First Date

Location: The Mind of a typical 17 year-old during his first date. The stage can be made as extravagant or as simplistic as possible, with one exception: there must be some form of apparatus that serves as the "Controller". This could be as complicated as a mainframe computer with goggles and joysticks, or as simple as a Gameboy. 

Characters: Represent parts of the boy's psyche. They should dress in ways that reflect their personalities. The gender of the actor is flexible, but it should be remembered that they represent the psyche of a 17 year old male. (In the past, I have cast a female in the role of "Romeo", which had the interesting effect of making the idea of "love" more feminine. Feel free to play around with this.)

Confidence

(Pacing) Okay team, so here's the deal. We've got mere minutes before that girl out there expects us to ring the doorbell and take her out for the night of her life! So, are we ready?

Nerves

You know, if someone had just listened to me, then we wouldn't even be in this mess right now!

Romeo

Well I think it's simply wondrous that we're finally taking that fine young lady out on a date! We know how long we've liked her, after all!

Nerves

Look, Romeo, I understand how excited you've been--

Horn-dog

Actually, that was me, hehe...

Nerves

Regardless, I just think we should be careful, so that we don't have to deal with the embarrassment of

rejection!

Confidence

Oh, come on Nerves! Everything's gonna be fine! Have I ever steered us wrong?

Nerves

Um, yes, Confidence, yes you have! Do you remember last week at lunch when you told that hot girl from Biology that she should sleep with us?

Confidence

That wasn't me! That was Horn-dog over there...

Horn-dog

Guilty as charged!

Romance

Despite his shortcomings, I'm still glad Horn-dog here took the initiative to ask our fine lady out tonight! It's sooo romantic!

Horn-dog

Actually Romeo, I, err, I just asked her out so we could get in her pants...

Romeo

You're such a pig! Can't you see the romantic possibilities this night could have in store for us?

Horn-dog

I know ONE possibility that I can't wait for...haha!

Romeo

Why you disgusting...(He tries to hit Horn-dog, but Confidence steps in)

Confidence

You guys need to calm down! Nerves, I know it's not your thing, but I need you to take the controls there, walk us up to the door and ring the bell. My hands are kinda full...

Nerves

But...but...okay. I'll try... (He takes control while Confidence struggles to control the others. Nerves pushes the doorbell) I DID IT! (the others stop fighting and stare at him as he stands staring in fear) uh....uh....uh.... What do I say to her?!?!?!

Horn-dog

            (all rush to grab mic first. Horn-dog manages to get there first)

Hey, hot stuff! How about we skip dinner and go straight to dessert? (he stumbles backwards, as if slapped) Ow! Bitch!

Romeo

(taking up the controls) I'm sorry you had to hear that.  I thought I'd show you my worst first, so that from here on out, it'll only get better! (continues to mime conversation)

Horn-dog

Stupid Romeo......

Confidence

Nice save Romeo, and Horn-dog? Uh... nice try. Okay, Romeo, you've got control, take us back to the car.

Romeo

You're hand, Milady?

Nerves

Be careful, Romeo! Watch the steps! Don't catch her dress in the door of the car! OH! Don't catch yourself in the car door! Buckle up! Check your mirrors! Check--

Horn-dog

Nerves! Shut up! You're beginning to drive me crazy!

Nerves

Yeah, and you're not driving ME crazy? If it weren't for YOUR reckless actions, we wouldn't even be here right now!

Horn-dog

Yeah, and if we were playing by YOUR rules, we'd be back in our room playing World of Warcraft right now!

Nerves

At least we wouldn't be playing this dangerous game right now!

Confidence

Can you guys just NOT fight? Really?

Romeo

Pssssst....guys! I'm running out of romantic things to say! She's getting bored! Give me something interesting to talk about!

Horn-dog

Tell her how big our willy is!

Confidence and Nerves

DON'T!

Horn-dog

Ah, come on guys! Live a little! We could get laid tonight!

Romeo

(Stepping away from controls) Okay, look you swine! You can't talk like that! She is a sweet girl who deserves so much better than some horndog, and we're gonna give her better!

Horn-dog

Yeah, that's great and all, Romeo, but um, in this midst of all this romantic speech-making bull crap, did you ever happen to wonder who's driving the car, now that you aren't?

Nerves

(Screams and takes the controls) Idiot! You could've ruined us! (he talks into the mic) No...uh..no..don't, uh....worry. Everything is, uh...fine! So, do you like..World of Warcraft? (mimes conversation)

Horn-dog

Great, we're never gonna get to bed with him at the wheel! We're completely screwed....

