Shelly Sells Seashells Down By The Seashore, Scene One (8.11.14)

I'm currently at Seaside Heights, and I've waited until I got here to write this play I've had in mind to write since I was at the National Theatre Institute. I never write realism, so I'm so excited to share this with you guys. I will also be attaching pictures from my trip there that I think may relate to this play, to give you a sense of this world.

#11: SHELLY SELLS SEASHELLS DOWN BY THE SEA SHORE

(SCENE ONE)

(Lights rise on a beach shop in Seaside Parks, New Jersey. It is early in the morning. There are no doors, and it is completely exposed to the boardwalk. A large sign above it reads "Son Of A Beach". The shop is filled with crude T-shirts on racks. An example of a few of them may be the following: "Obama Can't Ban These Guns" (with two arrows pointing to the arm holes), Marilyn Monroe with two guns and a bunch of tattoos of pot leaves, "She's Too Young For You, Bro", "All Daddy really wanted was a blow job", "Wanna Fuck?", "Future Guido", "Mama's Little Situation", "Hakuna Some Vodka" and of course, several that just read "Jersey Shore", "Seaside Heights" or some variation of that--some with the outline of the state of New Jersey on it, some not. The racks of these shirts seem to go on endlessly. While it may not be a very populated store, because of the size of it it can not be run by simply one person. It has two counters, on opposite sides of the room.

At rise, PATTY is folding shirts on one of the counters. She is very tan, has short blond hair and is slightly overweight. The exterior of the counter is covered with potential shirt design logos for silkscreen design. On the counter is a phone and a cash register. The wall behind it is largely covered in fold T-shirts but also has a large clock. 

A few moments pass, and nothing happens. After a few beats, she lets out a heavy sigh. Her cousin, GINNY rushes in. She is tan, covered in makeup, her hair is in a sloppy up-do she did fifteen minutes ago. She is holding a Creamsicle from Kohr's)

GINNY: I know, I know. 

PATTY: Really, Ginny?

GINNY: I'm sorry.

(She crosses to her register)

PATTY: You're fifteen minutes late, c'mon. I hate that shit man.

GINNY: I said I'm sorry!

PATTY: If you were really sorry, you wouldn't do it. You keep doing it.

(Ginny finishes her ice cream cone. She throws out her napkin, and starts the register)

PATTY: Did Alex give you that?

GINNY: (sheepishly) Yeah.

(A silence)

PATTY: So you have time to go to Kohr's and get a creamsicle--

GINNY: Jesus Patty, hop off my dick I said I'm sorry. (under her breath) Christ.

PATTY: You're giving him false hopes.

GINNY: Oh relax, I never said I was gonna suck him off. He just flirts with me a little bit and I flirt back. 

PATTY: Speaking of which, isn't he supposed to work today?

(She shoots her a look)

GINNY: Who?

PATTY: Ginny.

GINNY: Oh! Tony. Of course. Um. Yeah he is, isn't he?

(A silence)

PATTY: What's goin on.

GINNY: What? Nothing's going on.

PATTY: Where's Tony.

GINNY: Uh. I don't know, he didn't come home last night. So.

PATTY: Well, where'd he go?

GINNY: Well he went out to the boardwalk with Dale and some of the guys. It's was Chris' birthday, so. (beat) I don't know I bet he's…passed out at Dale's or something. He'll get here.

PATTY: I swear to god, you guys are the worst employers ever. (beat) Here, fold these shirts. Do something.

(She takes a box from behind the counter filled with shirts and puts it on her counter)

GINNY: Why do you always have to make me feel bad all the time. 

PATTY: I don't make you feel bad. Tony makes you feel bad. I just call him out on his bullshit. (beat) When's he gonna grow up, Gin?

(The phone rings)

PATTY: (into phone) Son Of A Beach. No. We don't sell those. No. I said we don't sell those. Because, we don't. I don't know, there's hundreds of those kinda stores on the boardwalk, just walk up and down. Yup. Buh-bye.

GINNY: He was just drunk. It was Chris' birthday.

