Pillow Talk: a short play

Sex is funny. If serious I lose interest and the wood.


THE REST OF IT GOES HERE

Pillow Talk
Following a pre-coital mishap Peggy and Gilbert lie in bed facing away from each other. On the nightstand are two plastic bottles of comparable size. KY jelly sealed shut; Gillette after-shave lotion, lid flipped up, oozing a bubble. In dim light Peggy bites her lip, wincing in pain. Gilbert bites his lip, ashamed.
Peggy: Just hold me.
Gilbert: (obeying) I’m sorry.
Peggy: You should be.
Gilbert: Does it still--
Peggy: The burning has mostly passed. (massages her crotch, bites her lip)
Gilbert: I should’ve
Peggy: Can we stop talking about it?
Gilbert: (hand cupped about her breast, feeling the rabbit-beat of her heart) Are you ok?
Peggy: Let’s try to get some sleep, ok?
Gilbert: Ok, I love you.
Peggy: No more oks. Just hold me (bites her lip) Good night.
Gilbert: I understand, Peg. (turns away from her) Good night.
Peggy: (her voice rising) Do you? Your balls ever set on fire?
Gilbert: I meant that I understand we have the weight of the world on us. That’s the problem with language! It’s always open to interpretation and imagined meanings.
Peggy: I don’t wanna talk right now. Ok? (a pause) It’s a problem with conversation, not language. Our words aren’t to blame for misunderstandings--we are.
Gilbert: (kisses the back of her head) You’re right. Women always are.
Peggy: (turning violently to face him) Don’t start that bullshit with me, Gilbert. I’m sorry you’ve only been with shitty women. (her voice softens) I’m an individual, Gilbert. Don’t lump me into your memory’s mix of harlots. That’s not fair. I don’t confuse you with my father or the frat boys I’ve fucked.
Gilbert: What?
Peggy: Do you believe there’s a God, Gilbert?
Gilbert: (reeling, trying to stay cool) On mushrooms once. Not so sure now. (pause) I’ve slouched through life.
Peggy: I used to have a shallow understanding of what “open-minded” meant. I now realize that one must be open to questioning all assumptions about reality with the further understanding that the term “reality” is really just another meaningless category like “religion” or “God.”
Gilbert: (softly) Or “love.”
Peggy: Yes, it’s just a word used to represent a complex constellation of shifting, often contradictory feelings. But it’s a lovely word.
Gilbert: Attachment may be more helpful--and that’s how I feel towards you--attached.
Peggy: And I you.
Gilbert: I’ll take those three words to bed, though you won’t say the three preferred.
Peggy: (wincing with hands clasped to her crotch) Asshole! (pause) You have a sophomoric desire to be right, don’t you?
Gilbert: I’m not a perfect man.
Peggy: (tickling his ribs, giggling) Finally the truth.
Gilbert: You’re not perfect either!
Peggy: Never accuse a woman of imperfection, young man. You’ve a lot to learn.
Gilbert: You’re a goddess!
Peggy: Make it KY next time. You’ll see.
Gilbert: Did you like my poems?
Peggy: Reading them, I wanted to bear your children.
Gilbert: When I think of children I think of mistakes.
Peggy: So do I (pause) but you make me feel touched by something tender and dirty and sadly precious. (snuggles against his chest) You struggle between worlds. I admire that.
Gilbert: I need a meaningful life if not a happy one.
Peggy: Together happy? Maybe we can?
Gilbert: Think we can?
Peggy: I hope so.
Gilbert: (whispering) I love you.
Peggy: Good grief! Let’s sleep! (darkness)