ELEVATOR/SEX by Lan Tran
A Play in One Act
CHARACTERS (all played by a solo performer)
VIOLET, a 14-year-old African American street tough.
MRS. PHAM, an elderly Vietnamese immigrant.
IRIS, an overweight, middle-aged white woman with a thick Southern accent.
ASH, a late 20’s, successful Hawaiian surfer turned entrepreneur.
BLOSSOM, a precocious five-year-old girl.
MAID OF HONOR LADY, a bridesmaid in her late 30’s.
SETTING
In an elevator and building lobby; at a Weight Watchers meeting; at a self-help seminar; an intimate interior setting; and a wedding reception at Windows on the World.
TIME
September 10, 2001–present day.
SCENE I
[Lights up on a small enclosed space, lit to resemble an elevator. Violet stands within, facing audience. The “ding” sound signaling floors passed, is heard. When elevator reaches ground floor, she “exits” elevator and lights come up on full stage.]
VIOLET
Watch it, you hippo! Damn, people don’t be watchin’ where they goin’.
[Pause]
Tcheh. Uh-uh, honey, I didn’t take anything from that stupid fat lady. I don’t touch the fat ones. They gross.
Ping Pong always say the fat ones are the best cause they blubber too thick and they can’t feel when you liftin’ they wallets. But he can have ’em.
Ping Pong–that not his real name. It sum’n real chinky like Ping Wong or Ching Pong or some kinda sound it make when you throw silverware down the stairs. He taught me everything I know ’bout pickin’ pockets.
[Walks out to audience member, eyes their belongings]
Don’t worry, I checked you out in the lobby, you ain’t got nuthin.
[Continues to circulate from audience member to stage as she continues]
Ping Pong and me, we used to stay at the same shelter til he got a place and now he lets me stay there when I gets into a fight with my boyfriend.
Marcus don’t like Ping Pong even tho’ he never met him. When I first tole him ’bout my friend he was like, “Girl, they ain’t no Oriental homeless people.” What do he know? He never been on the streets. That pussy always had a roof over his head. I tole him, whatchu know? Every time you see a homeless person you look away. How you know someone a chink or not when you never even look ’em in the eye?
Marcus didn’t like that. He jealous, try to talk shit about Ping Pong. “He a old geezer. Violet, you just 14.” But I’m like shut up. Don’t you talk about my friend.
When I first ran away, Ping Pong was the only person who was nice to me. He help me. Like they say in the bible, give a man a fish and he gon go eat it? But you teach a man to fish and he gon go eat the fish he caught hisself? Ping Pong taught me how to fish money.
I ain’t no sucker need a bank account. Every crowded subway or bus, that like an ATM to me. When I want money I go ride me a packed elevator. I’m so good I can work ’em even if they ain’t packed. I once made $200 in a 20 floor ride. That’s $10 a floor. Fuck your $10 an hour. I’m talking $10 a floor!
Elevators in tourist buildings is the best.
[Pause]
Yeah, that’s why I was at the World Trade Center that day. I saw me this pink lace bra at Vicky’s Secret that I wanted and I do NOT shoplift. I work hard for my money and I pay cash. That Empire State Building don’t open til 10 and I like to be at work early. Got me a work ethic: get the worm, you know? Plus that Windows on the World restaurant in the North Tower, it had an express elevator. 107 floors. 10 ducats a floor, that’s over a thousand motherfuckin’ ducats. On top of, they got weddin’s up there! Beaucoup dollar, honey.
[Pause]
Nah, Marcus don’t know how I make my money. He don’t care. He jealous of my friendship with Ping Pong. “Why you hang out with a Geritol-poppin’ motherfucker, Violet? He so old he got a shriveled dick and prolly balls the size of ping pongs. He can’t give you what you need like me, baby.” I’m like, whatever. I can pay my own way.
And if you want to know? Don’t tell Marcus, but my friend ain’t got ping pong size balls. Mm. They more like a coupla hackeysacks. You know those things them white boys like to kick around? Yeah. Ping Pong’s dick ain’t shriveled either for a 50 year old. It a pretty good size. I know. I let him put it in me.
He thinks I’m drunk and passed out but I know. I just pretend to sleep but I can smell his hooch breath while he huffin’ and puffin’ away. Shit, old guy like that, he prolly never get any. Plus he help me out, let me stay in his place. It’s not like I’m a virgin. Who cares? Why you being so uptight?
