So. About me. I was born two days ago. I’m learning that people may want to know this, about me, why I don’t know things yet.

(beat)

Things are just great here. Have you noticed? They’re great. Everything is so strange and great. I need more words. I don’t have enough words yet. Wow. You know? Words are great.

(beat)

So that’s me. I hope you like it. Being beautiful. Being here. I hope you like it a lot. I was dead when I came out. That was two days ago. Did I tell you that? I forget if I told you that. I’m just having a look around. I just want to see it—what I should have had.

(shift—darker)

Like you. I should have had you. Your faces. Your hands. Your words.

(beat)

Don’t feel bad or anything.

(listens for something, then stills as he hears it)

Oh. That’s my mother. She’s crying again.

She’s very far away. I’m not sure where. I hear her in here.

(touches his stomach, where the umbilical cord was)

I don’t know what she looks like. If you see her anywhere, let me know.

I’d better go. I’m getting stiffer. I don’t have much time.

CONSTANTINOPLE leaves.

Scene Two

A seedy hotel. Elegance faded, dilapidated, a grime that sort of shines.

DOLORES sits on a pool table, cue in hand.

She is dressed in hardcore dominatrix gear.

She plays pool against herself.

DOLORES Your shot.

(she takes it, misses)

Ooh. Suckerrrr, my shot.

(she takes it, misses—as her opponent)

Pathetic.

(annoyed)

Fuck you.

(annoyed)

What did you say to me?

DOLORES checks her watch.

Then she moves the pool ball, sets up for a shot.

Then, spoiling for a fight with herself:

DOLORES You can’t do that!

—Watch me.

Put that back.

—Make me.

Girrrrl do not make me take out my combat boots.

A WOMAN comes in, out of breath, in a hurry.

She’s wearing formal work clothes. She wears a carnival
mask, and we can’t see her face.

WOMAN I’m sorry I’m late, I tried to call but I realized I don’t have a number for you and—

DOLORES You’re five minutes overdue. You’re five minutes ripe. You’re a woman?

WOMAN The traffic was crazy. I’m sorry.

DOLORES You are a woman.

WOMAN … Yes.

DOLORES That’s weird.

I usually get men.

WOMAN I’m not a man.

DOLORES Yeah, well, I’m aware of that. Now.

You gonna use that mask for Halloween?

WOMAN

(blurts out)

I’m a failure.

DOLORES Yeah, I’m sure, but that wasn’t what I asked.

Halloween, yes or no?

WOMAN I’m sorry?

DOLORES Whatever, stop talking. Sit down.

The WOMAN sits on the edge of the pool table nervously. She checks over her shoulder.