There is a land called passive aggressiva
Overview
This piece is a situation comedy with bizarrely honest characters who are fuelled by the mundane. Nameless characters with unexplained relationships take advantage of the infuriatingly slow moving queue to - perhaps too openly - admit what should remain as an internal monologue. The entire 15 minute piece is set inside - and a step outside - the local post office. The main character progression is between characters ‘one’ and ‘two,’ who’s seemingly irrelevant chatter at the opening to the piece is revealed to be sparked by ‘one’s breakup that is uncovered at the end of the piece. One’s emotional turnaround provides the conclusion to the play and is the reason why the audience are watching these characters on this day – the morning after (the breakup.)
Plot and character progression
Characters:
There are 13 characters in total in the play, mostly in pairs with a few ‘conjunctive’ characters. The characters may be doubled as the ‘assistants,’ going from the queue straight to serve the next customer which would add to the farce of the scene.
The characters are identified by numbers, in order of appearance, which also links to their number in the queue. The characters are nameless so people do not make immediately associate the names with people they know and thus do not make assumptions about character including gender. In production, the characters and their relationships are dictated by a director’s interpretation alone. Traverse stage.
Plot
‘One’ and ‘two’ have a bad start to their day, location is unspecified. Mid-way through their dialogue we come to realise they are in a queue. This may be signified by the gradual brightening of lights that branches slowly out from the two in the spotlight, or they may be positioned off stage and ‘enter’ the post office during their conversation. Their seemingly random connection and dialogue is replaced by other random and mundane speech that is passed down the shop queue. The action comes to a head when one of the customers is suspected of holding a bomb. The play ends with ‘one’ and ‘two’ exiting what we now know as the post office, slipping away from the mayhem and ‘one’ revealing the cause of her bad day – the break up.
Character Profiles
(these are pairings are suggestions only)
One and Assistant one:
‘One’: Who: An evidently stressed young 20 something
Today: is seeing the world in red
Assistant ‘one’: Who: a long serving, glue sniffing shop assistant
Today: daydreams about quitting
Two and six:
‘Two’: Who: a blunt, friendly twenty something. (chav?)
Today: left hungry
‘Six’: Who: a naughty nanny whose having a ‘late-life.’
Today: riotous
Five, Ten:
‘Five’: Who: a crass, hard-nosed, no-nonsense except for the words that leave her mouth type 40 year old
Today: disinterested with verbal diarrhoea
‘Ten’: Who: a procrastinator
Today: pointless
Three, four, seven, Assistant two:
‘Three’: Who: a reserved, beige queuer
Today: queuing
‘Four’: Who: a concerned mother of three in her thirties
Today: worn out
‘Seven’: Who: a loud-mouthed girlfriend
Today: oblivious
‘Assistant ‘two’: Who: a gossip
Today: gossiping
Nine:
‘Nine’: Who: an honest pub supervisor
Today: cold turkey
Eight and postman:
‘Eight’: Who: a long-suffering boyfriend
Today: humiliated
Postman: Who: a pernickety jobs worth
Today: a pain in the thumb
Man:
‘Man’: Who: the passive graphic designer
Today: a non-conforming British queuer
There is a land called passive aggressiva
The stage is dark. The audience are sat each side of the thrust facing inwards. As the dialogue begins the lights slowly brighten till both characters are seen in the spotlight. During the course of the dialogue the audience become aware of other characters entering and setting the stage.
One: You know when people say that ridiculous phrase ‘it’s just one of those days?’
Two: Yeah
One: How is it just one of those days?
Two: (wrinkles nose) Well, when you’re standing in shit…
One: But how can it be? It’s like when people say ‘oh someone got out the wrong side of bed this morning.’ I didn’t. I bloody well got out the same bloody side as I do every day of the bloody year
Two: Which side?
One: The right as it happens. The side my slippers are kept
Two: They could be kept on the left
One: Yes but the door is on the right so I can head straight to my morning… Who gives a FLYING MONKEY FUCK IT’S THE RIGHT. And so this day can in no way logically be determined by the way I exit my bed
Two: Did you have a warm shower?
One: Yes. Heavenly
Two: So the water didn’t run cold?
One: No. Ran like a dream
Two: Did you have enough milk?
One: What?
Two: I ran out of milk
One: This morning?
Two: Yeah. Whacked on the Desperate Housewives repeat. Boiled the kettle. Plonked my Weetabix in a bowl. (motions pouring) Pouring the milk. I’m still pouring. It’s stopped coming
One: You ran out of milk?
Two: Yes
One: Had it not covered it?