[Pause]
You being like them uptight racist elevator bitches. All stuck up in their black designer clothes, black designer shoes, bigass black designer handbag. Man, those bags, the easiest ones! Calvin Klein want you spend all that money you think he’d put a zipper on it? But no, he don’t. That’s a-ight. I can just go right in.
I don’t know why men all into uptight stuck up bitches like that. They gotta be stiff ass bitches in bed. Don’t wanna do this. Don’t wanna do that. Can’t give head ’cause it might mess up they hair.
Man, when I was stuck in the elevator that day? There was a REAL uptight Latin bitch. Think she J-Lo or somethin’ all ass-itude. This dumbass fagboy all into her too. Wanna know where she got her boots.
Whatever.
I didn’t care. I just wanted those doors to open so I could get off ’cause I had lifted both they wallets. But then the elevator stopped. And nothing happened when we push the button, rang the bell, and the phone inside didn’t work. I’m like damn, I gotta get outta here. I start to get nervous. I don’t show it but I start feelin’ hot like there’s a fire or something. I start sweatin’. Damn it feels so hot.
Then both the fufu fairy and the Latin bitch get the bright idea to use they cell phones? Start diggin’ in they pockets and purse for it. And I’m like, great. That’s all I need today. First I wake up with some ancient Chinese dick in me and now I’m stuck in a box with some dumbasses who are gonna have a cow soon when they realize they wallets are gone.
And that’s exactly what happened.
First the pansy queen notice his is gone. And I could’ve gotten away with it cause he was trying to remember if he left it at the coffee place. But then that dumbass Latin bitch realize hers is gone and then they both look at each other. They look around the elevator. And then they look at me.
Isn’t that racist?
You got a fat-ass Russian woman, an old Latin crazy lady freak, and you know they ain’t gonna accuse they own kind. And then you got me. And you know I always dress nice. But they give me the evil eye! That’s racist. I told them so too.
Fuck you, you’re racist!
He got all offended and defensive but she didn’t care. Did not even blink. That’s how you KNOW she a racist. And that’s when the fat Russian woman try to step in, “Maybe is just coincidence.” I’m thinkin’ yeah. The same way it’s a coincidence your ass is so wide you need to beep when you backin’ up. I tell her, listen fatass, I can handle my own shit. Back off! Beep beep.
That shut her up.
Right about then we started hearing sirens. Po-po and fire trucks. We thought it was for us. To rescue us. When she heard them sirens that Latin bitch threaten to turn me in if I didn’t give her back her wallet.
I’m like, fuck you, you racist bitch. Don’t even try to touch me cause I will kick your ass.
That’s when we heard another loud sound like a bomb. We didn’t know what the fuck. But then the elevator started movin’ again. I figured I could make a break for it when the doors opened.
[Pause]
Man, that shit was crazy when we got to the first floor. Smoke. Po-po. Firemen. People covered in ashes. This LOUD whomping sound. Take the South exit, someone said. Not the other side. BAM. That’s where all the bodies be landing.
I looked at the Latin bitch. Po-po was crawlin e’rywhere but did she turn me in? No, she didn’t give a fuck. There was bigger shit goin’ on.
And I guess that’s all I’m sayin’ about Ping Pong. Lettin’ him have it?
When you been through all the shit I been through, all those fat men my mamma brought home, want me to call them daddy and then do me like no daddy ever should a girl? When you lived through shit like that, what’s one more skinny Chinaman? He ain’t so bad. He don’t beat you. He not fat. He been nice to you, teach you how to make a good living, let you stay in his place. So you let him stay inside your place. It’s nothing. He triflin’.
[Pause]
Like a pickpocket on 9/11.
You know I walked out the building, I threw that bitch’s wallet away. I knew she wasn’t gon’ report me but that not the point.
I didn’t want it anymore. And if you don’t want it? You gotta throw it away.
[Violet transforms into Mrs. Pham]
SCENE 2
[Mrs. Pham enters with a cackle.]
MRS. PHAM
Two pound. I lose two pound this week. Plus one pound last week, three pound total. Throw away, bye-bye! How much you lose?
[Pause]
Ah?
[Pause]
Fine don’t tell. Everybody secret. Big deal. I cung secret. I not tell my daughter 9/11 I near Ground Zero.
