A Sketch by Jean-Pierre Martinez
The landlord cleans glasses on the counter and rinses them in a sink out of view. A man and a woman enter. The man glances suspiciously and somewhat disgustedly at the bar. They sit at a table.
Him – It’s really grimy. I wonder why I keep coming here.
Her – It’s the only café across from the hospital…
Him – When you see the hygiene standards we have to follow in our work… If a patient catches a nosocomial disease in your department, even just a cold, they’ll sue you. Then they come here and get their little glass of red wine in a barely rinsed glass between two customers, one of whom may might have hepatitis and the other the Ebola.
Her – Yeah…
Him – Did you see that? Dirty dishes sit in the sink from morning till night. You can imagine the culture broth… By the end of the day, you’ve shared your germs with half the town. Nosocomial diseases, my foot. What do you call a disease you catch in a café?
Her – Cirrhosis of the liver?
The landlord approaches.
Landlord – And what can I get for you, ladies and gentlemen?
Him – I don’t know… A tomato juice.
Her – A coffee.
The landlord walks away.
Him – I don’t know why I’m getting tomato juice, I can’t stand it.
Her – After a while, we don’t know what else to order anymore
Him – Sodas are so sweet. I should have ordered a fruit juice.
Her – You still can…
Him – I don’t know… Did you see the look on the landlord’s face? He doesn’t seem friendly.
Her – Do you want me to go?
Him – It’s too late, he just opened the bottle. That’s just like me. I’ll have to drink a tomato juice even though I hate it. Plus, tomatoes give me heartburn. Don’t they do that to you?
Her – No.
Him – Too bad, I won’t drink it then…
Her (changing the subject) – What are you doing this summer?
Him – I don’t know yet… I’ll probably spend a week or two at my parents’ place, like every year.
Her – You’re close to your parents, then.
Him – Not really. They’re bloody annoying, but they have a villa with a pool near Antibes.
Her – When you’re annoying, if you still want to see your children after they leave home, you have to invest in a pool. You should consider it for yours when the time comes…
Him – Yeah… Unless I don’t want to see them too often.
Her – Besides that, how are things?
Him – Well, my wife invited the neighbours over for dinner again.
Her – So what?
Him – It’s not that they’re not nice, but… they’re a bit annoying too…
Her – Why did she invite them?
Him – We just moved into the neighbourhood. They kindly invited us to their place to get acquainted. So we felt obliged to return the invitation. I’m afraid it might become a habit, you know?
Her – I can see that.
Him – Now that we’ve set the ball rolling…
Her – I might have a solution.
Him – A solution?
Her – To make sure they never come to eat at your place again.
Him – What do you mean?
Her – I had the same thing happen a few years ago when I bought the house.
Him – And then?
Her – The neighbours invited us. Teachers, you know. Subscribers to a cultural magazine. Politically progressive, naturally. Environmentally conscious, leaning towards vegetarianism, but they still eat meat occasionally if it’s organic.
Him – I see. Nice, but totally boring. And how did you get rid of them?
Her – When we returned the invitation, I served them a special dish.
Him – Special?
Her – A heart.
Him – A heart? How do you mean, a heart?
Her – A beef heart. Straight up. Just with a salad.
Him – A beef heart? I didn’t even know you could eat that… Where did you find it?
Her – At the butcher’s around the corner.
Him – I didn’t know it was sold.
Her – Oh no, but he didn’t sell it to me. He gave it to me.
Him – No way! And did they eat it?
Her – They’re polite people, you see. I told you, teachers. So it’s about tolerance, respect for differences. They didn’t dare say a word, you can imagine. Like, I respect everyone’s customs, even if they’re different from mine, and I make an effort to share something with them, even if it’s not exactly my values. They held their noses, and they ate it all.
Him – And then?
Her – We never saw them again.
Him – Never?
Her – We bump into each other from time to time, of course, we’re neighbours. But they never dared to invite us again, afraid that we would return the invitation and serve them something even worse than last time… We totally traumatized them, I’m telling you.
Him – That’s crazy…
Her – Oh no, you should have seen their faces when I put it on the table… I should have taken a photo. Actually, I think I did…
Him – Damn… But then you had to eat it too.
Her – You have to know what you want, my friend. It’s just a bad moment to go through. But afterwards, you’re free for the rest of your life.
Him – Okay… Yeah, I’m not sure… I’ll talk to my wife about it…
Her – Definitely not, you fool!
Him – Why not?
Her – She wouldn’t agree, obviously!
Him – Yeah… There’s a good chance.
Her – No, surprise her. Tell her tonight, I’m the one cooking, darling.
Him – Oh yes, that alone will surprise her, for sure…
She gets up.
Her – Well, I have to go now.
Him – Okay.
Her – You’ll tell me about your evening, promise?
Him – Wait, I haven’t even been served my tomato juice yet…
Her – You’ll see, it works every time. If you never want to have them for dinner again without getting into a fight with them, it’s the only solution, I assure you… There’s a butcher’s shop right across the street.
Him – Thanks for the advice! You’re right, I’ll do that…
Her – Glad to help…
She leaves.
All the texts available on this website can be downloaded for free. However, performance rights, which constitute fair compensation for the author’s work, are a legal obligation. Whether you are an amateur or a professional, you must request authorization to perform the play and pay the corresponding royalties for the production.
To get in touch with Jean-Pierre Martinez and ask an authorization to represent one of his works: CONTACT FORM.
A sketch from the collection Open Hearts
Link to the collection for free download (PDF)
Find all of Jean-Pierre Martinez’s plays on his website:
https://jeanpierremartinez.net