The Blue Room

A Mini-drama
by
Trusty Editor Croftie

Photograph by
The Germanatrix






CHARACTERS
Mr. Smith a man in his late fifties
Joe a man in his late twenties

Scene 1

MR. SMITH is standing at the urinal. The door opens. JOE ENTERS. The men are preoccupied and do not see each other. JOE looks up, sees MR. SMITH, and turns to leave.

MR. SMITH
(Looks up)
Joe! How long have you been here?

JOE
I was just leaving.

MR. SMITH
I meant here at the company. Six years now?

JOE goes to the furthest urinal away from MR. SMITH. He unzips.

JOE
Five, actually. Only five.

MR. SMITH
I was just thinking—I don’t tell you often enough that I appreciate you.

JOE
Thank you.
(Zips up without using the urinal)

MR. SMITH
(Advances toward JOE)
I’d like to show you my appreciation.

JOE
Could it wait until later?

MR. SMITH
I want to speak to you now. Where it’s private.
(Pause)
I had to let Jim go today.

JOE
I thought he quit.

MR. SMITH
No. I let him go… Did he tell you why?

JOE
No.

MR.SMITH
Good. You’re not supposed to talk to someone who’s been fired, anyway. We sent him straight home and we’ll ship his things to him later. Security reasons.

JOE
I know.

MR.SMITH
Look Joe, I need a good man to fill Jim’s position. And you’re the first man I saw this morning.
(Laughs)
That was a joke.

JOE
(Laughs nervously)

MR. SMITH
Don’t take everything so seriously. Except your job. You should always take your job seriously. I want to make you senior director.

JOE
Oh… thank you. I appreciate the offer. But I should discuss this with Sarah.

MR. SMITH
What’s to discuss? You’ll have an office. Wouldn’t you like an office?

JOE
I’m really not sure.

MR. SMITH
Since when does a man have to discuss his career with his girlfriend?

JOE
She’s my fiancée.

MR. SMITH
So?

JOE
It’s just that… I’m not sure how much longer we’ll be in Chicago. We’re getting married next month and we’re planning to move to the East Coast.

MR. SMITH
I see.

JOE
I’m sorry.

MR. SMITH
I’m disappointed in you, Joe. I should let you go right now.

JOE
Look, I need to start doing what I want to do. I need to start writing…

MR. SMITH
That’s not much of a career.

JOE
I’m almost thirty. When am I ever going to get to do what I want to do?

MR. SMITH
Life isn’t about getting what you want. Marriage is definitely not about getting what you want. I’m sure Sarah would agree.

JOE
She’s supportive.

MR. SMITH
Her father’s a lawyer. When you’re a writer, will he be proud to call you “son”?

JOE
Hey, hold on a minute.

MR. SMITH
(Puts his arm around JOE’S shoulders. A fatherly gesture.)
I don’t think you’ve thought this through. Are you sure you want to be tied down right now?

JOE
I’ve got to get back to my desk.
(Turns to leave)

MR. SMITH
That’s right. Turn your back. Just like you did to Ben.

JOE
He left me!

MR. SMITH
Are you too good for us? Is that it? I’ll tell you something—this company was good enough for Ben.

JOE
I’m not like my father.

MR. SMITH
You’re right. Your father was a good man. He paid for that fancy college you went to. And he sent you with our money. Now you’re too good for us? You owe me.

JOE
I don’t owe you anything. And you don’t know anything about my father.

MR. SMITH
Give me one good reason, Joe—just one reason you’re too good for this company.

JOE
I hate it. There. My father hated this place, and I hate it, too. I hate coming to work every morning. I hate swiping my card at the back door and walking down that gray hallway. I hate staring at the computer. I hate the people who work here. I hate sitting in my cubicle with nothing to do for nine hours until it’s time to go home. And I hate how bad I feel when I finally leave at the end of the day. And I hate going home because I know I’ll just have to come back tomorrow. I hate it. I can’t stay here. My father stuck it out until he died. I don’t even know how I’ve lasted five years.

