By: Daniel Minsaul

Characters: Q and T

SCENE ONE
(Two men or women sitting at a table.)

Q: Do you hate me?

T: (sardonically) Yes, absolutely.

Q: Don’t kid with me. I’m being serious.

T: As am I.

Q: Why do you hate me?

T: Because you ask me questions like, ‘Do you hate me?’ Who does that?

Q: That seems like an illegitimate reason.

T: It’s my reason.

Q: Then what can I do to make you like me?

T: Stop asking questions like that.

Q: But I have the anxiety.

T: Then drink.

Q: But then I’ll be an alcoholic.

T: There’s nothing wrong with that.

Q: Yes there is.

T: Says who?

Q: (pauses) I dunno, Nancy Reagan.

T: Who the fuck cares what Nancy Reagan says?

Q: She was our first lady.

T: So?

Q: We should show her a modicum of respect.

T: No, just because she was something at sometime doesn’t mean anything.

Q: You’re yelling is starting to give me anxiety.

T: Then get a prescription for Xanax…or Valium.

Q: But I saw a special on Dateline about how bad they are for you.

T: Then meditate.

Q: I have ADHD.

(T gets up from the table and starts pacing.)

T: So what do you want from me? You can’t drink, take pills, or perform any decompressing acts without something going wrong. You’re a hopeless waste of anxious-riddled putty and there’s nothing you can do about it.

Q: Are you still my friend?

T: I’m not usually friends with self-deprecating gelatinous invertebrates who constantly ask me if I hate them or not.

Q: Will you make an exception for me?

T: I guess.

Q: Good, because I need someone to go on a hike with me.

T: A hike? I didn’t sign up for a hike.

Q: But you’re my friend. I thought you might enjoy spending a few hours with one another while we walk through a forest.

T: No.

Q: But there’s fresh air…

T: No.

Q: …smores…

T: No.

Q: …the natural beauty of the outdoors…

T: No.

Q: …exploration…

T: No.

Q: …friendship in every step…

T: No!

Q: Then what are we doing? How…how can I be of service to you?

T: Don’t.

Q: But I need to be. The only way to solve my crippling mental paralysis is by offering myself to do something for others.

T: Why can’t you just be happy?

Q: I can’t. That’s not how I operate.

T: I’m still not going on a hike with you.

Q: Then how about playing tennis on a Wednesday afternoon together?

T: That’s oddly specific, but still, no.

Q: Movies?

T: Don’t list things off again.

Q: We can play Scrabble or Yahtzee or maybe Call of Duty?

T: Let’s just go to a bar.

Q: But…the drinking.

T: Don’t you dare mention the drinking thing again.

Q: Fine.

T: So, we’re going drinking?

Q: (defeated) Yeah, alright.

T: Great.

            (T and Q begin to walk off stage.)

T: Wait, why was it so easy to convince you to come drinking with me?

Q: I just needed somewhere for us to go so we could complete the suicide pact we made in the 10th grade.

            (END.)