Gay & Lesbian

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Three Gender Plays: Nelly Boy, My Funny Valentine, and Ladies and Gentlemen, Boys and Girls
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It's All TRU

KURT. Well I suppose i should thank you for...being honest with me... (pause) I suppose. So have you taken PEP?
TRAVIS. I told you I have the prescription but —   KURT. No not PREP. PEP.   TRAVIS. Oh, you mean the   KURT. Yes PEP, the after one.   TRAVIS. Oh that’s right...PREP is before...   KURT. Which would have been much better to take but since you haven’t then you should go to the hospital emergency and have them give you PEP right away. Has it been more than 72 hours?   TRAVIS. Just.   KURT. Well that’s what you should do then. Go to emergency tonight.   TRAVIS. Okay, I will.   KURT. I should say so. (He clears his plate to the counter) So, are we finished?   TRAVIS. With —   KURT. With this discussion?   TRAVIS. Yes. I guess so. I just wanted you to know.   KURT. As long as you take the PEP then we’ll consider the matter over. After all, there’s nothing we can do about it. And then start taking the TRUVADA. You WILL start taking the Truvada?
TRAVIS. Of course I will.   KURT. Good. (He moves to go.)   TRAVIS. Where are you going?   KURT. I’m going to my study.   TRAVIS. Oh. (pause) You don’t want any....dessert?   KURT (pause). I’m not in the mood right now. (pause) Maybe later. (He makes a move to go)   TRAVIS. Kurt.   KURT. What.   TRAVIS. Are you mad at me?   KURT. Not exactly. I’m perturbed. But I’ll get over it.   TRAVIS. You will?   KURT. Of course I will. I love you. (pause) Do you want to go to emergency with you?   TRAVIS. No I think I can go myself. (pause) I love you too, and ....I’m sorry.   KURT. Yes, I know you are. See you later. (He leaves the kitchen, TRAVIS starts to clean things up as the lights dim. Music.)

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Acha Bacha

ZAYA: Hey pretty woman. Hey...   MA: [Opens her eyes and slaps ZAYA’s hand away.] Hey hey ka bacha, salaam karne bul gaye?   ZAYA: Oh my god ma I was just saying hi.   MA: Tho phir salaam karo.   ZAYA: Assalaam’olaikum.   MA: Good. Walekum’assalaam. [Beat.] Kaise aayo?   ZAYA: My friend drove me.   MA: Kaun?   ZAYA: Salim. The teacher? Remember? The one who asks for your biryani recipe / every time -   MA: Oh. Haan, haan.   ZAYA: Yeah they’re just – Salim’s just waiting downstairs... So I can’t stay too long I’m sorry.   MA: Kyun?   ZAYA: Well I need a ride back home.   MA: Laila dey sakti hai.   ZAYA:  No she can’t, she can only get here on her lunch break.   MA: Tho phir wait karo. Mere saath.   ZAYA:  I can’t. I’ve got things to do today.   MA:  Work hai?   ZAYA: No but I –   MA: Tho phir kya?   ZAYA: Well Salim’s leaving tonight and – Salim needs to finish packing. And I wanna help, so...   MA: Uske paas koi aur friends nahi hai jo –   ZAYA: Ma I want to help.   MA: Tho phir yahan kyun aayo?   ZAYA: I want to see you I just can’t stay too long.   MA: Faida kya hai?   ZAYA: Ma, come on, I’ll see you in two days for Eid.   MA: Nahi nahi, tum jao. Agar tum jaana hai tho jao, aur meh yahan akheley mar jaaongi. Teekh hai?   ZAYA: Oh my god you’re not gonna die.   MA: Tumko kaise patha?   ZAYA: I spoke to the doctor as soon as I got here. She said you have to be more careful especially at your age. And take your pain relief every day. You’ve gotta listen to her, ma.   MA: Haan haan, mujhe patha hai.   ZAYA: Ma, seriously.   MA: Kya seriously? Meh serious hoon.   ZAYA: [Beat.] How did it happen? How did you fall?   MA: Haan.   ZAYA: No how?   MA: Oh meh... Meh trip hui. Mera shawl floor pey tha aur –   ZAYA: Why was your shawl on the floor?   MA: Mujhe kaise patha?   ZAYA: Where was Laila?   MA: Sleeping.   ZAYA:  You weren’t sleeping again?   MA: Nahi. Tum so rahey ho?   ZAYA: We’re not talking about me. Are you taking your sleeping pills?   MA: Haan.   ZAYA: [Beat.] I’m sorry you fell, ma. [Beat.] You look good. [Beat.] Pretty. Like Preity Zinta. [Beat. Singing.] Pretty woman, dekho dekho na, pretty woman... Pretty woman, tum bhi kaho na...   [ZAYA nudges at MA, she gives in, laughs, and sings along.]   ZAYA & MA: Pretty woman, dekho dekho na, pretty –   [SALIM, wearing a jacket and makeup removed, enters with flowers. MA looks at SALIM once and chooses not to look at them again.]   SALIM: Assalam’olaikum aunty.   ZAYA: Salim what are you...   SALIM: Yeh aapke liye, aunty.   [SALIM gives the flowers to MA. She takes them and still does not look.]   ZAYA: Salim I was just about to –   SALIM: Aap kaisi hain? [To ZAYA.] Is she doing ok?   ZAYA: Ma I’ll be right back we’re just gonna be in –   SALIM: Aunty you like the flowers?   ZAYA: Okay can we talk outside.   SALIM: I thought she liked pink roses. You said –   ZAYA: She does. Ma, can you say thank you? It’s very nice of them – of Salim.   MA: Beta meh ab bahothi tired hoon tho I need to sleep. [Turns, facing away, in bed.]   SALIM: Aunty, aap mujhse / baat nahi karna hai?   ZAYA: Salim she’s tired. SALIM: Aunty I’m right here. Can you look at me?   ZAYA: Okay you need to go. Please. [Starts to pull SALIM away.] I’ll / talk to you as –   SALIM: No, I’d like to talk to her, Zaya.   ZAYA: Are you just doing this because we had to have sehri at Tim Hortons?   SALIM: Yes. Yes, that’s exactly why I’m doing this.   ZAYA: Salim. Please. She doesn’t wanna talk to you right now okay?   SALIM: Well I’m asking her –   ZAYA: Ma can you just tell Salim you don’t wanna talk right now?   [Beat. MA sits up in the bed and looks in SALIM’s direction, not at them.]

