FOUR SHORT PLAYS
ABOUT SELLING
A GLASS-TOP
COFFEE TABLE,
AS POSTED BY
MY NEIGHBOR, GEORGE,
IN OUR APARTMENT
BUILDING'S ELEVATOR.
- - - -
[A bus. ALBERT and DAN are seated in front of DOLORES.]
ALBERT: Says here on the front page of the Wall Street Journal that my friend George, who lives in apartment 803 of the Melwood apartment building, is selling a glass-top coffee table.
[DOLORES taps ALBERT on the shoulder.]
DOLORES: For how much is he selling the table?
ALBERT: Just $10.
[DOLORES reveals a $10 bill that had been tucked in the left cup of her bra.]
DAN: Glad to see that you have cash. According to the Journal, George doesn't accept checks.
ALBERT: The Journal has an editorial that says the table is "super cool."
[Outside of the bus, attendees of an astronaut convention pour onto sidewalk, inquiring of locals if they're on the right track to get to the Melwood.]
BUZZ ALDRIN: Since coming back from space everything has been kind of a letdown except for the thought of purchasing George's glass-top coffee table. [Speaking to Neil Armstrong] We're going to the Melwood! This time I get to take the first steps on hallowed ground.
- - - -
[A furniture store. ALBERT and BETTINA stand with a salesman before an attractive glass-top coffee table.]
SALESWOMAN: We just sold a table like this to some people who previously had never found happiness in material objects.
ALBERT: My friend George is selling a glass-top coffee table like this for just $10.
SALESWOMAN: That's unheard of in the industry.
ALBERT: Yep. He even used the table, so it has character and magnificence. It's a gem.
BETTINA: I have $10 right here. (She pulls a $10 bill from her pocket and snaps it tight between her hands.) Where does your friend live?
ALBERT: He lives in the Melwood building, apartment 803 − right across the street.
[BETTINA streaks from the furniture store, falls into an open manhole
in the street and dies.]
ALBERT: Bettina! Are you okay?
[BETTINA'S ghost rises from the sewer.]
BETTINA'S GHOST: On my tombstone, chisel this in a gothic style: "I am gone, so I was not able / To buy George's glass-top coffee table."
ALBERT: Your end is tragic, Bettina, especially since you had cash. George doesn't accept checks.
- - - -
[Lobby of the Melwood building. Albert and Rod speak while waiting for the elevator doors to open.]
ALBERT: Have you heard that George in apartment 803 is selling a glass-top coffee table?
ROD (patting his chest): Be still my heart. I hope this table has some character.
ALBERT: It displays normal wear − and he's only asking $10!
ROD: No!
[ROD'S heart explodes from over-excitement; he collapses, dies. ALBERT shakes ROD'S lifeless body, then spots ROD'S ghost hovering just below the ceiling.]
ROD'S GHOST: Death has granted me all-encompassing knowledge. I now fully realize the glory of the table. Looking back on my life, I have just one regret: I wish I'd lived to own this glass-top coffee table. Tell my wife I love her.
ALBERT (in soliloquy): Don't be like Rod. Bring $10 to apartment 803 for a glass-top coffee table. No personal checks.
- - - -
[The Melwood apartment building. ALBERT and SARA have broken into Apartment 803 and stand before GEORGE'S attractive glass-top coffee table. In the background we hear a shower running.]
SARA: What an awesome glass-top coffee table. When I was a little girl I would tell adults of my dream of one day owning a glass-top coffee table like this and they would snort and say, "Dream on, kid!"
ALBERT: Since I don't live in the Melwood, I don't think I should take it. Odds are, I'd be mugged while carrying it home.
SARA (wipes away a tear): It's just so cool. Not counting us, I bet it even enhances home security.
ALBERT: For just $10!
[We hear the shower stop, then GEORGE emerges from the bathroom, nude.]
GEORGE: What are you doing here?!
SARA (to George): You resemble Michelangelo's David if only he was pudgy and way better endowed.
ALBERT: By "way better endowed," I assume that you're referring to his glass-top coffee table.
SARA: Of course. (To George) All I have is a checkbook. Is that okay?
GEORGE: Sorry, cash only.
- - - -
OTHER McSWEENEY'S FEATURES:
- - - -
Four Short Plays About Selling a Glass-Top Coffee Table, as Posted by My Neighbor, George, in Our Apartment Building's Elevator By Matthew Summers-Sparks
Another Excerpt From Zeitoun
Things I Have Written in Cover Letters By Kirsten Giebutowski
An Excerpt From Zeitoun
From The Diary of John Adams By Peter Krinke
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