ACT 1, SCENE 1
GABI sits on her bedroom floor. The room is not overly decorated, but there are a couple of accents of personality (knick knacks, if you will). Clothes are stuffed into drawers, but nothing on the floor. An excess of bags are hanging from a standing coat rack. There are an ungodly amount of stuffed animals on the bed. Gabi is twisting a pill grinder frantically. Near her is a crumpled dollar bill and a cut straw, as well as copies of Arcadia and Frankenstein. Both works are littered with post-its and annotations (GABI’s actor must read and annotate both books).
GABI Stops grinding, to the audience: Ok, so maybe the Motrin bottle wasn’t the best hiding spot. I don’t know what I was thinking. I read somewhere, maybe on reddit?, that the best place to hide things is the obvious places. If my pills are gonna rattle, at least it should look like they should be rattling… right?
GABI resumes grinding until wrist tires.
GABI Shaking wrist, wincing in pain: And what is with these doctors and labs? Stop making life hard for speed junkies. We’re gonna do it anyways, maybe spare our wrists? (rolls eyes, looking at a random spot in the audience) Stop giving me that look. I’m going to guess your name is Bethany. Bethany, I’m sorry you got engaged and married your first year at BYU and immediately dropped out. I’m so sorry you didn’t get to taste that weed brownie or have that one lesbian experience with a “friend” [air quotations]. I’m so, SO sorry that your husband- Joseph is my best guess, honestly- Joseph refuses to touch you and took up an online relationship with a cam girl,a relationship that is a lot healthier than your sham of a marriage. Bethany, stop judging me, and go cheat on your husband. Or get a vibrator.
Where was I? Before I was rudely interrupted by Bethany? Oh yes, the extended release beads. What a pain. But I guess that’s no longer my concern. You see, Beth [looking back at the previous spot in the audience] , I am clean. No, I’m serious. We’re currently witnessing my past. I like to come back here when I fantasize about all the stimulants I deprive myself of. Willingly. Sort of. Here, I am at peace. Sure, it feels like I am wired to 76 car batteries and I can run two marathons on two sips of water, but I am at peace. I love speed. Not just the drug, mind you. I love the feeling of being unstoppable, I love the dopamine, I love the rush.
Beth, have you seen Nurse Jackie? The TV show? Has anyone else in this community theater audience? I’m assuming this is a community theater audience. I mean, the writer of this play is just another frustrated ex-junky who thinks her story is so different then the hundred thousand other plays about junkies. And unlike her, I get to snort this line right now. She’s upset about it.
Anyways, Nurse Jackie. Wow, what a show. Great inspiration for hiding spots. Anyways, she quoted St. Augustine who said “Make me good, God, but not yet.”
GABI opens the pill crusher, preps and snorts the lines with the cut off straw. She sniffs multiple times, closes her eyes and sighs.
GABI: THIS is who I’m meant to be. Not the loser, perpetually tired and bored human piece of meat pie I’ve become. I want to be clean. Someday. But not yet.
Muffled voices, calling for Gabi.
GABI, standing up dizzily: Shit, I’ve been back here too long. They can’t find me here, they’re scared enough.
Someone calls from the audience, “Who?”
GABI: Who? Ah, yes, planted audience member that the author thought would be an innovative idea but hopes does not encourage heckling from the rest of the watchers of this shit show. “Who” would be the KGB. By that I mean my latino, conservative parents. Turns out they were not fooled by Motrin. That’s an American pill, and Brazilians do not take American pills. “Why do you have motrin?,” [in a heavy Brazilian accent] that’s all it took and I was done. But we’ll get to that.
Voices get closer, “Gabi? Unlock this door.”
GABI: [whining] Fuuuuuuuuck.
Lights go out
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ACT 1, SCENE 2
Parafernalia is removed.
Gabi is now wearing pajamas.
Banging on the door, jumbled voices.
GABI: Let me introduce you to Fernando and Paula, the products of some hellish misdead from my past life. I figure I must be being punished for murder, or delivering a healthy baby Stalin, or inventing drunk driving. They are equally our antagonists, heroes, and this play’s comic relief. They are also parents of an addict, and balls of anxiety.
FERNANDO with a heavy Brazilian accent: Paula, respira M?. She’s not doing anything wrong. She might be masturbating or something.
PAULA: She does not masturbate!
GABI to audience: I masturbate.
PAULA: She is using the drugs Fernando! Abre a porta Gabriela! I can hear her sniffing. She’s SNIFFING THE DRUGS FERNANDO.
FERNANDO: Gabi, please open the door so I don’t get murdered, meu Deus [looks up, hands facing the sky, exasperated].
GABI to audience: Excuse me, I must handle this.
GABI opens the door mid desperate knock, gets hit in the face.
GABI: This is getting ridiculous, we’re resorting to physical violence?
PAULA: Gabriela, if you were your avó’s daughter, you’d be dead by now. Where are the drugs? Tell me and there will be no consequences.
GABI: [to audience] She’s lying. [back to Paula] I’m assuming they are where you left them, Paula my dear.
PAULA: You know where they are? Fernando, she knows, ela sabe. Gabriela, you are going to rehab. I’m shipping you back to Brazil. No, I’m driving you to jail.
GABI: [to audience] She’s lying again. First of all, she doesn’t want me to know other addicts because she hates addicts, so no rehab for me. Secondly, she’s too embarrassed to admit to anyone that I’m an addict, so there’s no way she’s sending me back. That would involve admitting that I’m a degenerate. And finally, I guess she could. I’m two weeks clean, the statute of limitations is five years. But she wouldn’t be able to explain my absence from the Christmas card, so she won’t. [to Paula] Mami, listen to me. I was plucking ingrown hairs from my groin. Ok? Didn’t want to say that out loud. That’s what I was doing.
[silence]
Paula looks at Fernando, he shrugs.
FERNANDO: It’s such a weird excuse she might be telling the truth.
PAULA: She’s taking a drug test. [to GABI] Drug test. Now.
GABI to audience: [sighs] Here we have the humiliating routine of the at home drug test. My mother will grab a sterile cup from her room - oh yes, there she goes [PAULA leaves the stage], but before she comes back she will cry for a minute, so me and my father get to stand here and pretend that’s not happening.
FERNANDO after a beat of silence: So, aside from grooming your groin, how was your day?
GABI to audience: My mom always says “intimacy always ruins a relationship.” I think she means that there is such a thing as knowing too much about someone, or sharing too much about yourself. I think my dad and I are too close. I mean, Beth, would you talk to your dad about grooming your privates? If you were unfortunate enough to have to share that fact because it is preferable to doing drugs, would your dad bring it up again? No, Beth. Your dad stopped hugging you as soon as you got boobs, didn’t he? Yeah, my dad is not like that. He’s my best friend, but sometimes it gets weird. For example, [to Fernando] Yeah I dropped the meanest douce I’ve ever seen. It was the length of my arm. Possibly the same width. [to audience] See?
FERNANDO with an appreciative nod: Ah, nice. Texture? Color?
GABI to audience: I’ll spare you this interaction and bring my mom back. [Paula walks back in, urine cup in hand] What, you thought I was a reliable narrator? What gave it away, the drugs? Please.
PAULA: Ok, no dipping it into the toilet water Gabi. Ok, never mind, I’m going in with you. [Gabi starts to interrupt, but Paula does not let her] Nao, nao, I don’t want the speech about your rights and your privacy. You lost that right. Let’s go [Paula points at the bathroom, waiting for Gabi]
GABI to audience: See? Intimacy ruins relationships.
GABI goes to the bathroom followed by her mother. The lights dim]
FERNANDO confused: When did we get a dimmer?