smithsmith

THE TRUE DRUG STORIES OF JIM SIMPSON #4: MDMA

In News, Plays on November 8, 2012 at 10:07 PM

The following text was performed at The Flea Theater, October 4-6, as part of Serials, an episodic late night theatre event where the top three (of five) serialized stage plays return the following week. Episode Five: Marijuana will play November 8-10 @ The Flea.

Jim Simpson

Sigourney Weaver

Christopher Walken

Hostess

Suicide Girl

JIM:            Let me tell you about the last time I did ecstacy.

CHRIS:       I had sold a little in college.

JIM:            I was a busboy and sometimes the hostess would say:

HOSTESS:  Hey Jim come out back near the garbage cans.

CHRIS:       And by the garbage cans would be the hostess with a bag of a hundred ecstasy pills.

HOSTESS:  I would tell him the price.

JIM:            Then she’d take it outta my tips.

CHRIS:       And suddenly everyone in the theatre department was having a better Friday Saturday.

JIM:            It’s not like the weak-ass Friday Saturdays you have now.

CHRIS:       We used to get fucked.

JIM:            This generation has more tolerance for gays and races and loves the environment.

CHRIS:       But my generation just had better and more drugs all the time.

JIM:            But the last time?

CHRIS:       Ecstasy?

JIM:            Maybe fifteen years ago.

CHRIS:       Chris had invited me to drinks.

JIM:            Chris doesn’t drink of course.

CHRIS:       I don’t have a stomach for alcohol.

JIM:            He’d always say.

CHRIS:       He’d always be buying the ladies drinks and himself drinking nothing.

JIM:            Which I always thought was questionable.

SIG:           Oh Chris just likes to have a good time.

CHRIS:       Is what Sigourney would say.

JIM:            Sigourney and I had been dating for two months but it wasn’t official.

SIG:           We hadn’t officially said boyfrienndgirlfriend.

CHRIS:       And her back at home.

JIM:            And me out with drinks with Chris and some girl.

CHRIS:       (in middle of story) … and I turned around and said to him Standin? I’m Walken.

GIRL:         Yeah directors can be such bitches.

JIM:            This girl was from my hometown Seattle.

GIRL:         Everett actually.

CHRIS:       Everett’s a suburb.

JIM:            People from Seattle really love each other.

GIRL:         We can talk about the installation of the new sculpture park,

JIM:            or the fact that since we went to college the bum population has increased,

GIRL:         or that Cornish College For The Arts has taken over a majority of the real estate downtown,

JIM:            or that the motherfucking monorail still isn’t built though we voted for it five fucking times

GIRL:         or about how she’s part of a suicide girls photography collective based out of an abandoned textile factory off Yesler and First.

JIM:            or about the fact that she’s smuggled six tabs of ecsatsy into New York City John F Kennedy Airport from our aforementioned hometown and is now presenting them in her sweating white palm.

GIRL:         I look up at her face.

JIM:            Smiles.

CHRIS:       I was really fucking up Walken’s thing.

JIM:            This was Walken’s girl.

CHRIS:       Are you sure you and your new girlfriend Sigourney don’t have anything to do?

GIRL:         And I said,

JIM:            We’re not yet boyfriendgirlfriend.

GIRL:         Then what are you?

JIM:            Hmn?

GIRL:         Who is it that you are now?

JIM:            An ecstacy tab tastes like bad chalk.

CHRIS:       We washed the tabs down sharing a baby-powder-tasting energy drink.

GIRL:         And then we’re in a cab.

JIM:            This girl –

GIRL:         Whose name is Sarah Raven –

JIM:            Sits between Chris and I.

CHRIS:       And there’s something about being in a car when you’re getting high.

JIM:            Higher and higher.

GIRL:         The scenery blurring past like you paid the cabbie to animate the landscape.

JIM:            And she’s touching my hair.

CHRIS:       She’s touching Jim’s hair.

JIM:            She’s touching the nape of my neck and I can feel the bones of her skeleton fall in love with the fingers on her palm and whispering:

GIRL:         I’m the city’s keeper.

JIM:            And she’s breathing heavy like lights of the city pulsed with her lungs.

CHRIS:       There are so many fucking people dancing all around us.

JIM:            And indeed there were.

GIRL:         Chinatown.

CHRIS:       A party.

JIM:            Our destination.

GIRL:         The suicide girl of course knowing the better rave.

CHRIS:       Strobe Lights.

GIRL:         Four stories.

JIM:            I hear someone in line at the bathroom say that tomorrow they’re tearing down this building so some guys in the DJ scene they got four DJs one for every floor and strobe lights.

CHRIS:       Strobe lights.

JIM:            I haven’t smoked for four years and someone hands me a cigarette and I smoke it which causes me to subsequently smoke for another four years.

CHRIS:       Everyone performed a dance sequence in unison.

Everyone performs a dance sequence in unison to great techno.

Soft fade to:

JIM:            I’m outside.

CHRIS:       I’m outside sitting on the sidewalk.

JIM:            Chris is stroking my hair.

CHRIS:       I’m stroking your hair.

JIM:            Stop stroking my hair Chris.

CHRIS:       But I love your hair man.

JIM:            Where’s the girl?

CHRIS:       And there she was.

GIRL:         Looks like a bust gentlemen.

JIM:            And she pointed up to the building from which we’d just exited.

CHRIS:       A chair burst from the window on the fourth floor.

