Breasts
(Based on a True Story)
SCENE: There is a couch Center Stage, a table and two chairs to one side and a lounge chair, SR. There is a door leading to a bathroom, C. AYNE and HENRY are sitting on a couch, facing the audience. They appear to be watching TV. AYNE is absorbed in the show, but HENRY keeps turning to look at AYNE, then down her body. He's nervous and seems to be preparing to ask something.
HENRY:
So . . .
(AYNE turns her eyes from the set)
. . . how have you been?
(She shrugs. He nods. They continue to watch. Then, AYNE's breasts catch HENRY's eye. He takes a long absorbing look. She notices and returns a nasty glare until he looks away. Again, she looks at the audience.)
HENRY:
So . . .nothing’s new?
(She shakes her head. As she does so, AYNE notices HENRY'S eyes slowly traveling down her chest. HENRY manages to pull away again, although with more effort than before.)
HENRY:
(voice trembling)
So . . .
(He tries to sneak another peek.)
AYNE:
Stop it!
HENRY:
What?
AYNE:
Stop looking at me.
HENRY:
You're nice to look at.
AYNE:
You mean THEY'RE nice to look at.
(He shrugs in agreement but she doesn't seem to notice.)
HENRY:
(after a few moments)
Ayne?
AYNE:
Yes?
HENRY:
There's something I've been meaning to ask you for a long time . . . I've been avoiding it, but I think it has to be said . . . Ayne, I'd really like to feel your breasts. Please.
AYNE:
I can't believe you just asked me that!
HENRY:
I'll wear gloves.
AYNE:
(stands)
Unbelievable! All you men are the same. You're only interested in one thing . . .
HENRY:
(walks over to her, then, tenderly)
Two things…
(AYNE is pissed now.)
Your mind and your body! Your mind and your body!
AYNE:
I thought you loved me. You only love my endowments.
HENRY:
That's not true.
AYNE:
You think you know somebody, you think maybe this guy will be different, then this happens. You can’t even talk to a woman without looking. Can you? I bet you can't go one minute without looking below the neck. You can't do it. It's physically impossible for a man to do.
HENRY:
That's ridiculous.
AYNE:
Oh yeah? Try it. Come on. If you can talk to me for one minute as a human being, I'll let you touch anything you want.
HENRY:
(uncertain)
Okay. It's a bet.
(They each sit at opposite sides of the table.)
AYNE:
(looks at her watch)
Okay, we start . . . now.
HENRY:
(staring at the ceiling)
So . . .
AYNE:
You have to look at my face when you're talking to me. Let's not be rude.
HENRY:
(carefully looks her in the eye)
So . . . I just made a great investment at work today.
AYNE:
Oh?
HENRY:
Yeah . . . big investment. Good maturity. Big . . . and mature. It's making me a happy man. Nothing quite like them . . . being big and all . . . and mature. Time?
AYNE:
(looks at watch)
Seven seconds.
HENRY:
I haven't made an investment like this since--if mammary serves correctly--92 or 93. Yessiree. Been a long time. Real long time. Too long.
AYNE:
(musing)
What would Freud say?
HENRY:
Excuse me?
AYNE:
Nothing.
HENRY:
(pause)
Time?
AYNE:
(looks at watch)
Fifteen seconds.
HENRY:
Anyway . . . yeah. Right. Well. I was watching reruns of "Twin Peaks" on Bravo when the idea slapped me in the face.
AYNE:
Oh, really.
(leans over the table, seductively)
Anything else been happening with you lately?
HENRY:
(straining)
No . . . No . . . Unfortunately. Time?
(As she looks down at her watch, HENRY uses the opportunity to snag a peak)
AYNE:
I saw that!
HENRY:
What?
AYNE:
You looked--I told you!
HENRY:
(looks)
Did not.
AYNE:
There you go again!
HENRY:
I was looking at the floor…
(looks)
AYNE:
Again.
HENRY:
I don't think that one should count because I thought it was time out so I looked . . .
(looks)
AYNE:
Again.
HENRY:
Well, that was about a minute wasn't it?
AYNE:
(checks watch; he looks)
Again. Thirty-five seconds.
HENRY:
Well, maybe I wouldn't be so obsessed if you let me touch them once in a while!
AYNE:
Face it. All you men think about is perversion. All you want from me is my assets.
HENRY:
No, I love you a lot. I just think it's time to be able to cop a feel every once in a while.
AYNE:
If you really loved me, you wouldn't need any of that stuff.
HENRY:
I don't need it; I just want it . . . really bad. Look, Ayne, you're kind of like a package, and your body is kind of like wrapping paper. The wrapping paper looks really nice . . . and sweet and . . . supple . . . and it's really great and all, but what's important is the actual present inside, but there's nothing wrong with admiring the package. It just enhances the enjoyment of the gift--a lot. And you're giving me the present, and I'm happy, but you're denying me the box it came in. Don't do that to me Ayne, cause I want all of you, not just part of you. I want to feel you breasts Ayne, and I want feel them right now!