MA: Why you are here.   SALIM: Aunty meh sirf aapse baat kar... I, I wanted to make sure you’re doing okay. And I want you to know you’re in my prayers.   MA: Hm. You need prayer more than me.   ZAYA: Ma.   SALIM: [Beat.] Okay. [Starts to leave now.]   MA: [Looks toward SALIM.] You know my son do very bad thing?   SALIM: What.   ZAYA: What?   MA: He never tell you?   ZAYA: Salim maybe you / should just –   SALIM: What is she talking about?   ZAYA: I don’t know.   SALIM: You don’t know. ZAYA: I don’t know!   MA: [Lies back down in bed.] Zaya I need to sleep now.   ZAYA: Can you just go wait in the lobby? I’ll be there in a minute. [Beat.] Please.   [SALIM leaves. ZAYA looks at MA.]   ZAYA: Get up. I know you’re not tired.   MA: Kab shaadi karogey?   ZAYA: We’re not talking about that.   MA: / Kyun nahi?   ZAYA: Why did you do that?   MA: Kya? Kya kiya meh ne?   ZAYA: Why did you say that about me?   MA: Kya? You do bad thing? Such hai.   ZAYA: What bad thing are you talking about?   MA: You don’t pray, you don’t fast, you don’t give charity...   ZAYA: Why didn’t you look at Salim?   MA: Tumse matlab?   ZAYA: Salim’s my friend ma.   MA: Tho? Prime Minister nahi hai.   ZAYA: You can’t treat people like that.   MA: I can do what I want.   ZAYA: Would it have killed you to look at Salim?   MA: [Beat.] Uskey nails bahothi barey thay. Aur painted too.   ZAYA: Are you serious?   MA: Nakhun dekhao.   ZAYA: What? No!
[MA grabs ZAYA’s hand and looks at his nails.]

