CAST

Ben and Joe – men in their 40s

SET

A kitchen set.

SYNOPSIS

Two gay men attend a nineties-themed celebration and come to the realization that the years after the AIDS crisis have passed them by.

The playwright expects productions to be undertaken by companies with antiracist policies.

A kitchen in a very nice house. On a lower level of the house a raucous party is taking place.

Enter two men, 40s, dressed in hospital gowns and very sturdy boots. (If there is an issue with the open backs of the hospital gowns, the men may wear white briefs. It is the preference that they wear nothing under the gowns.) Both men carry an open champagne bottle or two.

BEN

He’s gotta keep the good stuff around here somewhere.

JOE

Who ever heard of Fred’s Champagne? Oh. Well.

Seeing the price sticker.

One ninety-nine.

BEN

If you were a bottle of Grey Goose, where would you be?

JOE

(reading from the label)

“Warning: Contents have proven corrosive to some forms of plastic.” Hmmm.

BEN
That’s why grandma always drinks directly from the bottle.

JOE

Anything?

BEN

Nope. That bitch probably has it in a locked vault with that Chilean placenta face cream he won’t shut up about.

JOE

I don’t know. He’s on his health kick now. He’s down there right now sipping Perrier.

BEN

What?

JOE

I know. He’s only had like, I don’t know, one hit of Molly this week. It’s scary.

BEN

Fuck. Why even have a party?

JOE

He’s celebrating his new pills.

BEN

Oh. What’s he into now?

JOE

No. He’s finally undetectable.

BEN

What?

JOE

Yep. Let the angels sing.

BEN

He’s been poz for, like…

JOE

Since 1996. Hence, the party theme.

BEN

Oh.

JOE

When did we get nostalgic for the ‘90’s anyway?

BEN

I think it happened when Shannon Doherty announced she’d grown a heart. He’s really undetectable?

JOE

Well, I haven’t seen the bloodwork, but yeah. That’s what he says.

BEN

Fuck me.

JOE

You say that to all the boys.

BEN

Now I need a real drink. Fuck!

JOE

I can’t decide if this champagne is bubble-gum flavored or if I’m having a mild stroke.

BEN

What is this place? There’s nothing in the cupboards.

JOE

This would be a kitchen, Ben. That’s a refrigerator and that’s an oven. In olden days men used to force women to spend many hours each day shoving dead animals and carbohydrates into an oven and make them hot. Then we discovered protein shakes and invented kale, and everyone lived happily ever after.

BEN

What? Fuck.

JOE

Oh, hey, hey baby. Don’t sit on the floor. That looks like Italian marble.

BEN

But it feels nice.

JOE

Girl, you know how Skipper is.

BEN

I just need a minute.

JOE

OK.

JOE sits with BEN.

Oh. I should really try chilling my… Never mind. Another time. I just hope I don’t leave any skid marks. Why the hell are we even wearing these things anyway?

BEN

You said the theme was the naughty nineties. What’s more nineties than hospital gowns?

JOE

I was thinking more like bowl cuts and sleeveless flannel shirts.

BEN

He’s really undetectable?

JOE

Yeah.

There’s a quiet moment.

Hey, but if it makes you feel any better, with all the drinking and drugs he’s done in the past twenty years, his liver will probably fall out in, like a week. Hashtag ‘life goals,’ as the cool kids say.

BEN

Great.

JOE

Oh, come on Benny. Focus. I have to talk to you about something important.

BEN

What?

JOE

I’ve just been waiting for the right moment to tell you. I know you’re having a moment, but…

BEN

Oh. God.

JOE

Ben. I don’t know… this is so hard.

BEN

Just say it.

JOE

OK. Ben. I see what’s happening to you and… OK. I know it’s not a death sentence anymore. They have treatments. I mean, look at Skipper. Anyway. You should know, I think this hospital gown makes my own ass look just as big.

BEN

What?

JOE

I mean no one has said a word about it all night. I don’t think anyone’s even looked at it.

BEN

But Skipper…

JOE

Girl, everything from his eyebrows to his wiener has been cool sculpted to the bone. We should look into it.

BEN

Joe, no one is looking at your ass because every single goddam mammal in North America has already seen your ass.

JOE

Yeah, but there’s that pilot from Air Swiss…

BEN

Mike is from Toledo.

JOE

Oh. Well then. That makes sense, then. All better! Come on, let’s go back to the party. But seriously girl, when was the last time you hit the gym?

BEN

He’s really undetectable?

JOE

Yeah.

BEN

And you…?

JOE

Still negative.

BEN

How is that even possible? I mean your ass has been pricked more times than grandma’s pincushion.

JOE

You know how I love a nice needle dick.

BEN

I always thought Skipper gave it to him, you know?

JOE

Girl, please. Miss Skipper never gave nobody nothing.

BEN

Why I haven’t –

JOE

Don’t. I mean this. Don’t. None of us understand how or why we got passed over. Oh, hey. This isn’t some sort of anniversary or something, is it?

