My Pineapple Heart

I wrote a draft of a play called "My Pineapple Heart."  In acquaintance of mine (yes, I am allowed to have an acquaintance,) MaryBeth, mentioned that she had a very small pineapple (smaller than normal) and my friendquaintance (one step up from an acquaintance) Wooz was taking plays for his yearly Valentine show at St. James Tavern.  This didn't get picked, but I thought I would share. It still needs a lot of work, but this is probably the last I will ever touch it.

My Pineapple Heart


Guy
Hi, anyone sitting here?

Girl
Not anymore.

Guy
I’ve seen you here at the St. James a couple of times. 

Girl
Oh yeah, you were playing pool?

Guy
You… you noticed me?

Girl
Ha! No. It’s just that there’s a pretty good chance that anyone coming here was or is going to play pool.

Guy 
I can’t help but see that you have a pineapple strapped to your chest.

Girl
Oh? Is it noticeable?

Guy 
Well, it’s a small pineapple. Smaller than normal.

Girl
His name is Charles, but I call him Charlie.

Guy 
Do you carry it in case of a fruity drink emergency?

Girl
No.

Guy
Is it some kind of Japanese fashion trend?

Girl
No.

Guy
Did you lose a bet?

Girl
This is my heart.

Guy
Your heart?

Girl
My heart. The mass of muscle that beats endlessly and keeps us alive. My heart.

Guy
You mean it’s a symbol of your heart.

Girl
No.  My heart was taken from me.

Guy 
Stolen?

Girl
Ripped out.  Ripped right out. I was lying there on the floor about to die, but I was able to reach Charlie. Somehow, I made it though. I fashioned this sling to keep it on me.

Guy
Who took your heart?

Girl
A guy. His name is Joe.

Guy
Is he the guy you come here with?

Girl
Yeah.  Used to.

Guy
So Joe, I assume, broke up with you, took your heart and this pineapple heart is the replacement.

Girl
The pineapple is perfect for me to replace my heart. It’s smaller than normal. It’s spikey in all sorts of places. It’s ugly. The core is rough and gritty. But if you know how to work your way in there, there is sweetness inside. Was. Not sure anymore.

Guy
I’ve seen you here before.  I’ve always wanted to talk to you, but you’ve always been with a guy. With Joe.

Girl
You’ve been watching me?

Guy
Not in a creepy way.

Girl
When you watch someone more than once and you don’t say hello, it’s creepy.

Guy
I think that Joe guy would not have appreciated me coming over to say hello.

Girl
Joe didn’t appreciate much.

Guy
How long are you going to wear that?

Girl
Forever. Until I’m dead. Whichever comes first.

Guy
Listen. I’m just the creepy guy playing pool that stares as you, but you’ve got to know that there’re other guys out there.

Girl
That… that is so cheesy. 

Guy
What I mean is this: this pineapple isn’t your heart. And Joe didn’t rip it out of you. You gave it to him. You let him have it. And he broke it.

Girl
Yes. I guess you are right.

Guy
But hearts aren’t made to give. They are meant to be shared. Equally. With someone who I… someone you loves you as much as you love them.

Girl
I… I think I know what you are saying.

Guy
Yes?

Girl
I’ve been blind this whole time!

Guy
Yes!

Girl
I don’t need to give my heart away, I need to share it.

Guy
Yes! Share it!

Girl
Thank you! I’m going to go find Joe and give it another chance.  Thank you!

Guy
But! But I..

Girl
I did it all wrong  the first time around. This time, things will be different. Thank you!

(She kisses him on the cheek.)

GIRL
I don’t need this anymore. (She removes the pineapple and throws it on the bar.)

Joe! (She leaves.)

The guy stands up and watches her go. He then clutches his chest and bends over in pain.  With a gasp, he reaches for the pineapple and puts it on. 

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