Red Lights

RED LIGHTS BY JEFFREY LO

ARIANNA sitting in her car at a red light.

Floating above ARIANNA’s head is a classic traffic light.

ARIANNA:

Red Light.

Every time I look.

Everywhere I look.

Red light.

Waiting for the red light to just –

Go away.

Go to green.

Go away.

Either way.

Yellow?

Whatever.

Just not red.

The light turns to green.

ARIANNA:

Go!

The light quickly goes back to red.

ARIANNA:

Shit!

How?

Why?

It didn’t even go to yellow.

It’s supposed to go to yellow first!

The light turns yellow.

ARIANNA:

Go!

The light quickly goes back to red.

ARIANNA:

Fuck!

Why the fuck –

I just want to –

FUCK!

I just want to move forward.

Is that so much to ask?

I just want to –

The light turns green.

ARIANNA:

GO!

The light turns red.

ARIANNA:

Let me go!

Why won’t you let me go!

One step forward.

Two steps back.

One step forward.

Five steps back.

Red.

Stuck on red.

All I see is red.

How do I break through?

Let me break through.

Fuck the red.

The light turns green.

ARIANNA ignores it.

ARIANNA:

Fuck the light.

The light stays green.

ARIANNA:

I don’t care about the light.

The light turns yellow.

ARIANNA:

Go ahead.

You are not the boss of me.

GO!

TURN RED!

WATCH ME!

The light turns red.

ARIANNA stares at it.

Silence.

Beat.

Silence.

Silence.

ARIANNA:

Watch me.

The stage turns red.

Silence.

ARIANNA:

Watch me.

The theatre turns red.

Beat.

ARIANNA:

Go.

ARIANNA stands and exits.

Blackout.

END OF PLAY.

Homecoming

HOMECOMING BY JEFFREY LO

ELLA and MOIRA having catching up after 15 years.

ELLA: Oh my god.

MOIRA: I know!

ELLA: You’re messing with me.

MOIRA: I’m afraid not.

ELLA: I said that?

MOIRA: Yes!

ELLA: My gosh…

MOIRA: I asked you to be my date to homecoming and you said you could never be my date for homecoming!

ELLA: Did I say why?
MOIRA: No!

ELLA: Why didn’t you ask?

Pause.

ELLA: Gosh. I’m so embarrassed.

MOIRA: Don’t be, it was 15 years ago.

ELLA: Still.

MOIRA: we were 17!

ELLA: I know but…

MOIRA: What’s important is that we’re here now.

ELLA: But –

MOIRA: It’s fine… I swear.

ELLA: … ok.

Beat.

MOIRA: So.

ELLA: So.

MOIRA: How has life been?

ELLA: Oh, it’s been fine, I guess. You know how it is.

MOIRA: Yeah, totally…

ELLA: You?

MOIRA: About the same really, depending on how you look at it.

ELLA: Right… right…

Awkward silence.

MOIRA: Well, I guess we’ve fully caught up then. Nice to see you!

They laugh.

This breaks the ice.

ELLA: Sorry.

MOIRA: Why?

ELLA: I don’t know. I feel like I’m just not being a good conversationalist right now.

MOIRA: The Ella Nguyen I knew was always a good conversationalist.

ELLA: The Ella Nguyen you knew was 17. Much easier to hold a conversation with a 17 year old…

MOIRA: I guess… I feel like most people are awkward when they are teenagers and better when they grow up.

ELLA: That’s true.

Beat.

ELLA: So what do you do now?

MOIRA: For work?

ELLA: Yeah.

MOIRA: I brew beer.

ELLA: You brew beer!

MOIRA: Yeah!

ELLA: I never woulda guessed you’d become a beer brewer –

MOIRA: In high school we barely knew what beer was.

ELLA: Right.

MOIRA: Bu.reallyt yeah, that’s what I do. I brew beer.

ELLA: How many beers?

MOIRA: We have an IPA, a double IPA, a pilsner and we’re working on some other things… blendy type stuff.

ELLA: Really cool!

MOIRA: Yeah! Do you drink beer?

Pause.

ELLA: Not really, no.