Two: Not even half. So I’m stuck between a rock and a hard Weetabix because I can’t put it back and pretend it wasn’t my breakfast choice of the day and I can’t attempt to eat the sorry, half sogged biscuit because, quite frankly, dried Weetabix is gagable
One: Gaga…?
Two: Yes
One: Well. Quite the predicament
Two: Quite
One: So did you attempt the milk run?
Two: Oh yeah. Threw on my snuggie and ran to Somerfields
One: In your snuggie?
Two: Yeah
One: You wore a snuggie, outside the house?
Two: Yeah
One: That’s misuse. A travesty
Two: No, it’s not
One: Yes, it is. Snuggie’s are for snuggling on the sofa with dairy lee dunkers and coach trip and your significant other
Two: I don’t have one. (beat) So I’m double wrapped in my snuggie and running like the wind with my magnificent cape and into the fields of somer I go and enter like the second messiah
One: Magnificent
Two: It was
One: So you rectified the milk situation?
Two: No
One: No?
Two: No. Some old biddy was arguing that the oranges weren’t from Spain
One: Ah. (beat) makes sense
(the lights come up to reveal the three counters at the front of the thrust. A queue has now formed behind ‘two.’ Automated voice is heard – ‘number 3 please.’ ‘One’ walks to counter. ‘Two’ turns to person behind)
Two: It says on the box you know
Three: Know what?
Two: The box it comes in
Three: Sorry?
Two: Clearly shows on the back in the right hand corner a picture of the family outside taking a stroll in their snuggies. Outdoor wear see?
Three: Yes
Two: Indoor and outdoor wear. Multi-functional
Three: Okay
Two:(beat) Joyce Martin?
Three: Sorry?
Two: Who’s Joyce Martin?
Three: My sister
Two: Ah I see. (beat) fan of the hills?
Three: We don’t watch reality TV
Two: No. What? Oh no I meant your sister, (points to the letter) Hillsborough?
Three:Oh I see. (snaps letter back) its pleasant enough
Two:Yes. Fresh air. Fresh dew. Fresh shit
Three: Sorry?
Two:(muses) angry swans
Three: Sorry?
Two: It’s not reality though
Three: What isn’t?
(‘three’ slips away to counter while ‘two’ is lost in their thoughts, ‘two’ turns to assistant ‘one.’)
Two: It’s scripted
Assistant one: What is?
Two: Misleading statement to call it reality wouldn’t you say?
(automated voice calls ‘number 1 please.’ Two goes to counter. Elongated silence in the queue. ‘Four’ leans forward to pick up the tablets she has dropped in front of ‘five.’ Assistant ‘one’ bends with her to pick up the glue stick that has fallen from her pocket. An awkward look is exchanged between assistant ‘one’ and ‘four,’ assistant ‘one’ covers by helping with the tablets. Assistant ‘one’ resumes tidying the card display, as ‘four’ goes to stand she becomes awkwardly attached to ‘Five.’)
Four: ARGH oh, er, excuse me. I’m caught. Ah. Ah. Ah. Ah. (taken by surprise) Oh Dina?
Five: (suddenly realising) Oh hi K..er..oh I’m so sorry. Here stay still – how are you darling?
Four: Yeah, I’m, oh, er, ow. Ow. OW. Good. Just visited OW the hospital.
Five: Yes. Nice. You do look ill
Four: ARGH oh. (finally detached) Thank you.
Five: Well, you’re most welcome …
Four: Kather
Five: erine. Yes. Delightful. How long did they keep you in for?
Four: Oh. No. I’m fine. Fit as a fiddle.
Five: (unconvinced) clearly
Four: I meant to visit our girls, in fact, I’m kinda glad I ran into you, though not literally, er, I’ve been meaning to come in to the off…
Five: You have?
Four: Yes, well I thought I should apologise
Five: Did you?
Four:(taken aback) well, yes because I feel partly responsible for the girls’….
Five: Do you?
Four:(struggling) yes. Because if I hadn’t had that blazing row with Becca she may well, certainly wouldn’t have driven off like that with your Kel and they wouldn’t have been lying in hospital right now…
Five: She wouldn’t
Four: No. (beat) I’m so/sorry
Five: I’m grateful
Four: I know/ what?
Five: Yes
Four: You’re?
Five: Yes
Four: I’m sorry run that by me again
Five: Your part is irrelevant. She attracts trouble. The child’s a hazard zone. A walking catastrophe. A disaster. Not quite a mistake, I’m incapable of those. She’s merely faulty. (muses) However, having no guarantee I’m unable to return her.
Four:(uneasily) she’s doing well
Five:(under her breath) damn
Four:(uncomfortably) doctors say 6-8 weeks. She should make a full recovery
Five: Right. That’ll be mmm (scrolls through blackberry) what date will that be?
