Written on Nov 17/13 for the Ottawa Little Theatre Play Writing Circle.
Ooo Dat Man?
Characters: two fat black women on a bus in Georgia
Pernisha, “Nisha”, middle-aged to 50-ish, rotund in a flowered dress, large handbag and small hat perched on her marcelled head. Definitely of the 'hood.
Cassiopeia, "Cassie” middle-aged to 50-ish, bit thinner, trying to look svelte in a crimpolene pant-suit with filmy over-top. Chunky jewellery. More bourgie than Nisha
Set is of row of bus seats. Pernisha sitting by herself. Passenger sitting few seats behind her, maybe a passenger or two sitting in front.
Aisle of the bus goes in front of the row of seats from stage L to stage R.
There is a cord to pull, “bing”, to let driver know someone wants to get off.
Pernisha: Yo, Cassie-gal, I dun not seen you for a donkey's age. Mine if ah sit myself down in dis spot?
Cassiopeia: You sit yo hottie ass right down here, Girl. I's bin savin' it jus for you. Was new, Babykins? How's dose churrin? Dem kids actin' da fools, buggin' ya or what? And yo man? What's his face been doin? (Looks at her appreciatively) I see he buys you da good bling.
Nisha: Ya, 'e pay fitty for dis.
Cassie: Whoa, fitty dollars! It got the looka real ice. Off the hinges. Gimme five on da bling-bling (They high-five another and ooo-wee in squealy voices) De paper wort it. My man, he knows how to love me. (both nod knowingly) So what else shakin', Nish?
Nisha: Well, you know, dis 'n dat. Dee city seem to be headin for a fall. Der's crime in da streets, da roads need fixin' and ever-where you look, der's problems. (She sniggers and elbows Cassie.) Hey, how about dat chanky Canajun mayor? You know, dat boozy, crack-smokin' man-floozy?
Cassie: Ya, who he be thinking' he is? Wat he say dat udder day? 'bout dem pussies?
Nisha: Oh ma Lawd. He done jump the couch! Why if I'da been mayor and stood der a'talkin' 'bout Wilber an me, like how I got alotta you-know-what at home and not needin' no office offerins, I mean, Jay-sus! He be pullin' a Miley der. Everyting but da nakid, heavin' body. Fo sho, he jocking her style.
Cassie: Ah hear's ya, Nisha. He dun punked his wife 'credibly. I her, I be jetting away and not turning 'round. And kin ya belieb de council allowin' dis stuff to happen? Da leader of da pack a'rompin round, drinkin', tokin', swearin' and threatenin' on da TV? An who wazzit said he was doin' lines? Some waiter somewhere. I hear he's bein' sued by dat blowhard mayor.
Nisha: Dat pol better be good'n lawyered-up or at da least, cowboyed up. What a passel o' probs dat guy got. I doan tink his bro is doin' him any good. 'e just as chanky as him! And dat mudder who tinks it's jus a tirty pound weight prolem. Wherefor are her eyes?
Cassie: And you see wot dos bros be doin' today? Day take dare beefs public and dey whip dee council room into a frenzy after some non-peeps dis da mayor, shouting, Shame, shame, fo' shame.
Nisha: De council chambers look like a tree-ring circus and his da ring-master!
Cassie: (giggling uncontrollably) Nish girl, you dish. You knows da score.
Nisha: Dat clown, he shoot da five wit da crowd all shouting and full a yelling. When a lady city councillor get close by, and her only a peanut, he lunge and knock her to da floor. She plenty shaken by dis. Real surreal! The crowd jus' dis him mo.
Cassie: My Lordy. Ooo dat man? 'ow he getting away wit dis bad behaviour? Honey chil', you tink for one mo dat me or you, if we be mayor, would ever get away wit dis nonsense?
Nisha: For one ting, Cass, no tree-hunert pound woe-man neber get voted to dat office in da first place.
Cassie: Ya, fo sho. An if she be fat, black, a lez and she shuffle her leg, sho 'nuff, she be beggin' wit her crutch at da five 'n dime and not ruling da roost. (both laugh hysterically)
Nisha: Oh you's funny, Girl! I's so happy you gets on da bus while's I be here. We sho got caught up! (she makes to gather her things, straighens her top and fusses.) Well, I's fixin' to roll out. I'm crunked 'bout watching da TV news and seein' what dat mayor done stepped in dis time. Grab dat cord, willya, Cassie. Good conversating wit ya.
Cassie: Yassiree, if ya get any mo fresh news, gimme a call. You be easy wit dose churruns and Wilber. Give 'im lots a da maul for me!
Nisha: Fo sho. I estimate that de mayor not be using his nugget and I'm spitballing in my mine dat he be a gonner 'fo Christmas.
Cassie: Gimme a high on dat 'fo you go. Yo'all be good, Missy . (They laugh, high five and C. Sashays off)
Glossary of slang
(not in the order in which it appears)
Bourgie - bourgeoise
Be easy- be calm
Beef - serious trouble
Bling - very shiny jewelry
Buggin - acting silly
Churrin - children
Crunk - excited, enthusiastic
Dis - harass
Folks - people or acquaintances
Fresh - brand new or great
Hood - your neighborhood
Ice - diamonds, jewelry with lots of diamonds
Jet - leave in a hurry
Jocking my style - copycatting
Mo - more
Off the hinges - outstanding
paper - money
Peep - friend; to look at something
Rollout - to leave
Shoot the five - to fight
Yo- a greeting
Chanky - disgusting or nasty
Conversate - to talk or have a conversation
Cowboy up - get strong or tough
Hottie - an attractive female
Jump the couch - to lose control, go crazy
Maul - to hug and kiss
Nugget - your head
Punk - to embarrass
Spitball - estimate
Surreal - unusual