The Red Line (draft 1)

Scene I: Silver Spring metro station. She is an attractive brunette, very dark hair, dark complexion and very sharp blue eyes. It is Saturday morning and she is dressed in sweatpants and a long sleeve shirt. Train arrives heading into the city and He runs up the escalator and just manages to get into the same car as She. He’s carry a football and a gym bag.

He sees her, looks away, but then stops, turns and goes to sit next to her.

He: How was your night?

She: (startled and blushing) It was okay. (laughs) and how was your night?

He: I think I’m still a little drunk.

She: (smiles) Who are you?

He: I am your metro soulmate. I see you everyday. You work somewhere down by Metro Center. You go to a dance class on Sunday mornings. You pack your lunch, but I think you go out to lunch on Fridays.

She: I do.

He: I know this because you never bring anything with you to work on Friday.

She: What else?

He: I think you live alone. Maybe you have a cat. And you went out last night.

She: I do have a cat. You went out last night too. I saw you and your roommate?

He: Yep, my roommate.

She: I see you a lot.

He: oh yeah?

She: Yes. You like to do the crossword puzzle on the train. You have casual Fridays and you are in a football and softball league.

He: How come we have never talked?

She: Because we live in the North East. We’re private people with private lives. It’s intrusive.

He: Lonely. (Pause) sorry, am I being intrusive?

She: Yes, but I like it.

Pause

She: Going to play football?

He: Yep. I love it. Guess you hafta to wake up this early Sunday morning.

She: I’m going to a dance class.

He: What kind of dance?

She: Hip Hop

He: Nelly?

She: Nelly, Busta, Mariah, …hip hop

He: (big smile) That’s great.

She: What?

He: What do you mean, ‘what?’

She: You were going to say something.

He: I was just thinking.

She: and??

He: It just surprises me. I pictured you doing jazz, latin…even ballet or something. I just didn’t expect Hip Hop.

She: Well, I like it.

He: It’s the notions and stories we make up in our heads to pass the time. Like that old guy sitting up there. I picture him going to church downtown. Maybe going to meet friends for a coffee in Dupont afterwards.

She: I think he is going to brunch. He looks like a brunch type guy.

He: What does a brunch type guy look like?

She: I don’t know. Hungry.

He: (laughs) I didn’t think you would be so talkative either.

She: (laughs) You make a lot of assumptions.

He: I do? Yeah, I do.

She: I assumed you were uninteresting.

He: Why is that?

She: You play in sport leagues…so I assumed asshole jock. You wear a lot of blue stripped shirts, carry a shoulder bag and listen to you MP3 player like every other yuppie in DC; and I assume you go out and get wasted in Adam’s Morgan and go to Pizza Mart afterwards.

He: I do. That’s pathetic. I’m a walking cliché.

She: Now, I think you are interesting.

He: What made you changed your mind?

She: This thing we’re doing.

He: Talking?

She: Yes, it’s interesting.

He: I like to think of it as my social experiment.

She: So I’m just some experiment?

He: I mean…

She: (laughs) I’m just playing.

He: Don’t you think it’s ridiculous sometimes. We have seen each other every day for about half-an-hour or more a day for the past year and have never talked.

She: Like we’re robots on automatic.

He: Like ants marching along.

(Pause)

She: This is my stop

He: I know

She (laughs): I’ll see you Monday morning, Metro soul mate.

She gets off at Gallery Place