Dinner Table: A Short Play

A small table is set with two plates, two drinking glasses, and utensils. Clementine, 28, sits on one end. Opposite her, on the other end of the small square table, sits Roger, 28. They begin to help themselves to the food in front of them.

Clementine: I so wanted to tell that bitch to f**k off. All day I sat there, practically begging for work to do - It was the most boring day ever - then, at two minutes to six she calls me into her office.

Roger: You need to stick up for yourself.

Clementine: Just wait. I go into her office and she starts asking me about the reports. Where are the reports, she says. You didn't ask me about any reports, I say. You never told me to do the reports.

Roger: And did she?

Clementine: Did she? Of course she didn't! She didn't ask me to do any reports, and here she is, two minutes before six asking me where they are. So, I tell her that she didn't ask for them, but I'd be happy to do them for her in the morning.

Roger: What a bitch.

Clementine: Me?

Roger: You? No, of course not. Her.

Clementine: I know! So, she goes ahead and proceeds to inform me how my performance levels aren't up to speed. How I need to start thinking like a team player. This bitch takes 2 hour lunches and normally leaves an hour before six. At five f**king o' clock she's out the door. And she has the nerve to tell me I need to stay late and do reports that she didn't even ask me for!

Roger: And today she's there 'til six.

Clementine: And... what? What did you say?

Roger: You said she leaves at five. But today, the bitch stays 'til six.

Clementine: At five fifty eight PM she asked me for reports. Haven't you been listening? No, She didn't stay until six. She left at five fifty eight. Twenty seconds after she demanded I stay late and finish her reports. She just loves to f**k with me. I swear to god, that bitch loves to f**k with me. She makes me so angry.

Roger: Why don't you tell her that?!

Clementine: Roger, I can't just tell my boss that.

Roger: Yes. You can. You need to, for crying out loud. You're just going to be pushed around over and over again. And for what? Some stupid f**king meaningless job.

Clementine: Are you f**king kidding me?

Roger: I didn't mean...

Clementine: Some stupid f**king... mean-ing-less job?

Roger: Oh stop it. I'm just saying you need to stick up for yourself.

Clementine: No. You're saying more than that. I hear what you're saying. God damn it, you don't need to fix everything Roger. Sometimes you can just f**king listen to me. I don't need you to be a f**king hero. I sure as hell don't need you to tell me what to do! Most of all I don't need you telling me I'm meaningless. God damn it, you're worse than she is!

Clementine stands up, furiously she storms out of the room.

Roger's mouth hangs open. He drops his fork on the plate in front of him and draws in a deep breath.

Finis.