Some Day, Any Day, No Day

Setting: The time is 4 o’clock, a pleasant Saturday afternoon of 67 degrees. Wind blowing gently. A girl and a boy are jogging on the trail of Trinity Park in Ft Worth, Texas. The track is circular, the length uncertain, the concrete hard underfoot, the grass dying slowly, yet a new season waits. The trees surrounding are becoming barren, leaves floating down resignedly. It is autumn. The sun is beginning to set, creeping ever so slightly down the buildings’ skyline. The two are running at a fast pace. She stares in the distance to see how far the path might go- he looks to the ground, watching each individual step at a time.

(They pause at the water fountain to take a drink. They stand under the shade of a large tree. Panting… she looks up at him.)

HER: You know, someday I’d like to have a yard. With a garden. And flowers planted in it. Flowers that I get to choose and plant. And a big old Oak to shade the front of the house.

HIM: Gardens just seem like a huge pain in the ass to me. You gotta plant them, and water them, and tend to them. Seems like a waste of my time. Might as well hire someone to do it all.

HER: See, but that’s half the fun of it, the satisfaction of knowing I planted that beautiful tree.

(She points to the sky, as if pointing to her own imaginary tree).

HER: It’s all in the art of it…the beauty of it, you know?

HIM: Eh, maybe. I would be content with one unimpressive tree in my yard, planted by some random man I hired. Just to say I had one, I guess.

HER: Oh whatever, you know you will want a nice yard once you grow up and have a wife and kids and a home. Every man does.

You’re just a college kid. You’ll change when you’re ready..... someday.

HIM: Maybe so. But I’ve got another ten years of partying my ass off until all of that.

(She looks up at him, eyes in amazement…not believing his wild claim).

HER: Ten years! Really? That means you’ll turn into a lonely thirty-year old bachelor that works and drinks booze. Ew.

HIM: Yep. I’ll be livin’ the dream until the dream dies. Once it dies, I guess I’ll find myself a woman.

HER: Gah, you’re full of shit. I’ll bet you money you’ll be married before then.

(He laughs, incredulously. He looks at her as if she’s a fool, but he knows she isn’t).

HIM: Oh what makes you say that? At the rate I’m going, I’ll be single until I’m thirty-five. I haven’t dated anybody since Laura, and that was three years ago… Gah, I forgot about her.

HER: You forgot about her? Ya’ll dated for like two years. You jackass!

(He puffs up, getting a sly grin on his sweaty face.)

HIM: It’s called being a man…you should try it sometime.

He takes off running, expecting her to catch up with him…his head pointing forward, laughing as he always did after making a crude joke. She takes one last sip of water, rolls her eyes, and hurries to catch up from behind.

HER: You know, sometimes being a gentleman in life isn’t all bad…you should try it sometime.

HIM: Funny…and what do you mean? I am too a gentleman.

HER: I dunno. You just act unfeeling toward every little thing. It annoys the hell out of me. Why don’t you admit to FEELing something for once in your life? You know it’s really quite liberating once you try it.

HIM: I FEEL lots of things…

(He snickers to himself, patting his own pride on the back.)

HER: God, you’re a sick person!

(She runs ahead of him, strutting off in her bitchy way, not stopping to look back).

HIM: Hey! Wait up. Hold on.

(She runs faster, gaining a few hundred yards on him. He chases after her, breathing heavily, yet ready for the pursuit and competition she presents to him. He approaches her from behind, still panting.)

HIM: Why do you always gotta be so sensitive? It was just a joke, come on.

HER: Well, you’re full of jokes...and shit. And I’m tired of it.

HIM: Since when do you take offense to my jokes? Always thought you laughed at ‘em…Or at least thought they were funny.

HER: You can’t admit to anything. EVER!

HIM: What the hell are you talking about? Did I do something wrong that I don’t know about it?

HER: No, it’s nothing. Never mind, you wouldn’t care anyways. Just come on. We’ve got to finish this last mile. It’s getting dark. Hurry up!

HIM: No, I’m not going anywhere until you tell me why you’re all pissed at me, when I didn’t even do anything.

HER: All right, you want to know the truth? Want me to be honest? Because I am going to be, finally. I think you are a huge jackass. I also think you don’t give two shits about me or anyone else for that matter. You’re insecure, arrogant, and your jokes aren’t funny. Also, I hate your shoes and your stupid sunglasses you always wear when you drive. One more thing: Don’t expect me to ever take you seriously when you are drunk ever again you asshole.

HIM: Holy shit, what did I do? I’m sorry, please remind me. Look, I don’t remember! It must have been a long time ago. Wait; did I say something to you while I was drunk last night or something? It was a wild night last night. I don’t normally get that drunk off my ass.

(Her eyes begin to well up, tears streaming down her rosy cheeks. He looks at her as if looking for an answer to his failed memory.)

HER: You told me you loved me. And that you always have, ever since we became friends. You also asked me on a date, other than running the trail. And I believed you. I figured you would ask me today on our run. But you haven’t. And you never will. You’ve always been a drunk. And it’s about time I figured it out.

HIM: Oh come on now, every boy likes to party. Its no big deal. Just because I don’t remember it doesn’t mean I didn’t mean it, you know?

HER: Then tell me, do you mean it?

HIM: Mean what?

HER: Did you mean it when you told me you were in love with me?

HIM: Woa, woa, woa, hold up. I said I LOVED you, not that I am IN love with you.

HER: So you didn’t mean it then? I knew it.

HIM: No, that’s just unfair. You just twisted everything I said. I said I love you. And I do.

HER: You’re not making sense. Are you even sober yet from last night?

HIM: Oh shut up. What I meant to say is that I do love you, but I love you as my friend. You know, we’re jogging buddies. That’s the best kind, isn’t it?

HER: Jogging buddies? That’s what I am to you? A “jogger” friend? WOW…

HIM: Look, we’re not dating. I always just thought we were friends. You know, friends that like to run together, hang out, maybe go for the occasional hookup? It’s no big deal. Everyone does it. It’s normal. Chill out my friend, chill out!

HER: No, I’m not going to chill out. You’re a piece of shit, you know that? You lead girls on, expect them to just like being strung along, then act as if you don’t even care. Unbelievable! What do you expect to even do with your life? You’re already twenty, it’s about time you actually made something out of your nothing of a life.

HIM: Look, I’m just livin’ the dream. Don’t mean no harm by it.

Afterall, I am just a college kid…I’ll change when I’m ready someday…