MR. SMITH
Well.
(Pause)
Congratulations on your wedding. I’ll box up your things and have them sent to you in the morning.

MR. SMITH EXITS. JOE stands quietly for a long pause. Then he smiles and begins to leap about in absolute joy.

FADE OUT

Scene 2

SARAH is sitting at the kitchen table with the phone book. She’s taking notes on a legal pad.

JOE ENTERS, in the process of removing his tie. Dumps his coat over a chair.


JOE
(Kisses SARAH on the cheek)
I’ve got news. Great news. Actually, it might not be great news right now, but it will be.

SARAH
Hang up your coat.

JOE
I will.

SARAH
No you won’t. I always have to hang up your coat for you.

JOE
If I hang up my coat, can I tell you my news?
(Pause)
I’ll hang it up.
(Starts to leave the room)

SARAH
I’ll do it later. I want to show you something.

JOE
Can it wait? I wanted to talk to you.

SARAH
No.

JOE goes to SARAH and sits beside her. SARAH pushes the legal pad toward him.

SARAH
I’ve made a list of realtors.

JOE
I thought we discussed this.

SARAH
Will you ever be ready?

JOE
That’s not fair.

SARAH
Married people buy houses.

JOE
We’re not married yet. Let’s do that first.

SARAH
It took you long enough to ask me. I can’t wait six years for everything.

JOE
What if I get a job in Boston?

SARAH
I like Chicago. And you have a job here.

JOE
It’s not a good job.

SARAH
I found a house on Lincoln. It has two bedrooms.

JOE
We don’t need two bedrooms. What’s wrong with this apartment?

SARAH
It’s too small. We need a second bedroom.

JOE
No one ever visits.

SARAH
They will soon.

JOE
No one will visit newlyweds. They’d be too uncomfortable. Would you want visitors?

SARAH
I think I would. I’d like the room to be a light blue. Maybe I’ll paint clouds on the ceiling so that when you wake up you’ll think you’ve become a bird.

JOE
We can paint here, if you want.

SARAH
Remember the bedroom I showed you in that country homes magazine? The furniture was white and the trim was white and the walls were blue. Everything looked clean and simple.

JOE
What’s this all about?

SARAH
It had a window that overlooked the mountains and the room was so light. I don’t like windows that face brick walls. Like our bedroom window. The house I found on Lincoln is next to a park.

JOE
SARAH, we just can’t afford to buy a house right now. You know that.

SARAH
My father would help us. Maybe as a wedding present.

JOE
I can’t accept that kind of gift. We need to do this on our own.

SARAH
We can’t! We can’t do any of it on our own.

JOE
Not right now, maybe. But we will.

SARAH
When? Not now. Not when we’re still renting this same apartment and working entry-level jobs and eating frozen dinners. You can’t even hang up your clothes.

JOE
Is that really what you think of me?

SARAH
I need you to hang up your clothes.

JOE
I will, if it bothers you that much.

SARAH
It’s not just the clothes.

JOE
What? What is it, then?

SARAH
I need you to look at that house with me.

JOE
I’ll look, if it’s that important to you. But we’ll just look.

SARAH
It is important.
(Pause)
And will you help me paint the room blue?

JOE
Sarah…

SARAH
Guests like blue. It’s calming. And a calming room is good for babies, I’ve heard.

JOE
No one will visit us. And we don’t know anyone who has a baby.

SARAH
Our baby can sleep there.

JOE
We have a while to think about that.

SARAH
No, we don’t.

JOE
(Pause)
Do you mean… Is that what the second room is for?

SARAH
(Pause)
Do you think the baby will like blue?

JOE
Oh God. Why didn’t you tell me?
(Long pause)
I have to go back to the office.

SARAH
Now?

JOE
Immediately. I’ve got to. I’m sorry. I have to fix this.

SARAH
Joe…

JOE
I’ve got to go.
(Kisses SARAH on the forehead)
I’ll be back.

SARAH
It’s a nice house, Joe.

JOE
We’ll look at it this weekend.

FADE OUT

CURTAIN