Better Places to Go

RICARDO. You got any plans tonight, Rosie?

ROSIE. I heard things about you. Last night, down at Clyde’s.

RICARDO. I asked you a question.

ROSIE. I asked you first.

RICARDO. No, you didn’t. You didn’t ask me anything.

ROSIE. Are the rumors true?

RICARDO. When are you leaving?

ROSIE. When the time is right.

RICARDO. (After a moment:) The rumors aren’t true.

ROSIE. (She stands.) Bullshit. That’s what I say. Bull — shit. You’re lying, Ricardo. Like I even care. If you and Derek are—

RICARDO. You’ll never leave this place. You’re gonna die here.

ROSIE. (She moves to the table that he is clearing. Purposely, she knocks over the salt and pepper shakers.) I hate you. If everybody knew what a jerk you were—

RICARDO. If everybody knew what a compulsive liar you were—

ROSIE. Faggot.

RICARDO. Aw, come on, Rosie. You can do better than that.

ROSIE. My boyfriend didn’t want me to take this job because you’re a dumb Mexican and all Mexican’s steal money and rape women.

RICARDO. You’re not my type.

ROSIE. (With a gesture to her breasts:) Obviously.

RICARDO. You don’t even have a boyfriend.

ROSIE. No?

RICARDO. No, you don’t.

ROSIE. But you do.

RICARDO. Nothing’s worse than watching you lie to people.

ROSIE. I don’t lie.

RICARDO. You lie to every person who walks in the door. Just to sucker ‘em outta their money.

ROSIE. People like me, asshole. They give me tips.

(Rosie collects her tips from a table; a handful of loose change.)

RICARDO. People feel sorry for you because you tell ‘em that your mother is dying of cancer or that your father had a heart attack or that you have three starving babies at home and they all got scurvy.

ROSIE. It’s part of the job. I tell people what they wanna hear. I pretend to be someone I’m not just to make them happy.

RICARDO. Yeah, so do I.

ROSIE. It makes people feel better about themselves if they think they’re helping someone who is less than them. Like they’re doing some good deed for the white trash of the world. Dumb fuckers don’t realize I’m smarter than them. I get ‘em their drinks. I bring ‘em plates of food. I tell the wives they look young. I flirt with the husbands. I touch their ugly babies: pat their bald heads, kiss their sticky faces. It’s their money that I really want. They always leave me a little extra, because I’m so sweet. (She pretends that she is waiting on a customer; very convincing:) What a beautiful family you have. It’s always nice to see people so happy together. Really, it warms my heart. (The facade is gone.) I know how to get what I want.

RICARDO. You never answered my question.

ROSIE. Yeah, I got big plans tonight.

RICARDO. You’re gonna go home alone like you always do.

ROSIE. You just don’t know, Ricardo. I’m so sick and tired of this place. I’d love to set it on fire and watch it burn to the ground. (Beat.) You got any matches on you, hot boy? It gets to a person after a while. It crawls all over me like a rash. Like poison fucking ivy. (Beat.) How in the hell did I get stuck in Nebraska?

RICARDO. You were born here.

ROSIE. But you weren’t. I’ll never figure out why the hell you stay.

RICARDO. Same reason you do. There’s no place like home.

ROSIE. Hey, there’s better places to go than this God forsaken shit hole. (She rips open a package of crackers.)

RICARDO. How would you know? You’ve never even been outside of Nebraska.

ROSIE. (Shoving crackers into her mouth:) So! I’ve been to Lincoln. And me and my grandmother went to Omaha last summer. She had to go see a specialist for her rheumatism.

RICARDO. You hate that old woman.

ROSIE. She’s lazy.

RICARDO. Be nice. She lets you live with her for free.

ROSIE. Someone has to take care of her.

RICARDO. Is she still obsessed with aliens?

ROSIE. She swears the mother ship is coming for her any day now. (Beat.) I just wish the fuckers would hurry up and get here and take her away.

RICARDO. There’s a storm coming tonight.

ROSIE. You bet your ass there is. Maybe you and your psycho lover boy will get blown away in a tornado. Or better yet, maybe the two of you can hitch a ride with my grandmother and fly off to Saturn where you all belong.

RICARDO. (Aside:) God willing.

(JUDY, a petite and timid woman in her early thirties, enters.)

ROSIE. (To Judy:) Don’t you have anything else better to do?

JUDY. (Nervous; tearful:) It’s been a week. I can’t take it anymore.

ROSIE. He isn’t coming back.

JUDY. Yes, he is. He promised.

ROSIE. Tell her Ricardo.

RICARDO. What do you want me to tell her?

ROSIE. That all he wanted was a piece of lonely ass and as soon as she gave it up, he hit the road and he ain’t coming back.

RICARDO. Judy, are you hungry?

JUDY. (Only to Ricardo:) I haven’t been able to eat much. I’m nervous all the time. My hands are shaking. My heart is rattled. I can’t even concentrate. Ricardo, do you think I’ve gone mad?

ROSIE. He’s a truck driver that you spent a night with in a sleazy motel. Get over it.

JUDY. It wasn’t like that, Rosie. You wouldn’t know because you hate the world and you’ve never been in love.

ROSIE. (Angered:) I have so been in love, for your information. (She glances quickly at Ricardo, then:) There are things about me that you don’t know. I got secrets and I’m taking ‘em with me to the grave. (She returns to the task of painting her nails.)

JUDY. Well, you just keep quiet about him. He’ll be back here and he’ll prove you wrong.

ROSIE. Suit yourself, loser. Sit here all night and wait for him. I have big plans.

RICARDO. (Intervening:) Let me get you something to drink, Judy.

JUDY. Just water. With a slice of lemon. My throat is dry. Must be from the wind.

RICARDO. It’s supposed to be a bad storm.

ROSIE. (She messes up on a fingernail:) Shit!

JUDY. (To Ricardo:) You believe me, don’t you, Ricardo? He’ll be back, won’t he?

RICARDO. I hope so.