Dinner with Friends (TCG Edition)

Donald Margulies

• Editorial: Theatre Communications Group
• Año: 2012
• ISBN:
  9781559367493
• Categoría: Literature
• Categoría: American Drama

* Off-Broadway hit for over 6 months- * number one box office play in Paris * Collected Stories now in its second printing--over 5000 in print since 1998 *film rights sold for 1 million dollars

Act I

SCENE ONE

The present. A snowy winter night in Connecticut. Gabe and Karen’s eat-in kitchen. Gabe and Karen are entertaining their good friend, Beth, at an informal dinner, which is now moving on to the dessert course. Dishes are being cleared, coffee is being prepared. Four children, now offstage, had been seated at the table with them. Beth is distracted but not impolite.

GABE: Oh, and this market she took us to!

KAREN: She took us shopping.

BETH: Uh-huh.

GABE: Campo di Fiori.

KAREN: This indoor market.

GABE: Fish, produce, you name it!

KAREN: Gorgeous stuff. Really.

GABE: Rabbits, goats . . .

KAREN: So aromatic. So . . . colorful. And the faces!

GABE: I got some great shots.

KAREN: The authority with which she handled every onion, every red pepper!

BETH: Huh.

GABE: She’d squeeze an eggplant just so, and close her eyes and inhale . . . (He demonstrates. Beth smiles)

KAREN: This is someone who’s been cooking for seventy-five years. Can you imagine?

BETH: Wow.

GABE: Her relationship to food is so primal, so sexy, really. Gave us a great angle for our piece.

BETH: Huh!

KAREN (Over “Huh!”): Well, I don’t know about sexy . . . She’s eighty-six years old.

GABE: Yeah, but you see the way she handles a zucchini?

KAREN (To Beth): Regular or decaf?

BETH: Uh . . . (Looks at the clock) Better make it decaf.

(She gathers a few plates; Gabe takes them from her.)

Let me do something.

GABE (Sotto voce): No, no, sit.

(Beth does, reluctantly.)

KAREN: The traffic to her place was absolutely horrific.

BETH: Oh, really?

GABE: Harrowing. Truly.

KAREN: What are you complaining about? I did the driving.

GABE: I know. (To Beth) She’s amazing—she drives like a New York cabbie. She does. I couldn’t drive, I was too culture-shocked. I was afraid I’d get us killed. Our bodies’d have to be shipped home through the State Department . . .

BETH: Uch! Gabe!

GABE (Continuous): . . . you and Tom would become the boys’ guardians, raise them on processed foods . . .

(Beth swipes at him affectionately for his affectionate dig.)

KAREN: Is that really what was going through your head?

GABE: Absolutely.

KAREN: You are one morbid dude, my darling.

GABE: Yes, and I’m all yours.

(They kiss.)

BETH: So did you ever get to Rome?

GABE (Confused by her question): What?

KAREN: This is Rome, Beth.

GABE: Emilia lives outside of Rome.

KAREN: Remember?

BETH (Over Gabe’s “Rome”): Oh, of course, I’m sorry, I thought this was Florence you were talking about.

GABE (Over “you were talking about”): No no, we haven’t gotten to Florence yet.

KAREN: Is this really boring?

BETH: No, no, not at all.

KAREN: It is, we’ll shut up.

BETH: No, no, go on. I want to hear about it. I do.

KAREN: Why don’t we just get to lunch.

GABE: Okay, so we get there in one piece . . .

BETH: Yeah? . . .

GABE: I am drenched with sweat from the hellish journey, I stumble out of the car, feeling a bit queasy . . .

KAREN: And she’s preparing this lunch! . . .

GABE: This feast!

BETH: Wow.

KAREN: The simplest, freshest . . .

GABE: Uh! The pomodoro! Tell her about the pomodoro!

KAREN: Right. She had this lovely sunny little pantry . . .

BETH: Yeah? . . .

GABE: Filled with jars and jars . . .

KAREN: Jars and jars of her own plum tomatoes picked from her own garden, that were the most incredible, succulent . . .

GABE: You wouldn’t believe how red these tomatoes were . . .

BETH: Hmm . . .

GABE: . . . and sweet!

KAREN: They were so soft, Beth . . .

GABE: Buttery, almost.

KAREN: They were. And she just crushed them with her bare hands.

BETH: Huh!

GABE: Pulverized them . . .

KAREN: You should’ve seen . . .

GABE (Continuous): . . . in her gnarled little hands. It was a riot, this little old lady . . .

KAREN: It was funny, it really was.

BETH (Smiling): Uh-huh.

GABE: I mean, she’s really tiny, like 4’ 10” or something.

KAREN: No . ...