Espresso

ESPRESSO – NO SUGAR, NO CREAM

GLORIA, a woman in her early fifties wearing a suit, enters the room. There is a table with two chairs. A pot of coffee and two cups sits on the table. GLORIA speaks to the audience.

GLORIA
You want to have a cup of coffee with me? Well, I’ll sit with you. I’ll be glad to get off of my feet. Just look at them. The right one, you see how fat it is? (kicks off her right shoe) I’ve been walking all over the city. Twelve interviews this week. I was determined. I wasn’t going to stop until I had a job. (looking down at her feet) The left one doesn’t seem to mind. Funny, isn’t it? (puts her shoe back on and sits down.) Mmmmm. It’s good to sit down. (pushes coffee cup away). Oh no. No coffee for me. I’m wired enough today. I got the job, did I mention that? Number twelve was the one. I’m going to be a manager at Wrigley Field. A stand manager, they call it. I gave a good interview. One of them told me I was going straight to Hollywood. (laughs) At the end, when they asked me if I had any questions, I told them that I’d done my research and knew about their company and their policies so I didn’t have many questions, just one. And I looked up at them like so (looks earnestly) and I took a little pause to set the tone. (A dramatic pause). And then I hit them with it: “Do I have the job?” Well if that didn’t put them on the spot! They turned to each other, as if they didn’t know what to do with themselves. One shrugged and the other said, “Well, I suppose you do.” I shook their hands and thanked them. Not too enthusiastically. Real confident, collected. (mimes shaking hands). “Thank you. It’s going to be a pleasure working with your company.” And that’s when he said, “You’re going straight to Hollywood, you know that?” (Laughs. Shakes her head. A moment passes.) Who knows? I just might. This is just the beginning of my winning streak. (pushes the coffee even further away). So no coffee for me today. Haven’t had a single sip, not even this morning, and just look at me… As wired as if I’d drunk an entire pot. Only difference is that I’m not shaking. Coffee will do that to you. Make you shake something terrible. Especially espresso. Coffee mud is it what that is. Oh do I remember the first time I tried that…

Settles in at the table differently as if in a fancy restaurant.

GLORIA
I must have been about 25. My boyfriend at the time, Dalé – that’s Nigerian, -- he had family in town and we were meeting them somewhere fancy because his people were sophisticated, educated. The Crabhouse, I believe was the name of it. Down on Hubbard. I think it’s still there. I was nervous. You only get one chance to make a first impression and I wanted to make a good one. Now his family didn’t know it, but Dalé and I, we were living together at that time and had been talking about getting married. Dalé was special, he made me feel special when I was with him. I didn’t want him to get away. I saw a future with these people and I wanted them to like me. I remember not knowing what to say, being a bit tongue-tied and just looking around at the other customers. A few of them were drinking coffee out of these pretty little cups. They were so cute. And then the waiter came to take our drink orders.

WAITER enters with a notepad and pen.

WAITER
Ma’am?

GLORIA
Yes?

WAITER
What could I bring you to drink?

GLORIA
Oh… I think I’ll just have one of those. (points to the other table) A coffee, like that.

WAITER
You’d like an espresso?

GLORIA (to audience)
I should have stopped right there when I saw the expression on his face, wondering why I was ordering something I obviously didn’t know anything about. (to WAITER)
Yeah, yeah. An espresso. Yes, one of those. Please.

WAITER
Yes, ma’am.

WAITER exits.

GLORIA (to audience now)
But I didn’t. (shakes head) Don’t know why I didn’t just stick to what I knew instead of trying to impress people with what I didn’t. But that was me… never knew when to stop. Later when I was on the streets, they used to call me “the no-limit soldier.” Drugs, prostitution -- I had to have mine and nothing would stop me. I’d be out there in my tennis shoes in 18-inches of snow if I heard there was something to be had. 24-hours a day, didn’t matter. Didn’t matter until it caught up with me.

WAITER enters with the espresso.

WAITER
Espresso for you.

GLORIA
Thank you.

WAITER
Would you like sugar with that?

GLORIA
Oh no. No sugar. I’m trying to watch my figure.

WAITER
Okay... Enjoy.

WAITER exits.

GLORIA (to audience again now)
There was that expression on his face again. If only I’d have taken the hint. But not me. Not the old Gloria. I had to learn my lessons the hard way. Had to make mistakes again and again. (bea) So there I was with my pretty little coffee. My espresso. I’d always been curious about what that was and now I finally had one in my hand. So I went for it. Took a nice big gulp. (She takes a sip and then holds it in her mouth for a moment, surprised. She becomes self-conscious and finally swallows). Believe me, if I could have spat that out of my mouth I would have, but it was neither the time nor place. I tried to recollect myself. Downed an entire glass of water, but the grit was still on my teeth. What the heck kind of coffee was that, I remember thinking. It didn’t make any sense to me how something so pretty could taste so bad. Looks are often deceiving, but I hadn’t learned that lesson yet. Oh no, I was always making quick assumptions about people, thinking I knew everything. (shakes her head) Youth. It’s true that it’s wasted on the young. You don’t know anything when you’re young. (A moment) I used to think people who were homeless were lazy. Thought, why don’t they just go get a job, do something for themselves? Never in a million years did I think that would be me. I looked at them as derelict, nasty, dirty, uneducated – how could they not be looking like that? I found out quite the opposite when I became homeless. Met people from all walks of life and learned that many of them had homes, careers – they’d been doctors, lawyers – but they’d lost everything, like me. (beat) Never judge a book by its cover.

