!
So when I woke up this morning--miraculously not hungover--I borrowed the car from the parental units, came to this laundromat, and now I'm about to do something about this heap of laundry.
Laundry isn't exactly a common theme in Greek mythology. My story sticks out, in that regard. But as long as there have been clothes, people with a sense of smell and style have found the need to wash them.
The gods give us strange gifts. Soap is a bit of quid pro quo. They say that upstream in Lesbos, people were making the usual burnt animal sacrifices to the gods, and when it rained, ash and fat would run into the river. When women washed their clothes downstream, they discovered that when the water ran yellow, it added brightness to whiteness. Funny, that.
Odysseus:
(Odysseus yawns, stretches, then looks confused)
What the? Where am I?
(He notices the audience, and the confusion is replaced by a smug smile. He doesn't appear to see Nausicaa. Grabs a potted plant to cover his nakedness.)
Hey. How ya doin'?
I'm Odysseus. Don't mind me. I just had a bit of a rough night. I crashed my car on the way home to the wife, fell in the river, and somehow, fell out of my clothes. Yeah, I know. It sounds unlikely to me, too. No car, no clothes, no keys, no ID, no cell phone, no nothing! I don't know where the hell I am. It might be some podunk town where the people are all inbred one-eyed freaks, or if I'm lucky, there'll be some hot chick, instead. It's often one or the other with me.
(peers around)
Ok, I see a laundromat. Well, that's promising. Inbred one-eyed freaks aren't exactly concerned about personal hygiene.
(Sees Nausicaa)
Oh, what do we have here? Turn around, turn around, turn around. Don't be a butter face, don't be a butter face….
(Nausicaa turns her head a bit while getting laundry sorted, and Odysseus catches a look)
Score!
(takes off wedding ring and palms it. Strikes a pose and coughs to catch Nausicaa's attention. She looks over.)
You're one beautiful woman, and that's not just the bleach fumes talking.
Nausicaa:
(looks at audience)
See what I mean?
(looks back at Odysseus)
Odysseus:
Oh, you heavenly creature. You are from heaven, aren't you? No, you don't need to answer that, because of course you are. Someone as hot as you must be a goddess. But if I'm wrong, your entire family must be ecstatic to be related to someone so fine as you. And whatever guy is lucky enough to call you his girl would be even happier.
(looks her up and down)
Never in all my life have I seen someone as gorgeous as you, and I've seen some major honeys in my day.
I sure would love to score a chick like you, but you're way out of my league.
You must be wondering why I'm here looking like this.
Nausicaa:
(Addresses audience)
Ok. You see the scenario. A woman is minding her own business when a creepy guy in filthy skivvies jumps out of the bushes and starts hitting on her. In The Odyssey, he's bare-assed naked, but we don't need to see that. Who, in their right mind, would fall for this guy in this situation?
Personally, I'd say something like, "Get away from me before I pepper spray the bejeezus out of you."
Seriously. W T F.
(shakes head, then looks back at Odysseus)
Odysseus:
I had one hell of a time. I crashed my car, there was a storm, and somehow, my clothes went missing. I had to sleep under that bush, and it sure did get chilly last night. Brr…. I don't suppose there's any chance you can spare something for me to wear, is there? Or maybe there's something in the lost and found bin?
(looks her up and down intently)
Damn, girl. You are fine!
Nausicaa:
There's probably a good reason you're in this mess. Were you drunk driving or something? No, don't answer that. I really don't want to know. You're just lucky you found me, because I have a soft spot for hard luck cases. Yeah, I'll help you out.
Go wash up. You look like shit warmed over. (rummages through laundry and hands him a few things) Here's a towel, and these might fit.
Odysseus:
Thank you, thank you. Your generosity is only exceeded by your good looks.
(takes the clothes, starts walking away, and addresses audience)
She must work for UPS, because she was checking out my package. Heh heh heh….
(mimes washing up and grooming)
Time to wash up. Cleanliness is next to godliness, you know. No, seriously. Ritual purification is a big deal. There's a reason that soap powder got named Ajax. Ajax. Strong guy. Great fighter. Stronger than grease. Get it? Greece? Yeah. Bad pun, I know. Don't blame me. I didn't come up with it.
(gestures to Nausicaa) She might not even know it, but washing those clothes and dressing me (begins to get dressed) is a holy action. Circe did it for me, and when I get back with my wife Penelope (takes wedding ring, kisses it, and puts it in a pocket), there will be another ritual bath ahead of me. Just you wait and see. You'd be amazed at what soap, water, and clean clothes can accomplish. The gods all love me.
Well, except for Poseidon. Oops.
Seriously, though. They do love me. I've been blessed. They don't mess around with my head like they do with other people's. I sometimes wish they'd leave well enough alone, but I have a feeling today is going to work out in my favour.
Not that it always does, of course. Look at the Trojan War, for example. I can think of things I'd rather do than go all the way to another country and wage war for years. Glory is great, but let's face it, war sucks balls. And to think that the whole thing was caused by divine intervention. Helen of Troy was a nice enough lady, as far as I know. There she was, minding her own business, perfectly cool with being married to Menelaus when she got mind-controlled by a goddess and next thing she knows, she's wildly in love with Paris, skipping off with him to Troy. I don't blame Helen, for that one. That was all Paris. He was stupid enough to try to play the gods off one another, and it landed him in the shit. Helen was collateral damage. It pays to stay on the good side of the gods. All of them.
Sorry, Poseidon. I owe you one.
Nausicaa:
So maybe someone in their right mind would've had nothing to do with Odysseus, but for someone who decided to stick around, I guess my reaction hasn't been too bad. Ok, maybe I was a tad condescending, but he had it coming.
This part coming up is the part of the story which makes no sense. I swear, my common sense just gets up and leaves. It's a common trope in mythology. Someone will behave in a perfectly logical fashion, and shazam! A god will stir up that person's brain meats and make them act in a completely illogical fashion. It happens to Oedipus, when he refuses to recognize that his creepy mofo ways are what's cursing the land. It happens to Pharaoh when he refuses to let the Israelites go. And it's about to happen to me.
I looked up dream interpretations when I woke up this morning. Apparently, dreaming about going to the laundromat means transformation is in store. That transformation happens to me in 3, 2, 1…. (sees Odysseus show up in clothes which fit well) Well, hello….
Not two minutes ago, I was part creeped out by and part feeling sorry for him. I wasn't even slightly attracted. But now, just like magic, I want me a piece of that. Clothes make the man, 'cause every girl's crazy 'bout a sharp-dressed man.
Odysseus:
(Odysseus looks pretty pleased with himself)
I clean up well.
Nausicaa:
I'll say.
Look, my friends are just out back. They're heading to my place now. Why don't you go with them? I still have to finish my laundry, but I really want you to meet my parents. I just know we're going to be an item. I had a dream last night that having clean laundry would land me a man. I never expected it would be so soon, or that it would be the man wearing the laundry I washed. Fate sure does have weird ways of working out, doesn't it?
(scribbles on a piece of paper and presses it into his hand)
I still have a few loads in the drier, but why don't you go with my girlfriends, and I'll meet you there? Here's my address and phone number, just in case you get separated.
Odysseus:
You betcha, babe! See you soon.
Nausicaa:
(Watches him leave, then does a face palm)
What the hell is wrong with me? And where did he get those clothes? I don't even own any like that. Stupid gods and their stupid miracles. (Shakes fist at the sky)