Confidence

Oh, Come on! I have complete confidence in Nerves over there! He'll get us where we're going in his own way!

Horn-dog

You have confidence in everyone, moron. Hence your name? Duh?

Romeo

I hate to say this, Confidence, but Horn-dog's right. You really do trust in people too much. I mean, it's great and all that your confident, but you can take it to extremes...

Confidence

(unscathed) Well, I'm glad you feel confident enough to tell me that, Romeo! Good on you!

Horn-dog

Just punch him, Romeo...You know you want to!

Romeo

I am a lover, not a fighter.

Horn-dog

You're just a homo, Romeo. Admit it.

Romeo

UGGHH! How dare you! (Slaps Horn-dog across face)

Confidence

(pulls Romeo back) Gee, guys! Can't we work together? And Romeo, if you were more confident in your sexuality, it wouldn't bother you so much that you were a homosexual!

Romeo

BUT I'M NOT!!!!

Nerves

(Stepping away from the controls) Okay, guys....we're at the restaurant, but I can't handle another hour of talking to that girl! She doesn't like video games, Pokémon or TV! I'm totally out of my league with her!

Confidence

Nerves, calm down! I'll take it from here. Try to keep these two from killing each other while I'm gone, though, okay? (He takes the controls and mimes conversation)

Nerves

M-m-m-me? How can I keep them from-? Oh, man....

Horn-dog

But yeah, don't worry Romeo, I know you aren't gay....Now Nervy here on the other hand...

Nerves

W-w-w-what? I'm not g-g-g-gay!

Romeo

Don't worry, Nerves! I think it's cute that you're gay!

Nerves

But I'm not. I-I-I-I'm just not very, uh...self-confident.

Horn-dog

Oh, come now! Don't be modest! We see the way you drool after Confidence when you think no one's looking! You want him in bed with you! (Nerves starts to cry)

Romeo

Horn-dog! Is that ALL you ever think about? SEX?

Horn-dog

Um, yeah? Duh. What kind of question IS that? My name is HORN-DOG! What do you THINK I think about all day?

Confidence

(Leaving controls) Okay guys, so she's gone to the bathroom. I think we're doing rather well and.... (He notices Nerves crying, and Horn-dog and Romeo at each others' throats) Okay, that's it. I'm getting fed up with you guys! Horn-dog! Can't you get along with anyone!

Horn-dog

I can get along with that fine piece-a ass, if you let me!

Confidence

Unfortunately, It's the only choice I've got, so I'm putting you in control while I do crisis control here!

Horn-dog

            (Giggling maniacally, takes control and mimes conversation)

Confidence

Romeo, you okay now?

Romeo

As long as I don't have to deal with him I'll  be fine! Grrr... I don't know what it is, but he drives me crazy! He goes against everything I believe in!

Confidence

What can I say? It's in his character. We can't do much about that. What we can do, however, is try harder to put up with it, okay? (Romeo nods) Good. Now Nerves, what's wrong? Come on, why are you crying?

Nerves

It's nothing... Don't worry about it!

Confidence

Nerves, these tears aren't “nothing,” now come on! Tell me! What did Horn-dog say?

Nerves

He...he...he called me...gay...

Confidence

(Laughs) So?

Nerves

Oh, Confidence, I wish I could be as self-confident as you! (He hugs Confidence)

Horn-dog

(Leaves controls and sees Nerves and Confidence hugging) Told you!

Confidence

Why aren't you at the controls anymore?

Horn-dog

Oh? Oh, yeah. That. Yeah, I lost her. She ran off.

Confidence, Nerves, Romeo

WHAT!?!?!?!

Horn-dog

Yeah, I think I lost her somewhere between “I'd like to cultivate your garden” and “We could have sex in the elevator right now” (Romeo cries and runs off. Nerves goes after him. Confidence shakes his head)

Confidence

Mission failure guys, let's head home...(exits)

Horn-dog

What???? Come on guys!!! It was an honest mistake! I'll do her better next time! I mean IT! I'll do it better next time!

            (exits. LIGHTS)

Writing is Like Living and Loving

Introductions

I always find myself stumped when it comes to writing an introduction. What could I possibly say that could make a person want to read what I have to write? What do I have to write, anyway? This is obviously not my standard type of writing: I mean look at it! There are personalized subjects, there’s a sarcastic voice, and it’s all coming directly from me, as a character. This isn’t the fiction I’m used to weaving… no, this is something different. It’s life that I’m writing now.