Tai xao toi phai noi? Why should I tell? Toi do co li do.
If I tell Lily I near World Trade, she going to ask why I downtown? Why I not home in Queens?
She know I go downtown for more lawyer. Malpractice a? Ohh, she get upset.
Mommy, why you want go trial again? So lawyer take all your money twice?
I try explain to her but she NO NO NO, don’t want to hear it. No khong muon nghe.
That medical doctor irresponsible. It routine procedure.
I go colonoscopy a? Nothing wrong. Regular check-up. At hospital they put tube in my um tic.
[Gestures to buttock]
Pump air into my colon, so can inflate?
But nurse, she young. She nervous. She put air pressure too high so I
[Gasps loudly]
I let go tube I holding between my leg. Cai lao bac si, doctor, he name Damien, he get upset on me. MORE AIR PRESSURE! He force tube back inside me.
He very distract, so rush rush, he not notice too much air go in! Dang le bang nai thoi. Suppose to put only this much air, like small lemon. No cho ban cai buoi! Instead they put me air like a grapefruit. Asian grapefruit! Not American. Asian grapefruit much bigger (but less calorie). He put so much air my colon it POP! like balloon.
Oh! I have pain!
He say shut up! He not listen. He pour liquid barium in me. It radioactive for cai a, x-ray, a? He not know he make hole so cai barium spill spill spill radioactive all inside me because hole. Medical report say radioactive liquid mix with blood, stool, internal organ. Mine! They make emergency surgery on me but because it liquid a? They not pick out neat neat like rice grain.
It liquid so they not get it all. They make me colostomy. I must wear bag 6 months! I poop direct to bag but sometime bag leak. Ohhh, dirty everywhere. Smelly everywhere. I get depress, lose 15 lbs. I not work.
Dr. have lawyer, he say I lazy. I sue doctor so I not go work. I lazy immigrant I just want take he money. Lawyer say Dr. Damien good citizen. He go Harvard. He church church all the time. Plus he young. He good looking. I old. I ugly. So jury say he win. I not get money. I still must pay lawyer.
That why my Lily, she get upset she know I go downtown. More lawyer.
Nhung toi van di. But I still go. I know she not support me.
The day accident happen, she out of town she not tell me. I don’t know. I call. Nay Lily, Mommy here, Mommy go see doctor, back later. You call Mommy. Then accident happen. Lily, Mommy here. Doctor make accident. Doctor make emergency surgery. You call Mommy. Surgery done. She still not call. I call again. Mommy here. Mommy in recovery. Come see Mommy.
Finally she call. She say she in Hawaii. Just get my message. Forget tell me she have trip. But she coming back. Come see me.
Huh.
Come see me. You know what she do? My body hurting. Very pain. She come in. “Mom, Mom!”
Sit here, hold my hand. She look at me. Close the door.
“Mom, I know you think I’m mistaken but I’m not. He did it. He molested me.”
[Pause]
Cai con nay! I almost die and she muon talk shit her dad. Her father mat! Dead. I alive! A lot pain but still alive.
No, no, no. We not talk this now.
“Are you calling me a liar?”
“Ahh! Not liar. But maybe you memory not so good. Misremember a?
“MISREMEMBER! How I could forget someone do this!” She attack me. My body broken but she grab me rough! Like crazy!
“How can I forget someone do THIS!?
[Pause]
She touch me very bad place.
Lily 27 a? Twenty-seven year she grow up, not say anything. I know she, my husband . . . they not get along. I know. I sad. But she not say this molest crazy.
Then he die. She have nightmare, come to me, “Mommy, he do this.” All of a sudden. 27 year nothing. Now she think he molest? Crazy.
I not say she crazy. I think America crazy. She learn crazy word, repress memory, here. Minh do co cai do. Vietnam not have this word.
Like me. After 9/11 I in elevator at my apartment building, get stuck. Me, 5 people, one of them Arab boy. I also have Murray, a? He my little dog. Chee-wah-wah. Very small. Nobody see him. He a good dog. Quiet. Not nyap!nyap!nyap! all the time like Lily. Not supposed to have dog in building–shhh!–nobody know.
That night toi co nightmare. I dream I in World Trade elevator with Arab boy. When elevator get stuck, in my nightmare Arab boy become terrorist! He pull out very sharp Ginsu knife like on TV. He want rape me! But Murray jump out try protect.
