Character: AMY, female, 20s-30s
AMY: Am I allowed to speak now?
I guess so since I kind of, uh, ended the scene.
I forgot the safe word. I’m sorry about that. I panicked. It happens. No biggie, right?
Mind if I smoke?
There’s the benefit of you being the strong silent type. I’ll ash in this glass. I promise I’ll clean it before I leave.
(Removes a pack of cigarettes from her bag.)
I don’t normally smoke. I keep a pack in my purse. I find that I go to them when I’m feeling socially awkward. You know, in a bar or whatever. I hate being in a room full of people. I dunno…I’m really a social person but I find it hard to make the first move. You know, initiate conversation. I always find that the friends I make are with the people I meet outside smoking at bars. They’re usually, I dunno, like…immediately interesting. Like, maybe they’re not really but maybe I’m just attracted to people who do something, like, blatantly unhealthy. Like, you’ve gotta be kind of fucked in the head to enjoy lighting some dead nasty leaves on fire and inhaling them and not even getting high or anything. You know? So I keep them with me to make friends. Wow. I make friends giving myself lung cancer! That just makes me a big hot mess, doesn’t it? At least I don’t smoke Newports… now those are disgusting, a friend of mine smokes them and the stench is positively vile…