[Be sure to read Plays No. 49 and 50, Craig Taylor’s other tiny plays about London.]

- - -

(Jo and John stand outside a pub in Clapham. Their pints of Stella Artois are almost finished. The night is clear.)

Jo: It’s so weird how your tolerance just goes down so much. Isn’t that weird?

John: You haven’t had anything to drink for ten days?

Jo: Twelve days.

John: Twelve whole days.

Jo: I’ve been a good girl.

John: You have.

Jo: But it’s a Friday, you know?

John: You can’t hold back on Friday night.

Jo: I said to myself: Tonight, John is in town…

John: That’s right.

Jo: He’s taken a train all the way to see me.

John: And the rest of the gang, yeah.

Jo: I’m going to let myself go.

John: Well, we’ve had a few.

Jo: And I’m going to tell him how I feel.

John: You’re feeling good, aren’t you? We’re feeling good. Nice spring night.

Jo: John.

John: What’s the matter? Here. Come over here.

Jo: John. How long have we been friends?

John: I don’t know. Nearly six months I guess.

Jo: No, John. It’s been two years.

John: I met you two years ago.

Jo: And we were friends.

John: Well, not friends right away. Acquaintances. At least at the beginning. I mean, I knew who you were.

Jo: John.

John: Do you want to sit down?

Jo: I’m fine. John.

John: Yes, Jo?

Jo: John. We have been friends for three years. And I have loved you…


Jo: Whoops.


Jo: I wasn’t supposed to get to that part until a few minutes later.


Jo: Do you hate me now that I’ve said that?

John: Now that you’ve said what?

Jo: You know. What I just said.

John: I love you too, Jo. I think you’re great. I think you’re brilliant.

Jo: John.

John: Yes?

Jo: John. I don’t want to sleep with you.

John: Jo, I’m sort of seeing someone up in Manchester. I have a girlfriend.

Jo: Not that I haven’t thought, oh, you know, something like “I wouldn’t mind if he took my bra off.”

John: I’m kind of unavailable Jo.

Jo: I’m just saying.

John: I know.

Jo: I’m just saying.


Jo: Do you want to see my bra?

John: No. No, I didn’t… no.

Jo: I’m only going to show you a glimpse.

John: Jo, I don’t think that’s the best thing.

Jo: You so do. I can’t believe how bad you are. You’re naughty.

John: Jo.

Jo: It’s a jungle bra.

John: What do you mean it’s a jungle bra?

Jo: If you want to see it so bad you’ll get your chance, John.

(she lifts her shirt up)

Jo: Do you think I have nice breasts?


Jo: It’s because it’s camouflage that it’s called a jungle bra.


Jo: You have to look, John. To see it.

John: Jo, maybe we should just be friends right now.

Jo: Military is in you know.

John: Maybe stop showing me, okay?

Jo: What’s her name?

John: Put your shirt down.

Jo: What’s her name?

John: Put your shirt down.

(Jo drops her shirt)

John: It’s Debbie.

Jo: This is your girlfriend?

John: Well, we’re seeing each other.

Jo: So she’s your girlfriend.

John: We’re dating.

Jo: Which makes her your girlfriend.

John: I guess, yeah.


Jo: It’s a nice name.

John: What’s wrong with Debbie?

Jo: Nothing. It’s a nice name.

John: It’s fine.

Jo: Deb. You can shorten it to Deb, can’t you?

John: Yeah.

Jo: Do you shorten it to Deb?

John: Yeah, sometimes I do.