[Makes growling sounds]
Never growl before but growl to protect. And terrorist chop-chop Murray like a cucumber. Very fast. Chopchopchop!
Ahh! Murray!!!
His blood everywhere, mixing everywhere–his blood, my blood. I look at terrorist and he wearing mask like a surgery!
Nooo!!!
But I wake up. Ahh, it just nightmare. Murray fine. Arab boy not terrorist. Sometime mailman mistake, Arab boy always bring my mail (very important coupon). He good boy. Not terrorist. My head just making bad dream.
But my Lily, she not like that. She have nightmare. She think real. She think daddy molest her.
Kho qua!
So. I not pushy. She muon say she molest. I not say anything. She muon complain, 9/11, so horrible. I not say “Ha! You Upper West Side. I near Ground Zero.”
She nghi she suffer most-most, more than anyone. I say, put on jacket. It cold.
“Cold? You protect me from the cold? He molested me in next room. You protect me from cold!”
That how she say. Always want to win. If she suffer most, she win.
You have bad day. Car break down, boss make crazy, a? Too bad. She have molest. She win.
Very American: win win win.
Weight Watcher. This the only place even though I lose, I still win.
[Mrs. Pham transforms into Iris]
SCENE 3
[Iris visibly struggles with her weight.]
IRIS
Oh, it bothers me so much when women complain about their weight. Makes me just want to hug ’em. Especially when there’s nuthin wrong with ’em. Why look at me. I’m at least 100 lbs more than my “ideal” weight. And sugar, I’m proud of it.
But that’s the wonderful thing about a job like mine. When you’re a professional hugger, people expect yah to be a good large size. No one wants to be hugged by a skinny Minnie. How comfortin’ is that? That’s like reachin’ for a toothpick when what yah really want is a pillow.
Honey, if you’re a substantial woman, a professional hugger is the thing to be. Outside of sumo wrestlin’ and Polynesian royalty, where else are people valued for their large size?
Plus you’re helpin’ people.
[Begins to move towards audience]
Yah spreadin’ yah love and comfort enuhgy. LACE, we call it. Love And Comfort Energy. LACE.
[Hugs audience members]
I LACE you. I LACE you. I LACE YOU!
LACE is a basic human need.
[Continues speaking while moving among audience members to hug them or squeeze their shoulder, hand, or knee.]
I saw it over and over in my previous career as a nurse. In fact, I was working as a nurse when 9/11 happened. Yes, I was out at Einstein Hospital in the Bronx. They had called in all the extra staff, in case of overflow in the ER. So there we were, on duty, on edge, just waitin’ for those sirens and injured to roll in.
[Pause]
Waitin’.
[Pause]
At first we were glad it was so quiet. Thank God it’s under control. Someone else has got the wounded.
But as hours passed, the quiet got eerie. Finally someone said it. There’s no sirens cause there’s no survivors. Don’t you get it? There’s no survivors!
No survivors? That’s impossible. We’d hear sirens soon, I was sure of it.
Then ’round about midnight, it started happenin’. They started pourin’ in, but not the ones we were expectin’.
Pregnant women, y’all. Tons of ’em. Most of ’em hadn’t even hit their third trimester. But honey, they were all going into labor, the hordes of ’em, AT THE SAME TIME.
9/11 affected those babies in the womb so much, they were spontaneously abortin’. They could feel the horr-rah that was outside waitin’ for ’em and they did not want to be a part of this world.
I stood there listenin’ to all that wailin’ and sadness. Oh, those convulsin’ tummies! The worst part was, past a certain point, there was nothin’ I could do.
A few nights after, I started havin’ night terrors and panic attacks. I’d wake up screamin’, all sweaty like a pig.
And I couldn’t shake this crazy déjà vu feelin’. Why did it feel so familiar?
Then, a few days later I got on an elevator and there was a big ol’ pregnant woman. And after seein’ all those spontaneous abortions, that pregnant woman really freaked me out. I started hyperventilatin’. Oh that big ol tummy! PLEASE don’t pop out another dead baby. Let me out! I don’t want to touch it! Let me out! Let me out!!!
When she got off the elevator–praise the Lord–I realized what that déjà vu feelin’ was. See, I remembered another time when I had panic attacks.
