Beatitudes Readers Theater
By Residents, For Residents
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Coffee Shop Confessions
Setting: A cozy coffee shop, mid-morning. Two chairs and a small table with coffee cups.
MARTHA: (stirring her coffee nervously) So… I did it.
DORIS: Did what?
MARTHA: You know. The thing we talked about. I made a profile on Match.com.
DORIS: (nearly choking on her tea) You didn’t!
MARTHA: I did. And before you say anything—I have a date. This Saturday.
DORIS: (long pause) Well… that’s… that’s wonderful, Martha.
MARTHA: Why are you looking at me like that?
DORIS: Like what?
MARTHA: Like I just told you I joined the circus.
DORIS: I’m not! I think it’s brave. Really, I do.
MARTHA: (suspicious) Doris Elizabeth Henderson, what aren’t you telling me?
DORIS: (taking a deep breath) I also… made a profile.
MARTHA: What?!
DORIS: And I also… have a date. This Saturday.
MARTHA: (laughing) You copycat!
DORIS: I am not! I did it two weeks ago. Before you!
MARTHA: Well, I thought about it three weeks ago, so technically—
DORIS: Oh, stop. Tell me about your man. What’s his name?
MARTHA: Walter. He’s 75, retired dentist, loves gardening and old movies. We’re meeting at that Italian place on Fifth Street.
DORIS: (impressed) A dentist! Fancy.
MARTHA: What about yours?
DORIS: His name is Frank. He’s 73, retired teacher, plays the harmonica, and we’re meeting at the botanical gardens.
MARTHA: The botanical gardens! That’s so romantic.
DORIS: Well, I figured it’s public, lots of people around, and if he’s boring I can always pretend to be fascinated by a rose bush.
MARTHA: (laughing) Smart thinking. I told Walter I have a weak bladder so I can escape to the bathroom if needed.
DORIS: Martha! You don’t have a weak bladder.
MARTHA: He doesn’t know that. It’s my exit strategy.
DORIS: What are you going to wear?
MARTHA: That blue dress. The one with the flowers. Not too dressy, not too casual.
DORIS: Perfect. I’m wearing my green pantsuit. The one that hides my middle.
MARTHA: (nervous again) What if he doesn’t look like his picture?
DORIS: What if he’s wonderful?
MARTHA: What if I forget what to talk about? It’s been seventeen years since Harold passed.
DORIS: (reaching across to pat her hand) You’ll talk about gardening. And movies. And whatever comes naturally. You’re delightful, Martha. He’s lucky you said yes.
MARTHA: (tearful) What if I’m too old for this?
DORIS: Too old for what? Coffee? Conversation? Companionship? My mother dated until she was 89.
MARTHA: Really?
DORIS: Really. She said age is just a number, but loneliness is a choice.
MARTHA: When did your mother get so wise?
DORIS: She was always wise. We just didn’t listen.
MARTHA: (laughing) Are we crazy?
DORIS: Probably. But we’re crazy together.
MARTHA: Promise me something?
DORIS: What?
MARTHA: Promise we’ll call each other Saturday night. No matter how the dates go.
DORIS: Deal. With full details.
MARTHA: Every detail.
DORIS: (raising her coffee cup) To new adventures?
MARTHA: (raising her cup) To new adventures. And to old friends who keep us from chickening out.
DORIS: Cheers to that.
MARTHA: So… did you Photoshop your profile picture?
DORIS: Maybe a little. Did you?
MARTHA: (laughing) Just took out a few wrinkles. The lighting was bad.
DORIS: (laughing) Oh, we’re terrible!
MARTHA: We’re not terrible. We’re just… strategically optimistic.
BOTH: (laughing together as lights fade)
THE END