Four: The fou…r…teen…th?
Five: Correct. (typing) hospital. See K. 14th. Fabulous.(winces) I hate hospitals. Ghastly interiors. Thoughtless designers on the NHS
Four: Uh-huh
(automated voice is heard, ‘number 7 please’)
Five: (suddenly bored) Look, this has been pleasant. Shall we say lunch …next (reluctant to commit to a date) time?
Four:(hesitates, they aren’t really friends)
Five:(laughs richly) of course, let’s keep it to awkward passings at the annual parents meeting. (suddenly serious) unless of course you choose to fuck up my spawn again?
Four:(stutters)
Five: Darling, I’m absolutely yanking your chain (pulls her close) next time get her nose it’ll save a job (pushes her away to counter, turns to six, an elderly lady. Somewhat defensively - apprehensive of judgement- she explains herself to the whole queue) People say why did you choose to have kids? I didn’t choose. She chose. She chose to be. I was none the wiser. I have a strong constitution so the so called morning warnings didn’t materialise and at the time I was suffering from a severe Mexicana cheese addiction and didn’t think twice about my swelling. Unfortunately at the time it coincided with my gym strike (against, Dougie, you know at FitFreaks? Sweaty little runt who tried to…) anyway, so when the doctor diagnosed me it was quite simply too late and I was told it may do more harm to me to attempt to take anything for it so I smoked it out. She was an odd bundle of derangement the minute she’d somewhat begrudgingly left my womb. Didn’t cry much actually, rather quiet…dim. No, I was the one crying… inside. (beat) I find it an insult to say like mother like daughter. It insults both my beauty and intelligence and is far too generous to hers.
(automated voice, ‘number 1 please’)
Six:(old lady pipes up behind Five) my Carrie was much the same. Ugly little blighter and thick as two planks (five walks to checkout.)
(A couple approach the queue arguing furiously)
Seven: That is completely unreasonable. I do make an effort, lots of efforts, and try and please you and not have headaches. And just because I don’t want to do that. That one thing. Dangerous thing. It can paralyse you you know. No, no don’t start, I don’t see why I should (turns to old lady) he’s trying to force me, make me, I have right to say no, right? (Exasperated) did you like anal sex?
(automated voice, ‘number 2 please’)
Six: It’s like hard boiled eggs my love, not disagreeable, but never the preference (hobbles away to counter)
Eight: I can’t believe you just
Seven: What
Eight: You’re unbelievable
Seven: What
(automated voice ‘number 1 please’)
How many prageos do we want?
Eight: The what?
Seven: Prageos. The….whatever, you know what I mean
Eight: Koruna? Czech koruna?
Seven: Whatever
(automated voice ‘NUMBER 1 PLEASE.’
Seven and eight: (in an angry unison) COMING
(more silence in the queue, a bloke is tapping furiously at the queue bar. After several moments they make a beat and a harmony in the queue. They each take notes from the beginning intro to funky town. Awkward silence follows. Nine resumes his tapping. Assistant one steps forward)
Assistant one: I’m going to have to ask you to leave the queue if you insist on…
Nine: It’s habit. It’s just a matter of breaking the habit. (beat) I’ve got a nicotine addiction. (sympathetic nods in the queue)
Assistant one: That’s neither here nor there
Nine: But it’s been nearly three weeks (some more nods of approval)
It’s just about finding something else to hold. To tap.To take my mind off it. It’s just habit now. I lost the addiction in the first 48 hours, the hard bit is kicking the habit to the curb. Every time I sit behind the steering wheel, drink coffee, get a lunch break, have a banana, drink, have a pineapple.
Assistant one: Sir, please, I don’t care…
Nine: That’s why I’m here. I get half hour’s break, in fact a break every half hour at work because I’m a smoker so it’s my right see? See you don’t get a break to read the newspaper, to phone your mum, to play worms, to get fresh air. No. when we are rammed, the only break your granted is if you have an addiction. See? So I had to come here, said we needed to change money for the float. It’s a ploy see, to distract me (the assistant has by now wandered off and is seen smoking a fag through the window)
(automated voice ‘number 2 please’)
(a man who has been quietly queuing all the while, decides to bypass the seemingly oblivious queue. As he gets to the counter, two women are gossiping with the OUT OF SERVICE SIGNS up. There is only one other counter still open. He waits patiently.)
Assistant one: Did you hear about Deana’s kid? His latest antics?
Assistant two: With the cock ring he stole from her as his precious?
Assistant one: No. He thought he found Frodo on his way home from school.
(‘man’ knocks on the window. A postman is seen rummaging behind the women)
Man: Excuse me
Assistant two: Oh, is this why he was covered in scratches?