[Pause]
See, I was just startin’ middle school when my first grade teacher Mrs. Wolfley (Mrs. WolfBreath we called her) she got arrested for molestin’ her students. Arlene Meyer, Jodie Montgomery, why even the Bischoff twins. Seemed like everyone I knew.
Everyone except me and Bethany Ann Lawson.
Bethany Ann Lardbutt we called her. ’Cause honey she was a large child. Not just big-boned, I’m talkin’ obese-fat. Why y’all wouldn’t know it lookin’ at me now, but I used to be rail thin. They used to tease me, “Iris, you so skinny you have to run around the shower just to get wet.” In fact, I was skinny until all this happened. Everyone asked, “You sure nuthin’ happened to you, Iris? Mrs. Wolfley sure did take a likin’ to you in class. Weren’t you her teacher’s pet? Why would Mrs. Wolfley go after everyone except you and Bethany Ann Lardbutt?”
Honey, I swore up and down that nuthin’ happened to me. Wouldn’t you know that’s when my panic attacks started. Then the night terrors. I kept gettin’ images of bein’ locked in a classroom closet. Let me out! I don’t want to touch it. Let me out! Let me out!
Oh God, it seemed so real! I couldn’t sleep for weeks. I started eatin’ everythin’ in sight. I just ate and ate and ate and ate. See, I didn’t want to be like the other children. I wanted to be like Bethany Ann Lardbutt–no one touched her. Don’t touch her! I don’t want to touch it! Don’t touch me! Let me out! I don’t want to touch it! Let me out!
I became afraid to touch people. Can you imagine? A nurse who’s afraid to touch people? Then one day I was helpin’ this frail lil’ ol Asian lady in the hospital. Somethin’ mighty traumatic must’ve happened to her. She was so skittish. All clingin’ to the bed rail, paranoid-like. More than anything, I knew she wanted her daughter to visit but when her girl finally came that woman was so ornery and mean to her child. Why do people do that? They push away the people they want to be loved by most. Like me, I suppose. See, I wasn’t really afraid to touch people. I wanted to be hugged.
To be hugged!
And honey that’s when I decided I could either keep cryin’ or get out and do somethin’ about it. Keep hurtin’ or start healin’. And that’s how I became a professional hugger.
Oh, you might call it your sensitivity trainin’, or your new age whatever-whatever. But I know. I know it’s the healin’ touch. Because sugar, if I need a hug, you must do too.
[Iris transforms into Ash]
SCENE 4
ASH
Dude, a professional hugger? You paid someone to hug you? How much was that?
[Pause]
Whoa! Ever heard of Vegas? You wanna throw money away, go there. What’s up?
[Pause]
Sensitivity training? Dude, she’s got you wrapped around her finger. First yoga, now this.
[Pause]
I don’t know, dude. I disagree. There’s some things sensitivity training can’t fix.
I ever tell you about that girl I met when I was partners in that restaurant out in Kailua? This was ’round the time I got voted Most Eligible Hawaiian Bachelor by that magazine. Yeah yeah, you’re just jealous. So I’m just hangin’ at the restaurant one night. Sittin’ at the bar. She comes up, lookin’ HOT. “Excuse me, aren’t you the guy they voted most eligible bachelor?” We start chattin’. I mention the surf tour. She’s all into it, says it’s her last night in town. What’s up? It’s on! Pretty soon we’re toastin’ the most eligible barstool, most eligible napkin, ashtray, you name it. Finally she goes, so does this make me the most eligible tourist?
“I don’t know, does it?” She’s like, maybe we go back to your place and there’s a most eligible bed we can find out.”
Gnarly, dude!
We’re at my place. Her most eligible dress is off. I’m grabbin’ a jim hat for my longboard when she goes, don’t you wanna know how many partners I’ve had?
[Shrugs]
Doesn’t matter to me. But she keeps wantin’ me to ask so I do. Figure she wants to impress me. Start wrappin’ up my longboard, you get what I’m sayin’? She goes, “Well do you want to know including or not including my father?”
I’m like, Excuse me? I got a half-rolled jimmy on my dick. Do I keep puttin’ it on? Do I take it off? She’s just lying there, dude.
I go, “Jesus, sorry.” Pull that shit off. Guessin’ it’s not my lucky night.