PATTY: Ginny. This happens every work shift. And every night.

GINNY: Not every night.

PATTY: Ok, every other night. Doesn't matter. (beat) I just. I wanna make sure you're happy.

GINNY: Patty, jus stop acting like my mother and start acting like my cousin.

PATTY: (hurt) Ginny. Cmon.

(A silence)

GINNY: We got into a fight last night, so I haven't heard from him.

PATTY: What did you.

GINNY: It's stupid. Never mind.

PATTY: Gin.

GINNY: He just…he's been. Uh. Well I think he's been. Uh. Using. Oxy…again.

PATTY: For Christ's sake.

GINNY: I found a bottle in our medicine cabinet, and he's been going out real late. 

PATTY: I thought he stopped, man.

GINNY: I know. I did too. We both stopped. We did. Yknow. And now he just…

(A silence. Patty continues folding her shirts, and Ginny, hers. Then Ginny starts to cry, silently. Eventually, Patty notices)

GINNY: A…a few nights ago, we had some people over and he was doin some…Whip-Pits again...too... and…

(She begins to cry harder. Now she's really starting to cry. Patty goes over to comfort her)

GINNY: And he…

(Suddenly, a CUSTOMER walks in. She is an old lady with short gray hair, and a visor. She has a fat face. She is wearing tube socks)

CUSTOMER: Hello.

GINNY: (through tears) Hello.

PATTY: Hi.

(Patty crosses over to the Customer)

PATTY: When can I help you with?

CUSTOMER: I'm looking for a shirt for my grand-daughter.

PATTY: Alright.

CUSTOMER: Yeah, it's her birthday today. You guys make t-shirts here?

PATTY: Yeah, we do. We do.

(She crosses over to the counter. Ginny does that kind of thing where you look up the ceiling and tries to force her tears back into her eyes so she won't ruin her makeup. She takes out a compact mirror and fixes herself)

PATTY: So these on the bottom are the kind of t-shirt designs we offer. You can get one on the front or back for twenty bucks, or one on front and back for thirty five.

CUSTOMER: Alright. uhhh.

(A beat. The Customer laughs heartily)

CUSTOMER: HA. Some of these are funny.

PATTY: (forcing a smile) Yeah.

CUSTOMER: Some of them are really dirty.

PATTY: Yeah.

CUSTOMER: Um. Ok. I'll take the one that says Future Snooki on the front…or no. Future Guidette. Future guidette on the front. And then on the back, Kiss My Italian Ass with the Italian flag. (she laughs) I hope she can wear that to school. (beat) Whatever, it's funny.

PATTY: Ok. I'm gonna go to the back and make this. Ginny over there can uh, ring you up.

(Patty crosses to a door at the back of the store. The Customer crosses to Ginny)

GINNY: Alright…double sided custom shirt…that'll be…thirty-five dollars. Cash or credit?

(The Customer hands her cash. Ginny enters the amount, and gives her change. A beat)

CUSTOMER: You ok?

GINNY: Uh. Yup. I'm great. 

CUSTOMER: Ya look tired.

GINNY: Yeah.

CUSTOMER: Ya tired?

GINNY: Yeah.

(After what seems like forever, Patty comes from the back with a bag)

PATTY: Alright. Here ya are. Have a good day.

CUSTOMER: You too.

(She exits)

PATTY: Who comes in and buys that at nine am? Christ. Old people.

GINNY: He um…oh god. Now I'm gonna get all worked up again. (she collects herself) He couldn't…walk. He did so much, he couldn't walk. And I think it was because he was also on…oxy. And Dale had to carry him back to the bed, and oh god. It was so scary, Patty. (beat) It's like he's throwing his life away, all over again. I really thought…this time.

(Patty hugs her. A moment. Ginny's phone rings. It's a pink razor with some sequin stickers on it. Her ringback tone should be whatever the latest pop song is)

GINNY: Hold on. (into the phone) Hello. Yes, this is she. Uh-huh. Oh…kay. Uh what happened. 

(She walks outside. Blackout)