Lose Your Lunch
a semi-biographical short play
CHARACTERS
MIKE
SERRA
IAN
LITTLE GIRL
LOUDSPEAKER
(A table outside of Johnny Rockets restaurant in Six Flags amusement park. A trashcan sits far stage right. MIKE and SERRA are seated.)
MIKE. Do you see that?
SERRA. What?
MIKE. Over there.
(Gesturing stage left) The table with the little girl and her grandma.
SERRA. So?
MIKE. The girl’s mom is coming back, and she’s got an entire pizza from Johnny Rockets in tow.
(He gives SERRA an ecstatic glance, but she is unimpressed and confused.)
MIKE. Don’t you get it? There’s no way that feebly-stomached trio can possibly have the appetite necessary to take down that whole pizza!
SERRA. First – take it from me: you underestimate the eating capability of a small girl. And second – what do you care if that estrogen-saturated family can’t finish their dinner?
MIKE. Do I have to spell it out for you? I’m hungry, they have a pizza, and there
will be leftovers. I swear to you right now, I’m going to get a slice of that pizza if it’s the last thing I do.
SERRA. Did I ever tell you you’re a lunatic?
MIKE. Look! Mom just got up and she’s walking away. One less mouth to feed and one more slice for me.
(IAN enters with a good pound of food in tow. He joins MIKE and SERRA at their table.)
IAN. I love Johnny Rockets, and I love food.
SERRA. How much did you get?
IAN. Burger. French Fries. Onion Rings. Hot dog. Milkshake.
SERRA.
(to MIKE) No pizza.
IAN. Pizza?
SERRA. This kid’s got it into his crazy head that he’s going to take some of the pizza from that table over there, with the grandma and the girl.
IAN. Why don’t you two just go buy some food for yourselves?
SERRA. I ate before we came.
MIKE. I didn’t bring any money.
IAN. Don’t worry about it. I’ll spot you.
MIKE. No thank you!
IAN. Alright, alright. No need to get upset. If you’re tight on cash right now, I’ll tell ya what – you don’t have to pay me back.
MIKE. You simpleton. It’s not the money; it’s the principle! I paid my fifty dollars to get into this godforsaken park, and for what? To ride a rollercoaster? To see a tiger from twenty feet away behind a fence? To come to Johnny Rockets and pay another ten, twenty – how much did you pay for all of that?
IAN. Thirty-five bucks.
MIKE. – Thirty-five bucks to get the sustenance which, by the way, I need to live long enough to shell out even more money to the Six Flag Corporation! For God’s sake, man, I’m not going to let them squeeze another cent out of me!
SERRA. I didn’t know you felt so strongly about it.
MIKE.
(cooling down, to IAN) Why are you eating so much, anyways?
IAN. Ever since I first came here as a nipper, it’s been my dream to throw up on Kingda Ka. During the biggest drop, right when they take your picture. Can you imagine?
SERRA. Unfortunately, yes. Ugh, why do I spend my time with men?
IAN.
(to MIKE) Speaking of men, did you get a beat on that tall drink of water pulling a chair up to your pizza?
MIKE. Oh no. I was afraid of this. Looks like mommy is also wifey, and dear hubby’s got his hungry eyes all over my meal.
SERRA. Yeah, but look at all the accoutrements – they’ve got 64 ounce sodas, bread sticks, and a big old Cesar salad.
IAN. Y’know, I think you’re actually starting to enjoy this stupid little operation. You just ridiculed me a minute ago for my dumb dream, and here you are reconnoitering to help this sucker realize his equally dumb dream.
SERRA. The point is, maybe they’ll fill up on those appetizers and there’ll still be a leftover piece.
MIKE. I’m counting on it.
IAN. What are we doing next, if you don’t mind my asking a non-pizza-related question?
SERRA. I’m not sure. Let’s check the itinerary.
(SERRA whips out a map of the park.)
SERRA. Hm… well, Kingda Ka’s the closest ride.
IAN. Nope. Not yet. You can’t rush perfection – I need this food to be half digested when we rock the Ka so I have the most noxious, visceral puke I can muster for that souvenir photograph. Besides, Kingda Ka is by far the best thing this park has to offer; nothing can compete. We should save the best for last, no?
MIKE. What if it rains before we get a chance to ride it because you put it off for so long?
IAN. It won’t. Besides, you can’t live your life in constant fear that it might rain. Shouldn’t you be watching your pizza?
MIKE. I’ve been.
IAN. So you’re just ignoring your friends over here?
MIKE. I can talk to you two and scope out this family at the same time. What do you take me for? Things are looking good. Do you want an update on what’s gone down since you last checked in?
SERRA. Like we have a choice.
MIKE. Everybody ate one slice, but their copious side dishes have slowed their eating to a crawl. There are three slices left and Pa’s going for one of them. Yep. And… nobody else is making a move on the other two. Looks like there’ll be two sets of vomit in our Kingda Ka photo.
SERRA. Make that three. When you two start throwing up I’m going to get so disgusted that I’ll throw up.
IAN. This is going to be the greatest picture of all time.
SERRA. Assuming they don’t delete it. You do know there’s somebody scanning all of those pictures so as to remove any offensive shots, right?
IAN. Jeez! You’re just as bad as him! First we’re supposed to plan our whole day around a chance of rain, and now you want us to hold in our puke just in case we get censored. You two really need to stop worrying and just live your lives on your own terms. It’s not going to rain and we will be leaving today with a giant, overpriced print of us hurling all over that drop!
MIKE. Our puke will probably blend in – Kingda Ka is made of green steel.
