SCENE: On Broadway at Central, in Northeast Minneapolis. It’s late fall; winter is clearly on the way. Stray papers blow down the street, nearly deserted in, visibly chilly. Outside the boarded up remains of what had been a breakfast place catering to “laptop-class” white progressive “new urbanites”, one of many boarded up stores on that once-lively stretch of street, a small group of people stand around a fire in a trash pail.
The group includes Tyrese and TayShawnda GROVES, a 40-something black couple; Steven SPALSKI, a 31 year old white male with his girlfriend, 30 year old Summer BLEAKER; 58-year-old Cindy HARLESS; Juan and Marcella VEGA, both 50, with their 11 year old son Arturo; and 45 year old Thai NGUYEN..
A police car creeps down the rutted road, dodging potholes, the officer avoiding the gaze of the people around the fire.
TYRESE GROVES: (to Spalski): So what did you used to do?
SPALSKI: You mean…before the joy?
(The group laughs, mirthlessly)
SPALSKI: I was a graphic designer for a startup that had just done its IPO.
BLEAKER: He was in line for a ton of stock options.
MARCELLA VEGA: What happened?
SPALSKI: (sighing with a weight greater than his years): All our customers went bankrupt.
TAYSHAWNDA GROVES: Same here. We ran a little grocery store over North. We were getting by…
TYRESE GROVES: …til the “anti-gouging price controls” hit.
NGUYEN: F***ing “anti-gouging act”
(Several of the people spit onto the dirty sidewalk).
GROVES (To Juan and Thai) You?
JUAN VEGA: I ran a little repair shop. Couldn’t get parts anymore.
NGUYEN: Thai restaurant. All our wholesalers went bust.
TAYSHAWNDA GROVES: Well, they took care of the “gouging”.
(Bitter laughs ensue)
MARCELLA VEGA: At least we had all that “joy”.
(General murmurs of disgust was the group warms their hands).
A Subaru, belching oil smoke, pulls up. Two women – 27 year old Emily FRONTENAC and 48 year old Emily MONTPETIT-EMILY, roll down a window. FRONTENAC’s hair shows little flecks of long-neglected blue dye at the end of long dirty-blond roots. MONTPETIT-EMILY, a blocky-looking woman, stares ahead grimly.
FRONTENAC: Hey – do you know the guy who’s selling the gluten-free eggs?
THAI: I might.
JUAN VEGA: Hey, just a minute ( points at the shirt MONTPETIT-EMILY is wearing, which looks a little like this…
JUAN VEGA: You’re one of the “pissed off women” who dragged Harris and Piglet over the line into the white house!
MONTPETIT-EMILY: Er…uh…
SPALSKI: You’re the ones that brought us all the “Joy”!
FRONTENAC: Uh….
JUAN VEGA: I had a good life before you “pissed off white progressive women” tanked the economy!
FRONTENAC: We saved abortion rights…
HARLESS: I can’t feed my grandkids abortion rights!
FRONTENAC: But…
TAYSHAWNDA GROVES: Hey, it’s a couple of the “pissed off women!”
JUAN VEGA: You always knew better than everyone.
SPALSKI: I had a life before you and your idiot president!
(Arturo Vega picks up a small rock and whips it at the Subary, dinging off the door)
FRONTENAC: Heyyy!
NGUYEN, HARLESS and TYRESE GROVES pick up handfuls of rocks and garbage and start pelting the car, which accelarates away as SPALSKI kicks at the back bumper.
MARCELLA VEGA: Feeling the joy yet, b***h*s?
JUAN VEGA sails a rock down the street, cracking the Subaru’s back window.
TAYSHAWNDA GROVES: I’ll show you pissed off women…
(General murmurs of asssent)
NGUYEN: So what are you all having for dinner tonight?
BLEAKER: Probably more joy.
(MIrthless laughter).
SPALSKI: Never gets old, does it?
And SCENE.