District: A Wine Bar in Two Acts

Act 1: Introduction

Setting: A busy street near the Ball Park. Cars are whizzing past in the after-work rush. A well-dressed young woman with extra slim thighs (hey, it's my play) exits a taxi, lifts her hand to shade her eyes and looks around as if searching for something or someone. She finds what she is looking for and dashes across the street. As she approaches what appears to be a wine bar, she pulls out her camera, then disappears inside. She hesitates for a moment, scanning the madding crowd for a familiar face. She soon begins a systematic walk-through, squeezing sideways past snickering boys in ball caps, eking out a space between a girl clinging to a beer and another one inexplicably baring her midriff (it's a very cold day). Seeing that every seat is taken, and feeling her head thrum with the stirrings of a headache from the noise, she goes back outside to wait. While she is waiting, no fewer than three nattily dressed types -- two men in $200-a-pair jeans, one woman in a skin-tight skirt that suggests she's come from work rather than the game that recently let out -- exit, cell phones in one hand, ears plugged with their fingers. Each of their conversations goes something like this.

Woman in tight skirt: Where are you? (pause) We're at District. When will you be done? (pause) Cool. Okay, well meet us inside. (pause) I know! Awesome! See you soon! Kisses!

Act 2: Decision

Setting: Two minutes later. The well-dressed woman with enviably slim thighs waits just outside the wine bar. Occasionally, people spill out of the bar, shrieking loudly into their cell phones. A lone woman wearing shorts and a tee shirt walks past, weaving. From a distance, another woman approaches. She, too, is well-dressed and her thighs are maddeningly slim -- even slimmer than the first womans' (how does she do it?). The two women wave at one another, then hug. But they don't do that scream-y thing a lot of women do when they hug. Nor do they do that stupid side-to-side hugging motion. You know the one.

Woman 1: (grabbing Woman 2 and pointing inside through a window) Look inside.
Woman 2: Ugh.
Woman 1: Do you want to go somewhere else?
Woman 2: Yes.
Woman 1: Okay, where's your car?
Woman 2: This way. (They start walking.) If that were my life, I would have to kill myself.

The two women walk off into the distance, destined for a very pleasant evening of sushi.

The End.

Comments

[Mom]

Hey, this looks ready for off Broadway to me!

[Jennifer Jeffrey]

Haaa. I could almost imagine it was me in the scene, playing the part of a woman with exceedingly thin thighs.

[sam]

this post has unfortunately gotten me thinking about my thighs. Ever since I read it I keep noticing whenever they rub against one another.
Not good.

[Catherine]

Mom -- thanks for the support ;)

Jennifer & Sam -- hush up about your thighs, you're both slim and beautiful! Maybe it's the Olsen twins whose thighs are offensively small (rather than the other way around), shall we go with that sort of thinking?

[Mom]

Do the Olsen twins even have thighs? Just wondering...

[sam]

I suppose so - At least I am in no danger of snapping in two any time soon (do you think that is how the Olsen twins came to be made?)

[Catherine]

Ah, you two kill me. If it didn't make me feel like a tween, I'd type something like LOL here.