MA: Itne barey ho gaye? Meh kat thi hoon.   ZAYA: No ma I can cut them on my own!   MA: Bet jao.   ZAYA: No I’m not going to –   MA: Sit down Zaya!   [ZAYA gives in and sits down. MA takes out a nail clipper from her purse and begins to clip his nails. This takes time. Silence. The light focuses on both ZAYA and MA’s hands together. Then MA speaks after they’ve both cooled down.]   Ab bathao. Kab shaadi karogey?   ZAYA: I don’t wanna talk about this.   MA: Kyun nahi? Baat karo. / Mujhse baat karo.   ZAYA: I told you before I’m not ready.   MA: Kab ready ho gay? You are twenty seven.   ZAYA: So what?   MA: Tho jab mein yahan se nik lungi, meh Pakistan jaongi aur tumhara pretty woman ko ley kar aaongi here. Bas.   ZAYA: No, thank you.   MA: No thank you ka bacha, tum kaun si type ki ladki pasand karte ho? Bathao na. Bathao na beta!   ZAYA: Okay! Okay. [Beat.] I like naughty girls I guess.   MA: Teekh hai. I find naughty girl for you.   ZAYA: Good.   MA: Yeh joke nahi hai.   ZAYA: I’m not joking either.
[ZAYA and MA laugh together. MA has finished clipping ZAYA’s nails.]   I should go.   MA: Tumko kya hua, beta?   ZAYA: What?   MA: Mujhe patha hai ke something happen. Something happen to you. You change. Itne saalon se tum... You don’t talk, na tum properly eat ya sleep karte ho, tumhare paas driver’s license nahi hai, na wife ya bache, na acha sa job ya home... You have nothing. Kya hua tumhare saath? Mujhe bathao.   ZAYA: I don’t know, nothing... I mean I’m trying. My job isn’t that bad.   MA: You fold clothes Zaya.   ZAYA: I’m the store manager.   MA: You fold clothes.   ZAYA: Okay. I should go check on Salim. I’ll be back. [Starts to leave.]   MA: Oh beta! Mera change of clothes kahan hai?   ZAYA: What change of clothes?   MA: Bul gaye?   ZAYA: What are you talking about?   MA: Laila tumse kaha na, ke I need / change of clothes.   ZAYA: No she didn’t, she never / said that.   MA: Haan, usney kaha. Meh uski saath thi jab she call you. You don’t listen too! ZAYA: Shit. Okay. I, um, I’ll... I’ll get them for you. [Starts to leave again.]   MA: Beta! Shayad Prime Minister tumko help kar sakta hai?   [ZAYA walks out of the hospital room and enters the lobby. The light focuses on SALIM’s face, as they re-apply their make-up. Then, the light expands to the audience. ZAYA takes a step toward SALIM but looks at the audience.]   ZAYA: They’re watching you...   SALIM: Well I hope they’re enjoying the show.   ZAYA: You can see them?   SALIM: No one’s actually looking at me, Zaya. We’re in a hospital lobby. No one cares.   [ZAYA tries to focus on SALIM now, the lights on audience fades out.]   ZAYA: You... You shouldn’t have gone up there.   SALIM: Alright.   ZAYA: Alright? That’s it?   SALIM: Kya chahiye tumko.   ZAYA: You couldn’t have just waited down here?   SALIM: I wanted to see how she was doing.   ZAYA: Your nails are painted.   SALIM: What?   ZAYA: They’re fucking bright red, Salim.   [SALIM looks down at their nails.]
What were you trying to do?   SALIM: I, I wasn’t...   ZAYA: You know how she is.   SALIM: Why would I wipe my whole face and keep my nails on? I just forgot. I had to get the flowers and I, I don’t even know why you’d - if I wanted to make a statement, I can really make a statement, Zaya. / Yeh tumko patha hai.   ZAYA: Okay okay. I just... Look, I’m sorry about what she said to you. It’s just, I’m worried about her, you know she’s always been saying she’s gonna die soon, but I think she actually believes it now, so... So, it’s not good when she gets stressed out.   SALIM: Okay?   ZAYA: And you’ve changed a lot - in a few years - so...   SALIM: Tho kya kehne cha rahey ho?   ZAYA: It’s just... different now. I don’t know. I’m sorry. [Beat.] Um. Can I ask you a favour?

