Distressway

By Kim Roberts

A couple, in their twenties. Can be any racce or ethnicity, but they must be able to sing. The stage is empty except for a car seat. MAN and WOMAN are sitting side by side; MAN is driving. MAN starts singing “I Can See Clearly Now” by Johnny Nash.

MAN

“I can see clearly now, my brain is gone...”

WOMAN

Stop, now.

MAN

“I can see all orchestras in my day...”

WOMAN

Why can’t you ever sing the right words?

MAN

I have trouble with the right words.

WOMAN

Don’t I know it.

MAN

Continues to hum the next line.

WOMAN

Hey--this is serious. Don’t try to change the subject.

MAN

What?

WOMAN

No more joking with my mother. No more getting me into trouble. I need you to promise.

MAN

Should I take the expressway?

WOMAN

Definitely. Much faster.

MAN

Remember when we lived in Boston, and I used to call it the Distressway?

WOMAN

And Storrow Drive was Sorrow Drive.

MAN

“Gone are the spark plugs I’ve been dreaming of...”

 

WOMAN

I still haven’t heard you promise me.

MAN

”Gonna be a bright, bright, bright punch-me-out day.”

WOMAN

I’m waiting...

MAN

Yeah, yeah, I hear you. Don’t get you in trouble.

WOMAN

I mean it. Stop singing for one minute and listen to me.

MAN

You know I like to sing when I drive.

WOMAN

Yes. Believe me I know. Every time I drive your car, when I start it up, the radio’s so incredibly loud I nearly get blasted out of the driver’s seat. It’s a miracle you still have eardrums.

MAN

Is this where I turn? The next light?

WOMAN

No, no, it’s one more light. You’ll see the sign. I can’t believe you’re asking.

Pause.

MAN

Okay, here come the signs. This exit? Do we want to go east or west?

WOMAN

Go west, young man.

MAN

Gotcha.

WOMAN

Listen, how many million times have you driven to my mother’s house? And you ask every single time. This is some sort of mental block.

MAN makes motions like turning a steering wheel. They both lean slightly to one side, as if leaning into the curve.

MAN

It’s just that one part. Where we turn. It’s about the road, not your mother.

WOMAN

It’s about my mother.

MAN

You know this is where I always get lost.

WOMAN

It’s a mental block. Look, we’re going to be there in ten minutes. Let’s talk about the subjects to avoid, okay? Are you listening?

MAN

As a kid, I always thought the weatherman was warning us about the “Wind Shield Factor.”

WOMAN

The what?

MAN

The Wind Shield Factor. You know, the winter winds?
(beat)
I also had trouble with the word “asphyxiated.” I thought we couldn’t take the dog into the city on a hot summer day and have it wait in the car for us because there was danger of it becoming “sophisticated.”

WOMAN

Stop joking!

MAN

I’m just saying...

WOMAN

I really wish you’d be more careful with your words.

MAN

Don’t get all serious on me.

WOMAN

Please.

MAN

What? What are you getting at?

WOMAN

Well, the last time at my mother’s.

MAN

Here we go.

WOMAN

It’s been two months now, and every time we speak, she brings it up. It’s no fun for me. I keep saying you meant it as a joke.

MAN

She’s never understood my humor.

WOMAN

The thing is, it wasn’t a joke.

MAN

Sure it was.

WOMAN

No. The more I think about it, the more I’m convinced. How could you tell her I was bad with money? You know it’s a sensitive spot. You told her I was irresponsible.

MAN

I did not.

WOMAN

You said--

MAN

She was complimenting your shoes. This was not a discussion about world peace or the cure for cancer.

WOMAN

And you said, God forbid I should pass up a nice pair of shoes.

MAN

Right! Shoes, for God’s sake!

WOMAN

You told me mother that money flowed through my fingers like water.

MAN

I was just joking.

WOMAN

But you know how my mother would interpret that. You know my mother.

MAN

Money flows through everyone’s fingers. It’s the nature of money.

WOMAN

She thinks I’m going bankrupt any second.

MAN

We’re certainly on the Distressway now.

WOMAN

What the hell does that mean?

MAN

Why do we have to rehash this again and again?

WOMAN

Because since that little conversation, I have to sit through a weekly discussion where my mother asks about our finances.

MAN

How do we always get to this place? I feel like we travel in circles.

WOMAN

My mother thinks I can’t take care of myself. You know this. She’s always said I was “flighty. You know damn well there are certain words that set her off.

MAN

Always the same argument. You could almost set your watch by it.

WOMAN

Because you’re not careful about how you say things. This is about saying the right words.

MAN

I have trouble with the right words.

Pause.

WOMAN

Who am I to disagree?

MAN

What did you say?

WOMAN

How do you usually say it? “Here am I on bended knee?”

MAN

Does this mean you’re not mad at me after all?

WOMAN

Maybe. If you can say the right thing. For once in your life. Can you keep your big mouth shur this evening and be nice to my mother?

She mouths his answer at the same time he says it, making a face. MAN doesn’t see, because he’s facing ahead, toward the road.

MAN

I’ll be good.

WOMAN

Promise me. Because you think you’re being cute, but I have to pay for it.

MAN

I promise. Scout’s honor.

Singing “Sweet Dreams” by the Eurythmics

“Sweet cream is made of cheese
Here am I on bended knee…”

WOMAN

“I traveled the world in generic jeans...”

MAN

In falsetto
“Oooo-oooo-oooh...”
Pause.

WOMAN

No talk about money this time. No “jokes” about playing the lottery. No off-the-cuff remarks about my “extensive wardrobe.” Understand?

She mouths along with him again.

MAN

I’ll be good.

WOMAN
For me. I know you can do it.

MAN
Have a little confidence in me.

WOMAN

That’s the problem. I’m a realist. As you pointed out, it’s very likely we will travel this way again.

MAN

On the Distressway?

WOMAN

Or on Sorrow Drive.

 

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