MOIRA: I see.

ELLA: Sorry, sorry.

MOIRA: Why are you sorry?

ELLA: I don’t know. Because that’s what you make for a living and I don’t… drink it.

MOIRA: What, am I going to hate on a recovering alcoholic because she doesn’t wanna drink my beer?

ELLA: Right. Right…

Beat.

MOIRA: You seem tense.

ELLA: Do I?

MOIRA: Are you ok?

ELLA: Yeah.

MOIRA: Are you sure?

ELLA: Yeah.

MOIRA: What’s on your mind?

Silence.

ELLA: Why…?

ELLA stops herself.

MOIRA: Why…?

Pause.

ELLA: Why am I here?

MOIRA: To catch up with your high school best friend, I thought.

ELLA: Right but why?

MOIRA: Why not?

ELLA: We haven’t spoken to each other in 15 years.

MOIRA: Hence catching up.

ELLA: But why catch up?

MOIRA: I say again – why not?

ELLA: Why did we stop talking?

MOIRA: I don’t know…

ELLA: It was because what you mentioned before. Was it not?

MOIRA: Maybe…

ELLA: You asked me to homecoming.

MOIRA: Yes. And you said no.

ELLA: And so we stopped being friends.

MOIRA: I don’t remember. Maybe.

ELLA: Well answer this. When you asked me to be your date to homecoming. What way was that?

MOIRA: What do you mean?

ELLA: Be your date in what way?

MOIRA: … You know what way.

ELLA: And because of that way we stopped being friends.

MOIRA: I thought you didn’t remember any of this.

ELLA: I do.

MOIRA: Ok…

ELLA: If we stopped being friends back then because of this… did you think anything would change now?

Long silence.

MOIRA stands up.

MOIRA: I guess I had hoped so.

MOIRA exits.

ELLA: Bye.

Lights fade.

END OF PLAY.

Think About Your Breathing

THINK ABOUT YOUR BREATHING BY JEFFREY LO

A meditation retreat.

JEFFREY is sitting amongst a group of other people

MIKEY sits in front of the group.

MIKEY: Alright everyone. I’m going to lead us through a brief meditation exercise.

A projection above JEFFREY’s head: Oh boy, I’m so bad at this…

MIKEY: Everyone close your eyes.

A projection above JEFFREY’s head: Ok…

JEFFREY closes his eyes.

MIKEY: Now I want you to breath in…

JEFFREY breathes in.

MIKEY: Now breath out.

JEFFREY breathes out.

MIKEY: Now when you do your next breath in, I want you to hold it for ten seconds. Breath in.

JEFFREY breaths in.

A projection above JEFFREY’s head: One… two… three…. God this is hard.

JEFFREY exhales early.

MIKEY: Don’t worry if you didn’t make it to ten, it can be hard…

A projection above JEFFREY’s head: shit did he see me?

MIKEY: Let’s try it one more time. Ten seconds. Breath in.

JEFFREY breaths in.

A projection above JEFFREY’s head: One… two… three… four…

MIKEY: This time I want you to not think about anything. Clear your mind and think about the air you are holding inside your lungs…

A projection above JEFFREY’s head: six… seven… eight… nine…

JEFFREY exhales early.

A projection above JEFFREY’s head: Shit it almost happened that time.

MIKEY: Now we’re going to continue to breath in and out but really take some time to just focus on your breath. Focus your heart. Your soul. Your energy. And your mind to the air you are breathing in and breathing out. Let’s do it together. Breath in.

JEFFREY breathes in.

MIKEY: Breath out.

JEFFREY breathes out.

MIKEY: And focus on the air.

A projection above JEFFREY’s head: Focus on the air…

JEFFREY breathes in.

JEFFREY breathes out.

JEFFREY breathes in.

JEFFREY breathes out.

MIKEY: Good…

A projection above JEFFREY’s head: air…

JEFFREY breathes in.

JEFFREY breathes out.

A projection above JEFFREY’s head: air…

JEFFREY breathes in.

JEFFREY breathes out.

A projection above JEFFREY’s head: air…

JEFFREY breathes in.