[SALIM looks at ZAYA.]
I was supposed to bring a change of clothes for ma, and I didn’t, so...   SALIM: Sooo...   ZAYA: Her place is just like a five minute drive from here.   SALIM: I know where it is.   ZAYA: Please.   SALIM: [Beat.] I just can’t believe this is how we’re spending our last day together.   ZAYA: I know I’m sorry.   SALIM: Zaya you keep saying sorry.   ZAYA: I know I’m sor - fuck I’ll make it up to you. I’ll make iftaari, whatever you wanna eat. Gol guppay?   SALIM: You’re gonna make gol guppay?   ZAYA: It’s not that hard. I’ve seen you do it a bunch of times. And, and we don’t have to watch another episode of Koffee With Karan. We can watch one of your feminist Bollywood movies. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.   SALIM: [Beat.] When are we getting out of here? ZAYA: As soon as I drop off the clothes, we can go.   SALIM: You sure about that?

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Speed Dating for Sperm Donors
Scene 6: Total World Domination


A brisk spring day. Helen and Paige stand outside near the arrivals gate at the airport. They blow into their hands and stamp their feet. The whoosh of airplanes can be heard.

Paige: Why is it we must meet him at the airport?

Helen: He’s on a tight schedule, I guess. He gave very specific instructions. I wasn’t about to question them.

Paige: Is he coming home with us, or—?

Helen: I’m not sure. There he is.

A man in a Russian fur hat enters.

Physicist: You are on time. This is most excellent.

Helen: Thank you so much for agreeing to meet us.

Paige: Can we, perhaps, go and sit down together—?

Physicist: No, this location is serviceable.

Helen: Okay, well why don’t you tell us a little about yourself.

Physicist: Here, I have photograph. Myself as little baby. You may keep.

Helen and Paige lean over the picture.

Helen: Awww. Very cute.

Paige: This must be your maman holding you?

Physicist: No. This is wet nurse in Mother Russia Young Physicist Training Facility.

Helen: Yes, you mentioned you were a physicist in your message. Maybe you could tell us about your work.

Physicist: Black hole physics, yes. I make superconductor simulations embedded in flat space. I propose new type of ultralight particle forming halos supported by the quantum uncertainty principle.

Helen: Wow. That sounds . . . Wow.

Helen elbows Paige.


Paige: Impressive. Very impressive.

Physicist: Quite standard, actually, compared to former research. But we dispense now with pleasantries. I go to produce required material. You will kindly have transcripts ready for my return.

Helen: Transcripts?

Physicist: You both completed university training, yes? My requirement for distribution of genetic material is that you score in top ninety-?five percentile. Equivalent of your North American A+. I am not wanting to mix my genetics with inferior specimens. Kindly produce documents to prove your intelligence level.

Helen: We don’t have any documents with us.

Physicist: Most inconvenient. My flight departs at two p.m. Ah.

He whips out a notepad and sketches.

I now pose you theorem of moderate difficulty. You have solution by the time I have sample . . . no problem.

He hands the theorem over to them and leaves.

Helen: He didn’t say anything about a test!

Paige: What does that mean, “inferior specimens”? Is he going behind a pillar?

Helen: Could it be a language problem?

Paige cranes her neck.

Paige: I think it’s a bigger problem—?he’s a crackpot!

Helen: Very smart people, I have noticed, are often quite odd. Let’s just ask him some more questions. Meantime . . . here, you better do this.

She slides the notepad paper over to Paige.

Paige: No, you.

Helen: I’m not touching it. You’re math girl.

Paige: Normal math, not black hole physics!

Helen: Try. Write something!

They throw it back and forth. The Physicist returns and Paige quickly writes down an answer.

We just wanted to ask you: Why do you want to be a donor?

Physicist: It is most efficient. Statistically speaking, I would never have time to personally impregnate all of the women who now have borne me children.

Paige: All of the women? How many are there?

Physicist: Two hundred and thirty-?nine this year.

Helen: This year alone?

Physicist: Total number of known progeny since I begin experiment is two thousand seven hundred and twenty-?one.

He reaches inside his jacket pocket, and Helen and Paige both take a step back.

But we waste time. Sample is getting cold.

Paige: Why do you do this?

Physicist: Covert distribution of superior genetic footprint. End result: total world domination. But don’t worry about that. Very cute babies. Look at photograph.

Paige: I don’t think we can be a part of your experiment.

He is examining the theorem on the notepad.

Physicist: Unfortunately, you are correct. Three? The answer you propose to theorem is three?

Paige: Oui?

He does a little bow.

Physicist: It is my disappointing duty to inform you that you are not viable subjects. I now proceed to Cincinnati to next potential vessel. Goodbye.

He gives another little bow and makes an abrupt departure.

Helen: Nice to meet you too.

Lights fade.

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