A sketch by Jean-Pierre Martinez
He’s there, not fully awake. She walks in, full of energy.
Her (towards the audience) – Did you see? They’re back!
Him – Who? The audience?
Her – Yes, not the Invaders!
He gives her a tired look.
Her – I’ve got so much energy this morning… I slept like a baby!
Him – Good for you…
Her – Some days are just like that… I must’ve gotten up on the right side of the bed.
Him – Mmm…
Her – I’m starving! Aren’t you?
Him – Not really…
Her – I feel like I’ve eaten amphetamines. Must be spring. Doesn’t it have that effect on you?
Him – I don’t know… I’ve never eaten amphetamines…
Her – For me, one ray of sunshine and boom! Life’s all rosy.
Him – Lucky you.
Her – I should’ve been born in a country where it’s sunny all year round.
Him – That exists?
Her – In the tropics!
Him – They have the rainy season.
Her – Oh, right…
Him – It lasts six months.
Her – That long?
Him (pointing to the audience) – Why do you think they all flock to Costa Brava in August? In the tropics, the good weather is in winter. In summer, it’s crap.
Her – At least there, you get good weather for half the year, and you know exactly when. It’s more organized than here. You don’t have to wonder every morning if you should take your umbrella. And when you do, you know it’s for six months.
Him – It’s the same in Antarctica. The year is split in two. Day in summer, night in winter.
Her – You could always hibernate, like polar bears.
Him – Yeah… But now with the melting ice… You go to bed in October, and wake up in April drifting on an iceberg off the coast of the Canary Islands…
She sighs.
Her – And what about a country with 365 days of summer and winter spread over the 365 nights? Doesn’t exist? Who cares if it’s cold at night? We’re asleep.
Him – Doesn’t exist.
Her – I should’ve been born on another planet.
Him – Sometimes I wonder if you weren’t…
A beat. They watch the horizon.
Her – Looks like it’s clouding over, doesn’t it?
Him – You think?
Her – Look at those big clouds over there. The wind’s bringing them this way.
Him – We live in a temperate climate… In weather speak, that means the worst is always possible. And likely, in the short term.
Her – Weather forecasts… Have you heard their latest thing? They don’t talk about Celsius or Fahrenheit anymore, it’s all about “feels like” temperature. Feels like to who? To cold types like me, or to people who are never cold? To the ones who forgot their sweater, or the ones in thermal underwear? I’d love to see the thermometer that measures that, “feels like” temperature…
Him – It’s like the national happiness meter… Down again this week, they say.
Her – That depresses me.
Him – There you go. It’s raining.
Her – I’d rather not watch that… I’ll call my mum, see if the weather’s nice in the South.
Him – What did I just say?
Her – What?
He mimics E.T., finger pointing toward the sky.
Him – Phone home…
Black.
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 Him and Her
Link to the collection for free download (PDF)
Find all of Jean-Pierre Martinez’s plays on his website:
https://jeanpierremartinez.net