The Ride (5JQV)

An assignment for theatre history. The rules were really complicated. Attempted angst.

HUSBAND: Man in his early forties who has been very stressed out lately and has pent up his frustrations, which he tends to release on his wife. He appears to be very clean, he is tall, and has a lackluster fashion sense. Been laid off for over a year, and only just got a job.

 

WIFE: Late thirties, tall and bland looking, but still has a strong look in her eyes. She has been experiencing infertility.

 

(The two are driving to the office of a fertility specialist. They’ve been told this is their last chance at pregnancy, and there is a gloomy air inside of the car, a van they purchased the first time they tried to have a child, now outdated. There has been a toll taken on their marriage due to the tension and sorrow caused by their unfulfilled desire of having a child of their own. HUSBAND is clutching his steering wheel tightly, as though it will make him faster, as though they will have more chances if they get there faster. WIFE is leaning into her window in the passenger seat, looking distraught and almost childlike, curved into herself almost spoon-like.)

 

HUSBAND:

 Amazing, I missed the turn. It’s going to take us a whole other 45 minutes to get set back on the road we need to be on. This is going to ruin our entire agenda.

 

WIFE:

(Distantly) Babe, It’s fine, we’re spending the night anyway. Keep going and look out at our surroundings. Absorb.

 

HUSBAND:

(Talking about the traffic pattern) Can’t we turn? I hate this. And babe, I don’t need you to be a critic.

 

WIFE:

 Don’t get mad at me, I’m just trying to help. Quit being so absurd.

 

HUSBAND:

 (Turning his head slightly to the right to look at his wife) Exaggerating again? Don’t wanna get too upset, I see the police.

 

WIFE:

 Funny. We’re lost aren’t we. I don’t remember this being in the directions Dr.What’s-his-face sent us. I hope this doesn’t end up being another ripoff.

 

HUSBAND:

 (Concerned and slightly anxious) Gosh, exactly what I didn’t want to hear. Oh, my back is aching.

 

WIFE:

 How thoughtful of you to complain about your back, while we're stuck in the middle of nowhere. If you don’t mind, please ask for directions. That quack doctor didn’t give us the right ones. I feel suffocated, I can’t take a breath.

 

HUSBAND:

 It’s just the manure or something equally as horrendous. I feel like we’re on some sort of doctor searching safari.

 

WIFE:

 Killing me. This headache. If you don’t ask for directions from someone, I swear, I- (WIFE coughs loudly) I think I’m having an asthma attack.

 

HUSBAND:

 Lie back, away from the window. (Pauses) I think we’re going the right way, he said we would hit some rough patches on the way. (Drags out a long sigh) Do you think we should just cancel?

 

WIFE:

 May we please just turn around, I feel like we’re not even going the right way. This feels like south instead of north. Ugh, I feel like we’re going to an asylum.

 

HUSBAND:

 No, we’re not. I have this. Why do you treat me like some kind of stupid person?

 

WIFE:

 Oh please, I'm not the one who's driving like some kind of newborn puppy. This is a fiasco.

HUSBAND:

Please let me drive, you're distraction me. I'd not get so distracted if you were sound asleep.

 

WIFE:

 Really? Let me drive you're making me angry. And the way this car is whirling about on the road is doing me no justice.  You couldn’t get absurder.

HUSBAND:

Seriously, I am trying to drive! You act like I’m doing on the road, doing something insane like aerobics!

WIFE:

Thank God you’re not a comedian. Otherwise we’d be even more penniless. I couldn’t handle the thought.

HUSBAND:

Unbelievable! (HUSBAND throws his hands up in a disbelieving fashion). Why is it that you must criticize everything I do? I used to be the one coming home late while you were off with the girls. Getting one of those massage things. Shiatzus.

WIFE:

Well that was then and it’s been a year of me supporting us, while you’ve been pressuring me to have a child when I’m quite clearly incapable of doing so. That’s been the whole year in review.

HUSBAND:

Xanthoma would be more bearable than sitting in the car with you for hours.  You're a  pain in my appendix.

WIFE:

You should know that you're a terrible excuse of a husband. You're driving me crazy.

HUSBAND:

Zealotry at its finest. Your intolerable behavior and all that jazz.

WIFE:

And you’re any better? Remind me why we’re married, again, because you give me hypoxia.

HUSBAND:

But I can’t. I don’t know myself. Can’t even make a decent corncob.

WIFE:

Cooking is what’s defining this marriage now? I thought you were different. Obviously I was wrong. Turn back. Don’t be so analytic.

HUSBAND:

Don’t tell me what to do! You only ever treat me bad….

WIFE:

Excuse me? First of all, it’s "badly," and second of all, you only ever give me reason to treat you this way. Try not to be so whiny and be more adaptive.

HUSBAND:

Fine. Well I guess I should be allowed to tell you the same. Maybe you should take that advice yourself.

WIFE:

Grief! Do you hear yourself right now? You're being such a whiny brat more than anything.

HUSBAND:

How can you say that? My own wife. I would have never expected this from you, although-

WIFE:

(Screaming out of frustration) It's enough! Not everything is about your damn masculinity! And I swear don't even think for a moment about me being some kind of "Feminazi."

HUSBAND:

Know me better than you think!

WIFE:

Lying to us both now? You were out of work for a year, and this is how it's been since! It's completely pathological!

HUSBAND:

My God! You're mad, completely. I've clearly grown too accustom to your rule over me. You're giving me an aneurism!

WIFE:

Now I'm giving you an aneurism! When will the madness end? I spent a whole year working overtime and then coming home so I could make you something to eat! Where's my crown?

HUSBAND:

Oh please. When will you admit to your control? I feel like I don't even know you. Come on. We'll pull over to the coffee shop. Get you one of those things you love so much. A cappuccino.

WIFE:

Persistently avoiding this conversation, are we? How about I drive and you take nap?

HUSBAND:

Really? You're so objectifying, like I'm only here to drive and entertain you. That's not how it works. I'm not just going to give up and become a Ioser.

WIFE:

So me taking the wheel would make you a loser? What happened to our equality? You're really compensating in excess.

HUSBAND:

Truly you're mad. Compensating for what?

WIFE:

Under no circumstances will I be leaving this car for a stupid cup a coffee. Oh shut up, you should know what I mean. If you want to complain how about you also wear a tutu?

HUSBAND:

Well, how about you stop insulting me now...

WIFE:

Xerosis is around my eyes. Would I even have time left? Or am I trapped in this vortex?

HUSBAND:

You'll be fine. He's a specialist. We'll finally be happy.

WIFE:

Zillions of women want children, but I'm not sure I want to have one with you. I don't see the buzz.

HUSBAND:

And what do you mean by that? You're causing me paranoia.

WIFE:

But I don't love you. At least not anymore, or how I used to. I think I'm going to call a cab.

HUSBAND:

Can't we talk about this? You're making me sc-

WIFE:

Don't you see? What's done is done, I can't change now. Beside, you never asked. (She leaves the car and shuts the door slowly but surely.)

HUSBAND:

Excuse me? What do you mean by that? Come back please! (He yells but makes no effort to chase after her)

 

 

Author's Note

This was really bad and I just wanted to get it done