JEFFREY breathes out.

A projection above JEFFREY’s head: What should I eat for lunch?

MIKEY: Your mind might start to wander away from the air…

A projection above JEFFREY’s head: Shit!

MIKEY: Just gently. work your way back to the air…

A projection above JEFFREY’s head: air…

MIKEY: Breath in… Breath out… Air…

JEFFREY breathes in.

JEFFREY breathes out.

A projection above JEFFREY’s head: air… 

MIKEY: Breath in… Breath out… Air…

JEFFREY breathes in.

JEFFREY breathes out.

A projection above JEFFREY’s head: Cuban sandwich…

MIKEY: I know it’s hard. Just focus on the air…

A projection above JEFFREY’s head: How does he know?

MIKEY: Now just think about how you’re doing…

A projection above JEFFREY’s head: Terribly.

MIKEY: Don’t be hard on yourself.

A projection above JEFFREY’s head: Amazingly.

MIKEY: But be honest.

A projection above JEFFREY’s head: … What!?

MIKEY: Just think about –

A projection above JEFFREY’s head: I can’t deal with this. I’m out of here!

JEFFREY opens his eyes and sees MIKEY looking right at him.

JEFFREY: Oh.

MIKEY: Yes?

JEFFREY: I didn’t realize your eyes weren’t closed like the rest of us…

Silence.

JEFFREY: Bye.

JEFFREY stumbles his way out of the meditation circle. 

END OF PLAY.

30 Year Old Drinks

30 YEAR OLD DRINKS BY JEFFREY LO

The day after JARED’s 30th birthday.

30 JARED stumbles out of his bedroom door.

30 JARED is surprised to see a person in his kitchen cooking eggs.

That person is 29 JARED.

29 JARED: Sup.

30 JARED: … sup.

29 JARED: Happy birthday.

30 JARED: It was yesterday.

29 JARED: I know.

30 JARED: Who are you?

29 JARED: Who do you think I am?

30 JARED: I think you’re… I mean, I don’t think you are but you look like… well…. I don’t know.

29 JARED: No, you know. You can answer. Who do you think I am?

30 JARED: I think you are me.

29 JARED: I am you…

30 JARED: But how…?

29 JARED: Unimportant.

30 JARED: … But why?

29 JARED: More important.

30 JARED: ok…

29 JARED: I am you exactly one year ago.

30 JARED: One year ago?

29 JARED: One year ago. Precisely one year ago. The day after your 29thbirthday.

30 JARED: Ok…?

29 JARED: Last night. How much did you have to drink?

30 JARED: I can’t remember.

29 JARED: Sure you can. Or… I can. You had 2 old fashions.

30 JARED: 2 old fashions?

29 JARED: Yeah.

30 JARED: And I feel like..

29 JARED: Shit?

30 JARED: Uh huh…

29 JARED: 366 days ago you celebrated your birthday. How much did you have to drink?

30 JARED: How am I supposed to remember?

29 JARED: Your friends went all out. 4 old fashions, 2 moscow mules, 3 pints of beer, a shot of hennesy… and a jagger bomb.

30 JARED: Jesus…

29 JARED: And look at me now.

30 JARED: You’re…

29 JARED: Cooking eggs.

30 JARED: Cooking eggs…

29 JARED: And loving life. Not an ache in my head.

30 JARED: But how…?

29 JARED: I’m 29 Jared… not 30… When 29 Jared drinks… it’s different than when 30 Jared drinks… and don’t even get me started on 35 Jared… it’s all downhill from here.

29 JARED puts 30 JARED’s eggs on a plate.

29 JARED: Here you go.

30 JARED: Where are you going?

29 JARED: I don’t know… probs get a drink somewhere.

29 JARED exits.

30 JARED stares at the door.

Slowly, 30 JARED eats his eggs.

Lights fade. 

END OF PLAY.

Worked

WORKED BY JEFFREY LO

RHEA, a Michigan girl who recently moved to San Francisco is on the phone with her mother, BARBARA.

BARBARA: How is my baby doing?

RHEA: Fine mom.