SERRA. Y’know, you guys are reminding me of when I first started running on a regular basis. For weeks prior I kept saying to myself, “Hey Serra, we’re going to start running real soon.” But then I’d just sit around and eat Teriyaki chicken and get fatter and more out of shape. Then one day, I tried to pick up my guinea pig so I could clean his cage – when I put him down, I was out of breath I was so out of shape. That’s when I realized that it was time to start exercising. I’ve been running everyday since. But what if I never tried to clean that cage? Would I have ever realized how lazy and slovenly I’d grown? I would probably be sitting at home eating a fiesta meatloaf all by myself this very –
MIKE. NO!
IAN. What happened?
MIKE. Mom and Grams are looking at the remaining two slices, with intention. I’m done for. I never thought they’d be able to eat all that salad and still be hungry.
(MIKE covers his eyes. IAN and SERRA watch the pizza table in silence for a tense moment)
IAN. You’re never going to believe this, but they’re cutting one slice down the middle!
MIKE. If you’re lying to me, I’m going to punch you as hard as I can in the collarbone.
IAN. This is legit, I swear.
(MIKE uncovers his eyes to check on the pizza table.)
MIKE. Oh, thank God! Those two are sure to be full after this, Dad would be eating the other slice right now if he wanted it, and the little girl is currently playing with her six dollar Wonder Woman cape. That slice has my name written all over it. (To SERRA) So, what were you saying again?
IAN. Yeah, could you recap that? I wasn’t really paying attention either.
SERRA. Never mind.
MIKE. Oh yes. They’re done. Everybody is done eating, and they’re playing Eat It Air Hockey.
SERRA. “Eat It Air Hockey?”
MIKE. It’s when nobody wants anymore to eat, but they all feel bad about letting it go to waste. So everybody at the dinner table shoots a glance at their meal compatriots and then down at the leftovers. It’s a win-win: nobody has to eat past being full, and yet everybody can see your disapproval at the inevitable trashing of the food. It’s dinner’s conclusion in every household that lacks a glutton but possesses an overzealous cook. Eat It Air Hockey.
SERRA. Of course.
MIKE. It’s just a matter of time until they get up to throw that slice out. Now we play the waiting game.
SERRA. What exactly do you plan to do?
MIKE. My plan is quite elementary, really. The nearest trashcan is right over there. Ergo, whoever gets stuck with trash duty will be forced to walk directly past us to dispatch the garbage. En route, I just happen to notice that there’s some pizza left, and I offer to take it off their hands, effectively shortening their trip by eliminating the need to walk the remaining six steps to the trash. Everybody wins!
IAN. Why don’t you just walk over there and ask if you can have it?
MIKE. You buffoon! Then they’ll know I’ve been watching them this whole time. I don’t want to creep them out.
SERRA. Why not? You’ve already creeped me out with this whole ordeal.
MIKE. Wait. Oh no. No. No. No!
(MIKE smashes his head down onto the table and lays it there, face down.)
SERRA. Huh?
IAN. It looks as if the little girl just took the pizza, cardboard tray and all, and smashed it up into a ball.
(Enter LITTLE GIRL stage left. She walks past, approaching trashcan.)
IAN.
(whisper, to MIKE) What are you waiting for?! Make your move! It’s just a little smushed, it tastes the same.
MIKE.
(whisper, to IAN) Of course it’s still delicious! You don’t think I know that?! But one thing I do know is that, nine times out of ten, young parents frown upon teenage boys approaching their preadolescent daughters in the middle of amusement parks! I can’t do it!
(LITTLE GIRL throws the trash away and exits stage left. MIKE just sits and stares blankly.)
SERRA. Are you going to be okay?
IAN. Bud?
(Snaps in front of MIKE’s face, to no avail.)
SERRA. Who knew one slice of pizza could be so devastating.
MIKE. You know? I think there’s a lesson in all of this.
SERRA. Oh yeah? And what’s that? Don’t eat before you ride Kingda Ka?
IAN. Bring money to a theme park?
SERRA. Ask the little girl for the pizza next time?
IAN. Disguise yourself as a tiger to get a free steak at the drive-through safari?
SERRA. Eating out of the trash isn’t without dignity?
MIKE. No. No. None of that. Something about… not letting life pass you by. Acting before it’s too late. And that you’re responsible for your own happiness – or misery, in my case.
(beat)
IAN. It’s just a pizza! I’ll give you the money; go order your own!
MIKE. And undermine the beautiful life lesson we’ve learned here today? Not a chance.
IAN. You’re insane.
SERRA. Let’s go ride Kingda Ka, huh?
IAN. What’s the rush? We’ve got all day.
MIKE. Did anybody else feel that? I think it’s starting to rain.
(It starts to rain.)
LOUDSPEAKER.
(offstage) Attention all Six Flags visitors. We’re sorry to report that Kingda Ka, the largest roller coaster in the tri-state area, will be closed for the remainder of the day due to unforeseen weather complications. Please come back to ride it soon.
SERRA. Don’t fret. They’ll probably give us a refund or a rain check or something.
LOUDSPEAKER.
(offstage) There will be neither refunds nor rain checks issued. Thank you for your continued patronage and enjoy the rest of your Six Flags day!
IAN. Why didn’t you guys rush?!
MIKE. See? This is what I’m talking about.
IAN. Oh God. It feels like those onion rings aren’t getting along too well with my stomach.
SERRA. Don’t tell me –
IAN. I’m going to puke!
(Runs off stage right and vomits.)
SERRA. I can’t say I feel bad for him.
IAN.
(offstage, sickly) Someone get a camera! If you frame it right, we can get Kingda Ka in the background!
MIKE. Now there’s one guy who knows how to make his own happiness. I envy him.
SERRA. I need new friends.
(Exeunt)