But she’s like it’s okay, grabs my dick, pops another jimmy in her mouth, then slides it on, starts to blow me. And she knows all about the balls, dude. This girl don’t deny. A girl with skills, you know what I’m sayin’? We’re talkin’ grand cru class head. I fuckin’ dive in that eligible pussy. Man, I am really likin’ life and then she throws her chest out. Like she’s offerin’ her tits. Appetizers, have an amuse bouche. But just as I take a fuckin’ nipple she goes, “I was only 5 you know, I was only 5 years old when my father raped me.” Total wipeout. On my ass dude!
She’s cryin’ now. “Sorry. Sorry.” Sayin’ this is why she came to Hawaii. Work with some healer she heard about. Lotta good that did, huh? She saw him earlier that day. “He said I had so much pain inside, he didn’t want to touch me. But you want to, right? You want to touch me even though he didn’t.”
I’m like “Yeah, of course I want to touch you.”
She keeps apologizin’, sayin’ I must think she’s so horrible. I go, “You’re not horrible. You’re gorgeous baby. Just had some bad shit happen. Maybe we should sleep.”
So we lie down. She takes my hand. Just to hold at first. But then it feels wet and warm. Man, she’s got my fuckin’ fingers in her mouth. Starts bitin’. I go, “What are you doin’?”
She turns over. Sad eyes. Asks me, didn’t I like that? Looks hurt. Says she wants to cuddle me. Yeah, whatever baby. Let her snuggle. Her body’s warm. Got this steady, calm breath on my shoulder. Kinda tickles.
[Wiggles shoulder]
She laughs. Light and friendly. Same laugh from earlier that night when things were good, you know? Her most-eligible-barstool/ashtray/napkin-laugh. Sounds nice.
I relax. Then her hands are all over me again. Kissing. Grabbing.
Man, I am so fuckin’ tired, I just wanna sleep. But what am I supposed to do? She wants it and I’m most eligible bachelor, right? So I give it to her. Start hittin’ it. She’s all into it now. Crazy shit. She grabs my ass. Grindin’ away. Then she shoves a finger up there. Finger fuckin’ me. Holy shit man, I never thought I’d be into that. But it totally gets me off. I wanna fuckin’ bust a load. And just as I’m about to she screams, “It was anal. My father anally raped me when I was five years old. Five!”
And I do it, man. Totally shoot a wad as she says it.
“Five. Five. Five.”
[Pause]
So you tell me, man, what’s your sensitivity trainin’ gonna do ’bout that?
[Ash transforms into Blossom]
SCENE 5
[Blossom vigilantly watches audience members for sound and shushes them.]
BLOSSOM
Shhh! Can’t you see people are trying to get married? That’s my Auntie Marie, the bride.
Shhh! You’re not supposed to talk during the ceremony. Or eat raisins. I know, this is my third time in a wedding.
I get to hold lots of flowers because I am the flower girl. There are violets and lilies and irises and orchids.
I wish my dog could be ring bearer. He’d be much better than my stinky brother who cries all the time. You can’t talk or eat raisins at a wedding but they let you cry. Even the Maid of Honor Lady keeps crying.
She’s very pretty. If I were that pretty I would not cry all the time. I would
[Waves and curtsies to all her imaginary admirers]
If I were that pretty I would not be sad or cry because everyone would tell me how pretty I am all the time.
This morning mommy was busy with my little brother and Auntie Marie couldn’t help me cause she’s the bride and you’re not supposed to bother her with MI-nor DE-tails. So Auntie Marie had the Maid of Honor Lady help me put my dress on. That must mean she’s MY Maid of Honor Lady too.
MAID OF HONOR LADY
Oh, you don’t want me to help her put on the dress, do you? I’m not very good with kids.
BLOSSOM
Oh Maid of Honor Lady, it’s fine. There are ten girls in my class but no one has been in as many weddings as I have. I know what to do.
I show her my pretty dress. Look Maid of Honor Lady, isn’t it pretty? It’s sea-foam green! My first wedding I had a perry-winko dress. Do you know perry-winko? It’s a color like light blue but it’s much softer on my kumpection. I like this sea-foam green the best because it’s like a mermaid. Do you know the Little Mermaid? She’s pretty like you.