BARBARA: I’m just so relieved you found a place to live over there. I hear it is just SO HARD to find a place to live there and especially to AFFORD there. Nothing like good old Lansing…

RHEA: Right, mom…

BARBARA: I remember you saying you wanted to go to San Francisco because you wanted to be somewhere with culture, and interesting people and interesting things to do and I understood that but I was just scared. Do you remember saying all that?

RHEA: Yeah, mom.

BARBARA: Do you remember how scared I was for my baby?

RHEA: I do mom.

BARBARA: But now you’re there and you ge to do all that funky dory stuff! All that fun museums and fun bars and fun whatevers. Right?

RHEA: Maybe someday mom.

BARBARA: Maybe someday? 

RHEA: Maybe someday mom.

BARBARA: Well… what the hell did you do all day?

RHEA: I worked.

BARBARA: What about yesterday?

RHEA: I worked.

BARBARA: And before that?

RHEA: I worked. And after that. I will work. In order to live here in this place with all the things to do… all I can afford to do is work.

BARBARA: Wow… Well why don’t you just –

RHEA: Sorry mom, can’t talk. I gotta go back to work.

RHEA hangs up the phone.

END OF PLAY.

Tired but Not Tired

TIRED BUT NOT TIRED BY JEFFREY LO

DAVID and RICHARD, roommates, eating their morning cereal.

RICHARD: You came home at what time?

DAVID: 11.

RICHARD: PM?

DAVID: Yes, PM.

RICHARD: Shit…

DAVID: What?

RICHARD: That’s late.

DAVID: I mean, not THAT late.

RICAHRD: I mean, pretty late.

DAVID: You were still awake. I heard you in your room.

RICHARD: Sure, but I was just streaming The Great British Bakeoff, bro. Real relaxing.

DAVID: So.

RICHARD: You were working.

DAVID: I mean, KINDA.

RICHARD: KINDA!? What does that even mean?

DAVID: I was at the gallery.

RICHARD: Working.

DAVID: Eh…

RICHARD: Ok, what were you doing specifically.

DAVID: I was working with Frost on hanging our pieces for the exhibit.

RICHARD: And…?

DAVID: That’s it.

RICHARD: That’s it?

DAVID: Yes…

RICHARD: Right. Ok. So you were working.

DAVID: Ok, fine I was working. What are you getting it?

RICHARD: What I’m getting at is you worked a long day! That’s all. You worked your shift at the coffee shop. Opening shift, right?

DAVID: Right.

RICHARD: So you left here at 5 in the morning. Worked a shift. Then went to the gallery to work. You came back here at 11 PM. You worked that ENTIRE TIME. 

DAVID: I mean…. After the work shift, it was the artwork.

RICHARD: Art. Work. You still worked.

DAVID: ok…

RICHARD: All I’m saying is that you worked. When you were at the coffee shop you worked. When you were at the gallery you worked. Just two different kinds of work. All I’m saying is you worked ALL DAY last night. And you must be tired.

DAVID: … sure.

RICHARD: What? Aren’t you tired.

DAVID: Yes…

RICHARD: But?

DAVID: But I was working on my art…

RICHARD: So?

DAVID: So… I was tired… but not tired…

RICHARD picks up his bowl of cereal.

RICHARD: I don’t understand you.

RICHARD exits.

Blackout.

END OF PLAY.

The Miseducation

THE MISEDUCATION BY JEFFREY LO

MS. HILL speaking to a group of elementary school aged students.

MS. HILL:

Listen up children.

Are you listening?

How many of you would like to be famous?

Mmm…

I thought I’d see that.

I was worried I’d see that.

I was worried you’d all feel that.

No, don’t look disappointed.

I’m not judging any of you.

I understand.

I just worry.

As you are young.

Very young.

And I would just like to… talk you through my experience.

My thoughts.

My knowledge.

Of fame.

Pause.

MS. HILL:

There are people out there.

People are searching for those who desire fame.

Who can acquire fame.

Who have “what it takes” as they say.

I’m here to tell you two things.

One – you all have what it takes.

Two – be careful what you want.

…

…

Call me Ms. Hill.

Blackout.

END OF PLAY.

