The Girl Who Learned To Kneel

Two lovely old ladies, probably in their seventies, settling on a lunch date for Wednesday. Gina and Elizabeth. Gina looks like she has money. Her clothes are stylish. Not to mention her string of beads. She’s Italian and speaks with a slight accent. Elizabeth is much less delicate. She can be heard across the room. A loud Anglo-Saxon. She is wearing a velour maroon tracksuit.

GINA. I would like to make you lunch.

ELIZABETH. I would like that very much. I just have to see about my feet.

GINA. Okay, I understand.

ELIZABETH. Monday I took Natalia out for lunch. Then we baked pecan pies at my house. I did the crust, she did the filling. We enjoyed doing that together. Then Tuesday I went to the park with Natalia. Wednesday…I did something with Natalia…that was three days on my feet.

GINA. Don’t take it as a must.

Gina is a wonderful listener and always understands.

ELIZABETH. But I would like very much to have lunch with you. I think our talking is very good ventilation for all of my frustrations.

GINA. Yes, if you could talk enough…

ELIZABETH. We have had very different lives, but we both have had very hard lives. Neither of us were in marriages where we had our emotional needs met.

Gina nods. Elizabeth continues her ventilation.

ELIZABETH. You know it was my husband’s failure to assert himself that led to the failure of his military career. He was passed over for promotion, which led him to drinking.

GINA. He was bitter.

ElIZABETH. He didn’t want to take responsibility. A mark of immaturity.

GINA. Sure is.

ELIZABETH. Right. Somebody else’s fault.

They will commiserate further over roast beef sandwiches on Wednesday, assuming Elizabeth’s feet can handle the outing.

Elizabeth informs Gina that she needs to go to the front. She would like to purchase her book. She scoots into her wheel chair and Gina offers to push.

GINA. Are you ready for speeding?

Gina turns and winks.

ELIZABETH. No!

GINA. Okay, then we don’t speed.

Remember these guys?