Thursday, January 27, 2011

SAM- Some Girls (Neil LaBute)

No, I overheard it once, just a mention of it this one time in the store... you know, where you almost ended up. In your vision. I was in there, dropping off lunch for my husband and I was looking at something, I don't remember what now, some new thing on an end cap display -- cookies or whatever -- and I hear a voice, a women's voice that I recognize, this blast from the past. It's your mother. Your mom, standing in the juice aisle and talking to somebody, a neighbor lady or from church, and they're going on about the good ol' days, like women do, and somehow they get on the subject of proms. Of big dances. Maybe because her daughter -- not your mom, obviously, but the other woman -- her last kid is getting ready for hers, and off they go, chatting about this and that. I don't mean to, but I keep standing there and listening and, boy, do I get an earful! About you, and us, and, well, lots. Lots of stuff. And part of that "stuff" is how nice you looked -- how well you "cleaned up," she called it -- for your big night. Prom night. And imagine me, standing there next to this Hearty Fudge Crunch, and I'm thinking, "What big night? I didn't have a big night. We didn't go to any prom." But of course she wasn't talking about me. Or us. No, this was all about you. The night she was referring to was all about you. And her... some girl. (Beat.) She also said you don't call home enough. Your mom did.

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