By the time the dinner came, that wicked sludge had gone straight to my head. I’d been nervous before but now my nerves were down right crawling. Of course, now I know you’re supposed to sip espresso but back then I didn’t know much. I thought I did, but life was always real good at proving me wrong. (beat) I lost him eventually -- Dalé. We were together for years, got married, had a son, but eventually my lifestyle sent him away, right back to Nigeria. He took our son with him. Barely even ten years old. (a moment). Struggle is a part of life. No one’s exempt. (beat) Those aren’t days I like to remember.

WAITER brings a plate and silverware.

GLORIA
I tried to eat my beautiful meal but my hands started shaking and the china clanked loudly on the plate (clanks silverware on the plate). Dalé and his family tried not to stare, but I could tell they were all sneaking peaks at me thinking I was one of those (with a Nigerian accent) “crazy Americans.” That made it all the worse. I hid my hands under the table, but then I couldn’t eat. I kept thinking they’d stop shaking, but they only got worse. I was hungry and I wanted to taste that fine food but I didn’t know how to do that in my predicament. I was still trying to figure it out when that he showed up again.

WAITER comes to clear her dishes.

WAITER
I’ll just take this out of your way…

GLORIA
No. I’m not finished– (puts her hand up to stop him, but her is hand is so shaky that it knocks the plate out of his grasp. It tumbles to the floor.) Oh, I’m so sorry!


WAITER (cleaning up the mess)
It’s okay. It happens all of the time.

GLORIA (to the audience)
But I knew that it didn’t. I tried to clean up the mess. Make things at least a little better. (she gets out of her chair and picks up the plate). But he wouldn’t let me. (Waiter tries to take the plate from her and freezes) Just like society. They’ll let you out of jail with nothing but 10 dollars. Nowhere to go, nowhere to sleep. And good luck finding a job once they do a background check. Just last month, all this time later, I received a letter from a job saying that due to things in my background “There wasn’t a position for me at this time.” It was for El Loco Poco, The Crazy Chicken. It’s a taco stand. (beat) I tore that letter up. (a moment) The system doesn’t work. A person has to eat, so what are they going to do if they can’t get a job? Prison shouldn’t be a revolving door. (She tugs on the plate).

WAITER (trying to take the plate)
It’s okay.

GLORIA (not letting go of the plate)
It’s my mess.

WAITER (not letting go of the plate)
I’ve got it.

GLORIA (not letting go of the plate)
I can clean it up.

WAITER
Really. I’ve got it. (He tugs the plate away from her).


GLORIA (to audience again)
I remember sitting back in my chair, mashed potatoes on my shaking hands, facing his family and wishing I was Bewitched so I could have disappeared. (beat) But you can’t ever disappear just like you can’t ever undo what’s been done. All you can do is stop feeling sorry for yourself. Face life on life’s terms. Do the best you can. Know that there’s hope, there’s life, there’s change. That’s the name of the non-profit I’m starting. Hope, Life, Change Inc. It’s going to help women who have been incarcerated with recitivism – connect them to places that will help them stay out of the cycle. (looks at her foot) The swelling’s going down. It’s still puffy, but it’s getting better. This was a nice little rest, thank you. (puts on her shoe). I’ve come a long way and I’ve still got a long way to go. Hollywood’s not close, you know.

She stands up and starts to walk away but notices something on the table and picks it up. It is a WAITER’s notebook full of cash. She raises her hand to get attention. The WAITER, dressed in different apron (he is from the present restaurant) enters.

WAITER
Can I help you?

GLORIA
I think you left something at my table.

She hands him his folder. He accepts it, shocked.

WAITER
This is the restaurant’s money. I left this here? I’m such an idiot. This would have gotten me fired for sure. I can’t believe how stupid I am.

GLORIA
You don’t look like an idiot to me. It’s just something you did, it’s not who you are.

She pats his shoulder and exits.

WAITER
Thank you! I owe you one!

GLORIA (from offstage)
Nah, it’s on the house.

And... we're up.

As promised, here is our place to log our experiences at Inspiration Cafe. Since we're going to be a bigger group now, seems like this is the best way to connect with everyone and share interactions, impressions and ideas so we can continue building the play. I'm hoping that each time someone goes to Inspiration, they'll write a post so we can have a thorough record. Since I'm no longer able to make those visits, I'm planning on posting things from notes I have already taken as well as scenes and I'm working on and any new contact I have with the guests there (James Harris 2-- who referred to himself as "the Sergeant" already called me leaving a voice mail that said he would "catch the next connecting flight to Seattle should I be in need of any writing assistance.")

Thank you for being a part of this project.

See you here soon!

janis