Have you ever noticed how much life is like writing a paper? When you’re in school and preparing yourself for “the real world” (whatever that is supposed to be) it’s like you’re doing some prewriting. I’m brainstorming what I will be doing for the rest of my life while I’m sitting here writing this paper. Where will it take me? Will the words that I’m typing now ever mean more than the paper they will become?

The whole daunting task of writing is also quite similar to the fearsome process of entering into a relationship with someone. Writing is like living and loving someone. The brainstorming of a relationship is where we get to know this person, become friends with him or her, and learn about the person. The body of our relationship paper is the actual relationship part, where we go out to eat or out to concerts, and we get all lovey-dovey and whatnot. Then there’s that part that we never want to actually write, and we have a hard time doing it: conclusions, where we pretend to understand what we’ve written.

We’ll talk more about conclusions later, though. Let’s worry instead about how I’m introducing this paper. If you haven’t guessed yet, it is an essay about writing. But it’s not just about writing. You see, I made the decision to write about a specific person, and I told that person that I would. So I’m going to write about this person, but I’m also going to write about writing. I’m also going to write to that person directly, so when I’m writing to “you” you (the reader) should know that I may be talking to “you” (the reader) or “you” (my special person).

I only tell you this so that you don’t get too confused about what I’ll be doing. Without further ado, I suppose we should start.

Prewriting

Do you remember that time when we were in the parking lot? We had just gotten back from that failed attempt to see a movie. You had forgotten your wallet, so I drove us back, and we made the decision to go see it later? Do you remember that? Of course you do.

Do you remember what I told you I was going to do though? I said that I was going to write a story about you. I told you it wasn’t going to be fiction, either. I told you that I was going to write the truth about you and me and us. I told you it would be like an essay or a memoir.

You remember, then, how I told you it would work. I told you that I would set our story inside an essay. I told you that I’d write about us, but I would also be interjecting details about my past, and how I met you.

I remember telling you that I was going to mix up the chronology of our story. Do you remember why I was doing that?

“Our love is timeless and has no chronology,” you said, and I agreed.

Well this is the story that I promised you….


Rough Draft

I was in a bad place with X. He was abusive both physically and mentally. He always put me down, and whenever he got angry, he wouldn’t hesitate to beat me up. I only stuck with him so long because he was the only one I had. When I finally found the guts to dump him, my loneliness almost drove me back to him.

Then Y came along. He managed to help get back on my feet. We became quick friends, and I found myself drawn in by his smiles, and his energetic spirit. When Y and I started dating, he taught me how to stand up for myself. He helped me open up and become more accepting of the gay man that I am.

Of course, we had to fight the discrimination that comes with the whole “gay package.” People gave us dirty looks when we would go out places, and we’d occasionally be called names. But all of the things that used to bother me before didn’t bother me as long as I was with him.

Because of that time together, I’ve become a completely different person from that reclusive kid that I used to be.


Feedback

I don’t know about most people, but I know that, for me, I often get about halfway through an essay, and wonder, “Gee, I wonder how well that will come off….” It’s great to have purpose and desire when you’re writing, but sometimes the things you write become an issue. Specifically in nonfiction writing, the truth can be almost impossible to capture. Things in the writer’s past may be haunting, and devastating to talk about. The truth isn’t easy.

The audience can be a problem too. You may not be writing for the crowd that you actually want to write for. Your audience may be completely against your life and what you are writing about. Your truth may not be the same as their truth.

Consider, for example, that you’re a gay man writing about a gay relationship for a class at one of the most anti-gay colleges in the country. Yikes. Perhaps the writer might want to rethink his choice of topic as well as his strategy. In fact, I can remember one time specifically where a paper that I wrote (one with gay themes) was vandalized with the word “FAG” written across the front.

When considering the difficulties of writing for an audience, you have to look deep into yourself. The audience may be as gentle as a receptive partner listening to your story, or they may be as hostile as my parents were when I came out to them. Sure, I could turn around and write about something else, but if my heart is really into it, and I’m daring enough, then I may just be able to make it through to my reader.


Refining

You remember all those times we sat together watching Doctor Who episodes.

I know you remember the first time that I said “I love you” without actually meaning to. I had been holding back, trying to wait to actually say it so that I didn’t scare you off. I remember the first time you replied in kind.