The Pennant

THE PENNANT BY JEFFREY LO

DUANE, 78 years old, speaking a letter.

DUANE:

I’m going to die soon.

I know that sounds morbid but given my current situation it’s not.

And by situatuation, I mean life.

Given my current life. It’s not sad that I’m going to die.

…

Now that’s sad.

But who’s to blame for that?

You.

That’s right.

You.

Each and every one of you receiving this letter.

If you are reading this letter it means one of two things.

One - you have contributed to the terrible state of my life.

Two – one of the people who contributed to my life being terrible is your friend who just handed you this letter to look at. Rethink your friendship. Now. Trust me. You’re welcome.

If you’re one of those first people, you are probably wondering why I am writing this letter.

You might think it’s because I am angry at you and I want you to know that.

No.

I couldn’t do that in a some mass written letter.

No.

You’d need a personalized letter.

A long letter.

An epic letter.

Stating what a piece of shit you were to me.

I don’t have time for that.

No.

What this letter is for is to tell you – useless people who were in my life but for whatever reason are likely in charge of my funeral – I want to be buried with my pennant.

That’s right.

The San Francisco Giants pennant from their first world series season in 2010.

Because it’s worth more to me and was better for my life than anything any of you did.

…

…

…

I guess this is a petty letter.

But fuck it.

I’m dead anyway.

Bye fuckers.

Love, 

Duane.

Blackout.

END OF PLAY.

Match

MATCH BY JEFFREY LO

RITA, sitting at her cubicle desk.

She is swiping on Tinder. Or at least something like it.

RITA: No. Left.

RITA swipes left.

RITA: Meh. Left.

RITA swipes left.

RITA: Gross. Left.

RITA swipes left.

RITA: Too short. Left.

RITA swipes left.

RITA: Too little hair. Left.

RITA swipes left.

RITA: Too much… hair…. There. What? How? Left.

RITA swipes left.

RITA: Too many other girls in photos. Left.

RITA swipes left.

RITA: Too many boys. Left.

RITA swipes left.

RITA: Not ugly… but not cute. Left.

RITA swipes left.

RITA: Ohhhh. Very cute. Very sexu. Yes. Yes. I’m down. Right.

RITA swipes left.

RITA: Wait. Shit. No!

Blackout.

END OF PLAY.

Better Days Are A Thing of The Past

BETTER DAYS ARE A THING OF THE PAST BY JEFFREY LO
(DOWNLOAD PDF HERE)

BETHANY and SALLY at brunch.

BETHANY: I’m so glad we got a table so quickly for brunch this weekend.

SALLY: Yes love.

BETHANY: The food here is so good, isn’t it?

SALLY: Yes love.

BETHANY: And although it’s worth the wait, it’s wonderful to not have to wait.

SALLY: Yes love.

BETHANY: We love coming here don’t we?

SALLY: Sure love.

BETHANY: Spending time together…

SALLY: Uh huh. Love.

BETHANY: I’m happy to be with you here now…

SALLY: Yes love.

BETHANY: Do you know what you want to order?

SALLY: Yes love.

BETHANY: The usual?

SALLY: Yes love.

BETHANY: I know what your usual is!

SALLY: Yes love.

BETHANY: Do you know what my usual is?

SALLY: Maybe love.

BETHANY: Eggs benedict! With two sausages and a single slice of bacon.

SALLY: Ok love.

BETHANY: I get the same thing every time we are here.

SALLY: Ok love.

BETHANY: For brunch, that is.

SALLY: Ok love.

BETHANY: So now you know what my usual is!

SALLY: Yes love.

BETHANY: And you can commit it to memory.

SALLY: Maybe love.

BETHANY: You promise to commit it to memory?

SALLY: Maybe love.

BETHANY: Not maybe… You promise!

SALLY: Maybe love.

BETHANY: But…

SALLY: Maybe love.

BETHANY: Ok…

Silence.

BETHANY: Are you ready to order?

SALLY: Yes love.

BETHANY: I love you… so much.

SALLY: Yes love.

BETHANY raises her hand to get a waiters attention.

Lights fade. 

END OF PLAY.