AYNE:
I thought I knew you.
HENRY:
Ayne, (pause) How long have we been married? Three years?
AYNE:
(softly)
Four.
HENRY:
Four years. I mean, I thought you were one of those nice girls that liked to wait until after marriage, but this is ridiculous. I mean, I'm a married man and I have to masturbate every day like some teenager.
AYNE:
That's disgusting!
HENRY:
What do you want me to do Ayne? Live my life with blue-balls? I have to go to bed every night with those nipples of yours poking through your nightgown and calling to me: Henry . . . Henry . . .
AYNE:
I married a pervert.
HENRY:
What's wrong with desiring your own wife?
AYNE:
(beginning to sob)
You've used me for my body for four years--and you jack-off!
HENRY:
You think that's disgusting?! You want to know how sick I really am? I only think of you when I'm doing it!
AYNE:
(gasps)
You bastard!
HENRY:
Want to know something else? At night, I pretend to be asleep so I can roll my arm over you and sneak a squeeze!
AYNE:
You don’t!
HENRY:
I do, and what’s more, I'm proud of it. I grabbed my wife's breasts God damn it, and I don't care who knows! You know what else? I’m glad I masturbate. I’m not ashamed of it anymore. I masturbate, and I’m good at it. Lord knows I’ve had enough practice… I’m no longer ashamed of my sexuality, and it feels fantastic! I’m a liberated man, Ayne!
(HENRY steps into the bathroom)
AYNE:
You're just proving me right. You can't abuse my body so you're just going to lock yourself away, …
HENRY:
Where do we keep the Vaseline…?
AYNE:
Henry, what are you doing?
HENRY:
What do you think I’m doing?
AYNE:
I have no idea …
(HENRY comes back into the living room with a towel and jar of Vaseline)
Just what are you planning to do with that?
(HENRY sits in chair)
You aren’t going to do what I think you’re doing, are you? In here!
HENRY:
You can leave.
AYNE:
I’m not leaving… you can do it in the bathroom.
HENRY:
Oh, no. Starting today, I’m a sexually free man, no longer inhibited by the sexual taboos of society.
(opens jar with a pop, sets the lid next to jar on lamp stand)
AYNE:
You don’t really mean it…
(HENRY takes the towel and carefully places it in his lap)
Even you aren’t that perverse.
HENRY:
Could you turn a little to the left?
AYNE:
Oh, that’s too much! (Stands)You won’t be looking at me while you do it…
HENRY:
Well, since you’re here… Baywatch might be on.
AYNE:
It’s not working, Henry…
HENRY:
Have it your way…
AYNE:
Bluffing…
(HENRY takes two fingers of Vaseline, weighs it, goes in for bigger scoop)
Bluffing…
(He claps his hands and rubs them together)
Bluffing! Just keep pretending, I know you won’t…
(he undoes his belt)
All right! All right! Okay! You win! You win!
(HENRY stops. AYNE comes back around to the front of the couch and sits)
You can feel my breasts, okay? You happy?
(Pause. Then HENRY throws the towel in the air, stands and marches toward her, arms outstretched and groping.)
AYNE:
Wait! I didn't know you were going to just up and grab them right away. I need a little time to work into this.
HENRY:
Fine. If that’s the way you want it, fine. I'm out of here Ayne. I've had it. You're a sick woman, and I'm an extremely frustrated man. I just can't take one more night being denied and taunted.
(HENRY grabs coat and opens door to leave)
AYNE:
Henry…?
HENRY:
I’ll be at mother’s if you need me…
AYNE:
Henry…
(HENRY exits SL, shutting the door behind him. AYNE stands, waits.)
Henry? (waits) All right! You can feel them now.
HENRY: (poking head through door)
Really?
AYNE:
Yes.
(HENRY enters excitedly, puts coat on rack)
How should we go about this?
HENRY:
(rolling up his sleeves)
Let's try being spontaneous. Spontaneity works.
AYNE:
What should I be doing during all this . . .
HENRY:
What do I care?--I mean, you don't have to do anything. Just sit down somewhere--here's good.
(HENRY brushes off the couch for her and AYNE sits stiffly, grabbing the sides of the cushions and staring away from him. He sits next to her and stares for a moment.)
HENRY:
Could you turn a little more toward me?
(She obeys rigidly)
That's good.
(HENRY slowly begins to reach towards her as the LIGHTS DIM.)
AYNE:
Henry?
HENRY:
Hmmmm?
AYNE:
Don't forget the gloves.
(BLACKOUT)