JIM:            Then a desk from the third floor.

CHRIS:       The dancers had turned.

JIM:            The riot had begun.

CHRIS:       And from across the street we watched four stories of dancers explode the walls of a building from the inside, splinters of window raining down the water-slick pavement.

JIM:            A howl of cop cars arrived with disco sirens.

CHRIS:       Christopher seductively dancing in a hail of light and glass. 

Walken does a seductive slow dance for twenty three seconds; time slows.

JIM:            And I thought:

This is what I’ve come for.

This is why I take this drugs.

For a moment just like this.

GIRL:         Jim?

JIM:            Huh?

GIRL:         What’s going on?

JIM:            I just was … talking about what was happening. Whoa we’re inside now?

GIRL:         I thought you said you could handle your shit.

JIM:            I can. I am.

GIRL:         Then do it.

JIM:            Roger.

GIRL:         Where’s Chris?

JIM:            I think I see him over there in the window.

GIRL:         Stuck in his earphones.

JIM:            The new Eno came out.

GIRL:         Mm

JIM:            He’s an Eno fan.

GIRL:         Mm.

JIM:            …

GIRL:         I’m still really fucken high.

JIM:            I feel comfortable here but I also kind of have to ask you where we are?

GIRL:         Murray Hill.

JIM:            High rise.

GIRL:         I’m crashin.

JIM:            Oh.

GIRL:         The owner’s on tour. Don’t grind your teeth.

JIM:            Am I grinding my teeth?

GIRL:         Here bite this wooden spoon.

JIM:            Uhm.

GIRL:         No bite back at your molars, yeah.

JIM:            Like this?

GIRL:         Yeah, it’ll like release your jaw.

JIM:            …

GIRL:         I’m not gonna beat around no bushes, okay?

JIM:            Okay.

GIRL:         I think we should go over to the bed.

JIM:            And do?

GIRL:         My flight’s in four hours.

JIM:            I really did not expect to be eating out a stranger’s pussy at five a.m. in the morning.

GIRL:         She came five times in my face then she gave me an hour’s worth of blowjobs but I couldn’t come.

CHRIS:       From the reflection in a bedroom mirror I could see Chris huddled in the crook of the window.

Curled into himself.

His ears stuck with phones.

JIM:            I took the condom off in the bathroom.

I went back to the naked woman.

I watched the room become light.

The suicide girl woke at the same time as me and said,

GIRL:         Coffee?

JIM:            And I nodded yes.

I turned to her bedroom mirror.

I looked into my own eyes.

CHRIS:       This is not a good idea.

JIM:            The black discs of my eyeballs saucering open and shut.

GIRL:         The suicide girl followed me down the stairs to the street.

CHRIS:       We shared a cigarette under the plastic awning of the condo.

GIRL:         Great time.

JIM:            Yeah.

GIRL:         So when you’re in Seattle … ?

JIM:            Yeah.

GIRL:         High five brother.

JIM:            And I touched for the last time in my life the palm of Sarah Raven.

CHRIS:       Street.

JIM:            Wallet.

CHRIS:       Where’s … ?

JIM:            Fuck it.

CHRIS:       Walking.

JIM:            Rain.

CHRIS:       Hours.

JIM:            Home.

CHRIS:       Shoes.

JIM:            Coat.

CHRIS:       Pants.

JIM:            Shirt.

SIG:           Breathe.

JIM:            Bed.

SIG:           Breathe.

JIM:            Breathe.

SIG:           Her hot hand caressing my chest.

JIM:            How did I get here?

SIG:           My new girlfriend Sigourney calming me down.

JIM:            My new girlfriend Sigourney making me drink a gallon of orange juice.

SIG:           My new girlfriend Sigourney feeding me 5-HTP, a naturally occurring amino acid and metabolic intermediate in the biosynthesis of seratonin which reduces brain cell damage caused by ingested entactogenic amphetamines such as –

JIM:            Ecstasy.

SIG:           Is that what you took?

JIM:            Sorry.

SIG:           Oh God I just worry about your brain

JIM:            Yeah.

SIG:           You know I don’t care what you do as long as you’re happy.

JIM:            Yeah.

SIG:           Are you quietly crying?

JIM:            … No?

SIG:           The lack of seratonin is why you’re crying.

JIM:            Yeah.

SIG:           It’s not anything real.

JIM:            I’m just –

SIG:           What?

JIM:            It’s just –

SIG:           What?

GIRL:         You never told her.

JIM:            I never told her.

GIRL:         And she never found out?

JIM:            She never found out.

GIRL:         But she knew.

JIM:            I think she knew.

GIRL:         I think she knows.

SIG:           Women always know the indescretion of their men but generally have the wisdom to say nothing.

GIRL:         It’s called being a woman.

JIM:            I tried to get to sleep.

SIG:           A snoozing Sigourney curled into my body.

JIM:            My body humming with tension.

My teeth grinding.

My lips bitten blood red.

A fly buzzed overhead.

It landed on my nose.

I shook my face.

It landed again on my cheek.

This time I didn’t move.

Lights slowly fade.

Buzzing grows louder.

Dark.

The above text was originally directed by Stella Powell-Jones and featured:

Jim Simpson – Grant Harrison

Sigourney Weaver – Jenelle Chu

Christopher Walken – Ivano Pulito

Hostess — Jenelle Chu

Suicide Girl – Teddi Millan

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