Without Tongue: 10 Minute Play

Produced: Al Doblar La Esquina / Around The Block

Fifth Annual Raymond J. Flores Short Play Series: (July 2008) and

Metro Works Stage and Screen, Abingdon Theatre Complex (May 15–17 2003)

[MONTERO (light skinned, handsome, well built Latino male) and ADRIANA (brown skinned Dominican hipster) are sitting inside a hip Indian restaurant in the East Village, NYC. It’s ADRIANA’S 22nd birthday. MONTERO is anxious and nervously folding and unfolding the cloth napkin on his lap. Dinner has been served. ADRIANA looks around to see if she knows anyone, sitting up straight, looking fabulous and eager. A waiter hovers nearby. (Note: MONTERO’S Spanish is from Spain and ADRIANA’S is Dominican.)]

MONTERO: I have something to tell you.

ADRIANA: Not with that face. It’s my birthday and I don’t want to be serious right now. Try the banana pakoras, with the green sauce. They remind me of Mami’s reqaitos.

MONTERO: If I don’t tell you now I might never tell you.

ADRIANA: If you keep pushing in your eyebrows like that you’ll destroy your acting career. Can you please stop looking at me that way? Try the mullagatony. I love it here. Don’t you?

MONTERO: I’ve been meaning to talk to you about this for a while.

ADRIANA: I can’t believe that today I’m 22. Do you know what that means? That next year I’ll be in my mid-twenties. I’ll be able to wear red lipstick and not feel like I’m trying to prove something. My face will have earned the drama.

MONTERO: With what you’ve been through in life, you can do whatever it is that you want.

ADRIANA: Do you really think so?

[ADRIANA checks her reflection on the large copper fruit bowl by their table.]

MONTERO: You know how I feel about you? Right?

ADRIANA: No I don’t, tell me again.

[She puts her fingers on his lips.]

But before you say anything . . . [to waiter] Can you get us some water?

[WAITER nods and turns away to fetch the water.]

MONTERO: You’re one of the most amazing women I’ve ever met.

ADRIANA: If I’m so great why haven’t you tried to kiss me? Not once. All these years we’ve known each other and I’ve been throwing you indirectas . . .

MONTERO: . . . or not so indirectas.

ADRIANA: What are you trying to say?

MONTERO: When you undress in front of me and slip into something more comfortable, believe me honey, that’s not an indirecta. That’s a full come and fuck me now or else.

ADRIANA: You don’t have to be so loud. Can’t you see people are watching us now? You say fuck and the whole world wants to listen. I wonder if I said fuck every other sentence at work, maybe the principle at my school would pay attention to me

[ADRIANA looks around for WAITER.]

Where’s that water?

MONTERO: Paciencia. He’ll be here in a minute.

ADRIANA: Fuck! I want some water.

[WAITER appears at the table.]

You see what I’m saying. Vulgarity is the only thing that gets us what we want. It’s a shame.

[MONTERO grabs ADRIANA’S hand from across the table. He's trying to get her undivided attention.]

MONTERO: I really want to tell you something.

[ADRIANA looks at him and laughs.]

Why are you laughing? I’m trying to be serious here.

ADRIANA: Why does anyone laugh? Laughter is one of those things. It’s what we utter when we’re exposed, when we feel uncomfortable. And that look you have as if you could read my mind is weirding me out.

MONTERO: I need you to listen.

[ADRIANA shoves a piece of paratha bread in MONTERO’S mouth.]

ADRIANA: Can you believe I’m 22 today. Feels like yesterday I turned 21. Remember that night we went to the Bahamas for a day for 99 dollars. And we were sitting on the beach and we made a pact that if we weren’t married to anyone...