(LIGHTS UP on Jay driving, empty passenger seat, and Thomas Guide in back next to Mapquest pages. He’s rocking to the music in his head, and the Thomas guide looks wistfully out the car window.)

Thomas Guide: It was all so different then, five years ago. Jay had just moved here, still naive, thirsty for all this town had to offer. He wanted to see everything, go everywhere, and he knew I could get him there. When he arrived his friends said, "Oh, Jay, you’ve got to get hooked up with her. You can’t get by in this town without her." And so he did. He searched me out, and he found me. A smoggy spring day, I was hanging at the Wal-mart, 433 C-2, when he walked by. He saw me and that was it. I was everything he’d been looking for. He grabbed me and pressed me tight against him, warm in the knowledge that I would take him places; I’d make him all Angeleno. He had a business brunch? Me. Hot new club? Me. Day at the beach? All me, baby. Riding up front, pressed under his hot little hand.

I mean, of course, getting started it’s never easy. Someone’s first time, it’s a lot to figure out. Initially he thought I was complicated, deliciously complex. But once he learned my language, we were off–Santa Monica, Redondo, Van Nuys, LBC. We’d do it–from the 5 to 605 to the 405 and back to the 5 again. Magic. Windows down, breeze blowing through my pages, and Jay bouncing the miles away. Through the cig alerts, Cal Trans, grapevine, and out of any tight spot (snap) in a flip. Until he knew me, knew so intimately, all the right spots… without even using the street guide. Rawer. Hollywood, ch. Downtown , foosh. He could flip from Venice —da bah da, da bah da, to Downey. He knew me in every possible way…

Until after so much time and constant companionship the best pages fell out. They’d wind up ripped and dirty, under his seat like mangled impromptu origami, or entirely saturated, thick and dripping with mocha Frappucino. Jumping into the car in a rush, he’d be on the gas and on his way, and, he’d say, "Shit! Where is 633!" His frustration was clear. I’d be looking guilty with a face of Frappy… But what could I do? It all unraveled so easily. Why couldn’t I own tape?

And then, and then… I had a sense. Something was amiss. He just started ignoring me. He might reach for me, brush his digits against me out of habit, but then I was thrown in the back. The day came he couldn’t have made it any clearer.

(Jay reaches in back seat. She thinks he’s reaching for her. He reaches past to a Mapquest page in the backseat.)

Her love letters--next to me on the seat. He wanted me to know. "Oh, Jay, where are you going? Where are you leaving from? What’s the zip code? Tell me EVERYTHING, Jay, and I’ll do ALL the work." The heartless animal. Right in front of my face. "Jay, sweetie, don’t you think you might get a bit peckish on the way? What about Denny’s, Jay? Or how about Barnes and Noble? It’s only two blocks from your final destination." The show-off. I couldn’t compete with that. Now he’ll only touch me under extreme circumstances and it’s always with disgust and regret that he forgot to contact HER before he left. He doesn’t remember my pages so well anymore.

(JAY’S CELL PHONE RINGS)

Jay: Hey, man. How’s it going? Oh, yeah. Just got back from Bob’s House of Cars.

(Jay throws Mapquest pages into backseat; they hit T.G. in the face.)

Jay: They said I can pick it up Tuesday. Tinted windows, Bose audio, 22 inch rims. It’s gonna be pimped out. And GPS, dude… It’s gonna be tight. You know what, I forgot my headset. Can I call you in ten? Cool. Bye.

Thomas Guide: (Holding Mapquest pages) G.P.S. How do you like them apples, bitch?

(LIGHTS DOWN)

• May 2, 2003 - No Shame Los Angeles
  

  Cast: Cadry Nelson, Channing Work
  

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