We both remember that night where we stayed up for hours playing Halo together. We got through a few levels, but we both know we were only staying up until your roommate went to sleep so that we could be together uninterrupted on the couch.

Do you remember when I told you that I thought this would work out? I told you that I believed we could continue to be a “we” for a long time. Well I remember.

I remember that you agreed.


Clarifying

It came without warning. I wasn’t expecting it at all. I was on the way home from seeing him, even. Looking back, I can see the signs, but when Y actually called that day to tell me that we couldn’t see each other anymore, I lost it.

I could try to describe how awful it felt to me, but I’m sure that you’ve probably experienced a bad break-up before. If not, just take my word for it that like an earthquake on the heels of a train wreck.

Apparently Y came out to his dad, and things didn’t go well. He was moving to Myrtle Beach, to his mother’s house. Obviously the distance would be too much for us to deal with, he said. Too much for him to deal with.

I would spend the next couple of months trying to get over him. I ended up crawling back to X again, but then that fell through as well. There were a few hopefuls along the way, but I never really got over Y.

Editing

Wouldn’t it be great if we could just rewrite parts of our lives like we could edit our papers? I guess in some ways, life isn’t like a written piece of work. No matter what we do, we can’t go back and change the facts. Things that have happened are solidly placed in the past.

Or are they?

We can learn from our mistakes, of course. It’s not always so easy though. Sometimes we’re just doomed to repeat mistakes over and over again. The beauty of writing, though, is that it helps us understand our mistakes.

Editing is a magical thing in writing, because you can do a lot with it that you can’t do in life. For example, I can rearrange the chronological order of my work. I can mix up the pattern, or present a different ideas related to other ideas. If I didn’t like the way that I was writing before, I can change it.


Writer’s Block

It was the first week of Winter break when I saw Y again. He had moved back to Virginia and was renting a place with a friend. He invited me to a Christmas party that he was hosting. There would be drinking, music, and fun.

I went, of course. I’m not really a party guy or a drinker—though I did try a few drinks that night—but I definitely had hopes that we might be able to get back together. The party was a bust from the get-go, though. Not very many people showed up. When an hour had dragged by I was bored. The worst part was I could already tell that Y was only interested in using me as a party-filler. He had no intention of actually getting back together with me. But my self-esteem was so low that I deleted that draft of my life.

Then he showed up. Z.

I did not want him there. It was obvious from the start that there was something going on between Z and Y. I was ready to get out of there, but I was already a few drinks in at this point, so I wasn’t going anywhere.

So instead, we played Kings. I sat there are enjoyed watching Z get sick after only a few drinks. I enjoyed watching Y make a fool of himself.

And then I realized I was drunk, too.


Finishing Touches

Do you remember that time, Z, that I was drunk at Y’s party? You kept me from taking my self-loathing to too far a level. You were there for me when I needed someone. And you didn’t even know me.

Do you remember passing out on the couch with me? It wasn’t even because of the alcohol. It was because we stayed up all night just talking to each other. I remember how bitter I felt during that entire party. I remember wanting you dead. I remember telling you all of this, too. Do you remember how you felt when I told you? I remember you asking me out on our first date. I’ve remembered every date since then, too.

You may not have been the one that I was after that night. You certainly weren’t what I was expecting. But you ended up being the person that I needed.


Conclusions

Conclusions suck. They’re hard to write. What can you really say to end a piece that leaves the work tied up neatly? You don’t want to just repeat the theme. You don’t want to summarize, but you also don’t want to introduce an entirely new argument.

The conclusion of a relationship can also be hard to deal with. A lot of the time, we just don’t want things to end. Sometimes they end in ways that we aren’t expecting, as well. But that’s just the funny thing about expectations: reality will trump them every time. I never would’ve guessed that I would end up with Z, and not Y, but that’s the way these things work.

Z is nice to me in a way that I’ve never experienced before. He’s gentle and thoughtful; exciting but occasionally reserved—he gives me space in which I can be myself, but is always there when I need him. In a way, meeting Z is a conclusion: my relationship with him means no more abuse and no more feeling alone. We’re both out and proud, but we’re not loud about it: our families accept us being together, even if they don’t want to see us that way; they see that we’re happy though, and that’s all that matters.

Reality trumps expectations every day. Even in writing. Sometimes you set out to write one thing, but the completed result may turn out to be completely different. This, of course, isn’t necessarily bad, and often it’s actually a good thing. I never expected to find someone quite like the man I’m with, but I did, and it has made all the difference.