Okay, you have to undress me! And Maid of Honor Lady does like this
[Very gingerly undresses Blossom]
No Maid of Honor Lady, not like that. Like this! WHOOSH! No more clothes. Here I am! Princess Mermaid! Ooh, it’s cold! Do you like my Little Mermaid underwear?
[Maid of Honor Lady stares at Blossom, is clearly shaken and disturbed by something]
Is something wrong? Do I have the chicken pox?
MAIF OF HONOR LADY
[Pause]
No. I just. You’re fine. I . . . I looked like that when I was your age.
[Whispers]
You’re so little!
BLOSSOM
I’m five!
Okay Maid of Honor Lady, you need to hold the dress so I can get into it. But she held it all funny, like it was a stinky diaper bag. So I said Maid of Honor Lady, I think when my mom does this she holds the dress lower so I can step into it. So she holds the dress lower and that’s when I notice her hands are shaking like gramma’s arthritis. So I did what I do for my gramma so she doesn’t feel sad that she’s the only one who’s shaky. I do my shakey-shake. Like this!
[Shakes her entire body]
maid of honor lady
Stop that! Stand still! Stop! You know what? I need a minute.
blossom
And then she leaves! So I put my dress on all by myself but I couldn’t do the bow so I went to look for my Maid of Honor Lady. And I found her in the bathroom. And her hands were still shaking and she was crying so I . . . Hello Maid of Honor Lady, are you practicing to cry for the wedding?
MAID OF HONOR LADY
Oh, I didn’t see you. Yes, I’m just practicing.
BLOSSOM
Look, I can twirly-twirl my dress like an ice-skater. Have you ever seen a mermaid ice skate? I need you to tie my bow.
[To audience]
I don’t think she’s practicing to cry for the wedding.
[To Maid of Honor Lady]
Okay thank you. Wheee!
[Runs amok onstage. Speaks to audience.]
Do you like this place? Auntie Marie said when Norbert asked her to marry him she felt like she was on top of the world so that’s why she picked this place, Windows on the World, for the reception. When you look out the window you feel like you are on top of the world!
Auntie Marie said she’s been dreaming about her wedding day since she was a little girl, like me. But I’m not little. I’m FIVE!
Maid of Honor Lady, what did you dream about when you were five?
MAID OF HONOR LADY
[Pause]
Sweetie, I need a drink.
BLOSSOM
[Gasps]
Do you think Maid of Honor Lady is sad ’cause her dress doesn’t have a bow like mine? And she can’t make hers twirly-twirl? Maybe if I show her the pretty lights in the window she won’t be sad. And look! I got some pretty napkins. They have fancy writing in real gold. I can give them to her. If she still wants to cry she’ll have special napkins with writing in real gold. See? Marie & Norbert. And then it has today’s date. Where is Maid of Honor Lady? I must look for her.
Oh! I think I just saw her get on the elevator. Wait for me!
[Runs to small space where lights change to re-establish elevator]
Oh, you’re not Maid of Honor Lady. Hi, my name is Blossom. What’s your name.
VIOLET
Violet
[Finger is on elevator button to hold door open, throughout conversation with Blossom]
BLOSSOM
Oh, that’s a pretty name. It’s a color and a flower.
VIOLET
Look kid, I’m workin’. You stayin’ on or gettin’ off?
BLOSSOM
You work on an elevator? That’s funny. I’m looking for my friend the Maid of Honor Lady. Have you seen her?
VIOLET
Do I look like a Maid of Honor to you?
BLOSSOM
Mommy says just because you don’t look like someone doesn’t mean you don’t have stuff in common with them. I bet you have a lot in common with the Maid of Honor Lady.
VIOLET
Kid, we got nothing in common. You gettin’ off or what?
BLOSSOM
[Exits elevator, lights re-establish wedding reception]
Oh, I forgot to show her my napkin with the special date. See? September 10, 2001. Today is a very special day.
[Cartwheels off stage. Blackout.]
Writer/performer Lan Tran’s work has been presented off-Broadway, at New York City Hall, in the Lincoln Center theater-sponsored American Living Room Festival, the Walt Disney Concert Hall’s REDCAT Theatre, the Ford Theatre, and at a number of colleges, most recently Harvard University. Elevator/Sex premiered at the Pan-Asian Repertory Spring Festival of New Works at New York’s off-Broadway West End Theatre in May 2006. It was directed by Michael Kearns and Ms. Tran performed all of the characters.