BEN

No. I don’t think so. I don’t know.

JOE

How long has it been?

BEN

starting to cry

I don’t know! I don’t know!

BEN breaks down. JOE does what he can to comfort BEN. Finally, BEN finds a way to compose himself.

Did I tell you I’ve been thinking about moving?

JOE

Hey! Let’s move to Brazil. No one down there’s seen my ass. You’ve been in that apartment for… God. How long?

BEN

Ricky and I moved in there in 1993. He died four years later.

JOE

So, he died in 199…7, which means you’ve lived there… carry the… Fuck! I can’t count when I’m drunk. He’s been gone a very long time.

BEN

I’ve been going through things. You know, getting rid of shit for the move. And I found this ratty old shirt. Just some random Izod polo. It took me a good five minutes to remember that it was Ricky’s.

JOE

Girl, it’s OK. You’re not a hoarder.

BEN

No! I’m forgetting him, Joey!

JOE

No.

BEN

Yes. And…and… the last guy I had sex with… I actually called the next day and asked him out for coffee without Ricky even…

JOE

Oh.

BEN

Right?

JOE

Well, baby, it’s been a long time.

BEN

But-

JOE

But nothing. I look at it like this. I’m still young. And you still look young – in that Lucille-Ball-in-Mame sort of way.

BEN

Forget your contacts again?

JOE

Just the right one, but if I look at you through my left eye you’re fine. Like a used Ryan Reynolds before they threw acid in his face so he could play Deadpool. Baby, Ricky would want you to live your life.

BEN

What does that even mean? But, he wouldn’t, you know. That’s the thing. He told me that when died he hoped I’d put on forty pounds, wear cotton/poly plaid button-downs and date John Travolta.

JOE

Benny and I say this with pure love in my heart, Ricky was a bitch.

BEN

Well…

JOE

Sweet, ninety-eight percent of the time. So sweet. But that other three percent, he was just blistering evil. You know its true. I loved him like a Donald Trump butt plug, but he’s gone, girl.

BEN

I know, but –

JOE

It’s been twenty… Oh fuck. It’s been a long time. Way too long.

BEN

You don’t understand.

JOE

I don’t understand what it’s like to ache for someone you can never, ever have? You. Are saying that? To me?

BEN

Yes.

JOE

Well… you’re right. I’ve had everybody I ever wanted. And a couple of them twice.

BEN

Bitch.

JOE

Oh, come on! Lighten up! Tell me about your new man. What’s his name?

BEN

Reynaldo.

JOE

Oooh. A Latin lover.

BEN

And he’s twenty-seven, for fuck’s sake. And he works construction.

JOE

Girl, fetch Aunt Pitty her smelling salts! Oh, Me likey those swarthy mans at that age. Broke-in in all the right places and still teachable. The best part? If you get them drunk enough, and the lighting is just right, they’ll still believe you when you tell them they have to be gentle because it’s your first time! Oh!

BEN

It’s so stupid.

JOE

No, baby. Someone has to tell you. You’re getting older.

BEN

What?

JOE

I’m sorry. I didn’t mean “older.” You’re getting old. And you just don’t have any more time for this self-indulgent bullshit. Ricky got sick. Ricky died. Just like hundreds of our friends and thousands of people around the world. He was young. In certain lights he was beautiful. And he had a monster cock. I’ve been told. The point is, you loved him, and he died. Your love didn’t save him. Nobody’s loved saved anybody. It never does. We all love the best we can ever hope for is that when they bring up the lights for last call, they’re not fluorescent. You have to stop punishing yourself, baby. Please. Take what’s left of your life and enjoy it. Or at least enjoy Reynaldo. Do it for the children.

BEN

But I’m forgetting him.

JOE

No, baby. You’ve absorbed him, like Skipper’s Chilean placenta face cream. But without the rash. He’s a part of you, baby. Like your big toe. I’ve seen your feet. You never think about your big toe, do you?

BEN

No.

JOE

Well, even though you never clip your toenails, much less have a decent pedicure, without your big toe you couldn’t stand tall so you could suck in that paunch and land yourself a Reynaldo. Ricky is a fungus-encrusted toe. He’s helping you stand tall.

BEN

Joey?

JOE

Benny?

BEN

You are so full of shit.

They hug for a long time.

I love you.

JOE

What?

BEN

I need a drink.

JOE

Oh. There are some wine coolers downstairs.

BEN

God! the nineties sucked!

BEN gets up from the floor and exits. JOE is about to do the same when he spots something on the floor. He pours a little of his champagne on a spot and wipes it away with the hem of his gown before he too exits, and lights go to black.

END OF PLAY

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Scott Carter Cooper was an invited participant in the 2020 Kennedy Center’s Playwrighting intensive and has worked closely to develop his work with Chicago Dramatists and Primary Stages. His plays have been presented internationally, domestically, and during the time of Covid, online.