Assistant one: Yeah. She found Frodo locked in her downstairs cupboard. The dwarf has threatened to press charges.
Man: Excuse me
Assistant two: Imagine the headline. ‘Child abducts adult on his way home from school.’
Man: This package is going to blow up
(Postman who has rummaging behind the women turns)What?
Man: Finally, can I get this sent to
Postman: NO. no you may not sir, ladies stand up, stand back
Man: What? No I was just trying to
(emergency alarm sounds. This is a small bell that the assistant manually rings, whilst repeating in an automated voice ‘Suspicious items please vacate’)
Man: No please I was just trying to get some service round here
(the queue begins to get panicked. Some believe it some don’t.)
Postman: Sir I need you to step away from the package
Man: But it’s just a yes. Yes. My auntie’s sewing kit is an explosive. Yes. Yes. You got me.
Postman: Sir, you have made a serious statement, that is to be taken with the uppermost seriousness, and can, if deemed so, lead to serious repercussions from here on out.
Man: What does that even mean?
Postman: Sir, if you’d please to come with me
Man: No. Absolutely not. This is an outrage. YOU are an outrage. THIS IS A DIABOLICAL MISUNDERSTANDING OF IDIOCY
Postman: You are entitled to your own view, however I must remind you that whatever you say may be held…
Man: What the. What? WHAT WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?
Postman: I am soon to be the Senior Postal Driver…
Man: Imbecile
Assistant two: this isn’t a joke. I thought he looked dodgy when he came in
Assistant one: I know. Happened round the corner in Binkys last month, no-one’s safe.
Man: Okay, what possible reason have I got to blow this place to smithereens? Please don’t tear the wrapping it’s M&S, its expensive
Ten: Excuse me (with no avail tries again) Ahem, ExCUSE me!
Assistant two: it’s a ploy! A ploy!
Assistant one: Sir you can’t smoke in here! Put that out immediately!
(Six turns to nine, as she goes to make her escape)
Six:(nods to scooter parked outside the window)It’s my accomplice in crime. My stealthy get away. I’m just an innocent biddy with a memory that fails me (wink) these are the best years of my life. I’m letting my stiff upper lip down and saying and doing according to the law of me. (beat)(flashes the large stack of postal goods in her bag that she has accumulated in the queue)
Nine: It’s my birthday tomorrow.
Six: Oh, on a leap year. Here (pulls out a card)
Nine: I’m eight
(‘six’ hobbles to the door, as she purposely wobbles nine catches her arm, he offers her a drag of his fag and they exit)
Ten: STOP THIS CUFFEL
(the postman and man are silenced)
Ten: I’d like to file a complaint
Postman: I see. Because?
Ten: I’ve been here for thirteen minutes and (waits for the second hand on the clock) fifteen seconds
Postman: I see. I do sincerely apologise for the delay sir, what exactly can I do for you?
Ten: Me? I don’t need anything from you. I just would like to make a formal complaint against the postal service of the United Kingdom for the duration of their queues.
Postman: Once again, I do apologise comrade, but what is it you queued for?
Ten: I didn’t.
Postman: You…?
Ten: I was making a point
Postman: You were?
Ten: Yes and I’ve made it. I queued to highlight the absurdity of the queue, now I’m late for Barclays
(during this dialogue ‘man’ has escaped and the queue has resumed)
(one and two are walking out the post office. One has been at the only available counter since entering)
One: (pulling strands of her hair) You know how the news opens with, ‘Good morning.’
Two: Yes
One: ‘Good evening.’
Two: Yes
One: Well it’s not, is it?
Two: It’s not?
One: They say ‘good evening’ and then proceed to tell you why it’s not
Two: Mm. (glances at the white hair) You going to go home and…
One: Yeah
Two: Better had
One: Yeah
Two: They say it’s good luck?
One: Oh I’ll go check it out in the mirror and shatter it shall i?
Two: That is completely non sensical. (beat) You can shower at mine if need be?
One: He should be at work by now I suppose so…(pause)You know, today is one of those days where you wake up and realise you can choose your side of the bed. (wells up slightly) I miss his ridiculously deep inhalations, his scratchy pillow of a beard. I miss falling down the toilet seat and chow mein splatters on my bedsheets. I miss…having someone to shout at and… blame for how shit my day’s been. (pause) I’ve…it’s…somewhere along the way….somehow I’ve… lost him. It’s…shit.
Two: It’s shit right now (pats the remains of the birdpoo) But it won’t be everyday
A bird won’t get you everyday.
(They walk together. A silent agreement has passed between them)
One: You better not snore
Two: No but I do sleep on the right
One: No!
Two: Tough shit
