Impact by Peg Tittle


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This Play is the copyright of the Author and must NOT be Performed without the Author's PRIOR consent


CHARACTERS

WOMAN - a victim of sexual assault

FIRST MAN - one of the two accused

SECOND MAN - the other accused

MALE GUARD

FEMALE GUARD

Note: When one character speaks to audience or to her/himself, the
other characters freeze.

SET

The entire play takes place in a cell-like room in a prison

There is a table and two chairs, with shackles set into the table in front of each chair

This is where the two men will sit

On the other side, there is one chair

This is where the woman will sit

The door to the room is at the back - it has a half-window so the
guards can be seen to their waist where their gun is worn

TIME

In a slightly near future when the court process is slightly
different, allowing this post-trial but pre-sentence confrontation

ACT ONE

SCENE 1

A woman in her mid-twenties, wearing a simple blouse, jacket, skirt,
and heels, waits in a room. A room that looks much like a cell, with
its concrete floor, its concrete walls. She sits at a bare table. In
an uncomfortable chair

She pulls a folder from the bag resting on the floor beside her and lays
it onto the table in front of her

Two young men, both in their early twenties, both in prison garb are
brought in by the two Guards who sit them in the two chairs opposite her,
then cuff their hands to the heavy rings set into the table

The guards leave

The men stare across the table at the woman.

FIRST MAN: Who are you?

WOMAN: (disconcerted, then with disbelief) Who am I?

FIRST MAN: Yeah. Are you our new lawyer? Figures. (He snorts with
disgust.)

The woman looks at the second man. He too doesn't recognize her.

WOMAN: Do we really all look the same to you?

WOMAN: (to audience; MEN freeze) Is it that simple? That horrible?

WOMAN: I'm the waitress at Bud's Bar.

FIRST MAN: Oh yeah. You do look a little familiar.

WOMAN: I'm the woman you assaulted. Sexually.

MAN: (casually) No.

WOMAN: What do you mean 'No'?

FIRST MAN: (shakes his head) Don't know what you're talking
about. (He looks over at the second man.) Do you know what she's
talking about?

The second one shakes his head, grinning slightly. He'd like to
cross his arms on his chest, but the shackles prevent it. Instead, he
leans back as far as possible and spreads his legs far apart.

WOMAN: That night, after closing- (It starts as a reminder, but
ends as an insistence.)

FIRST MAN: That was you? Okay, yeah (He smiles. As if
remembering a rather pleasant day at the beach.) But you wanted it.
(He turns to his buddy for confirmation. Because it isn't really a
question.) Didn't she? (He turns back to the woman.) You
remembered it wrong. As we said in court.

WOMAN: (with vehemence) I didn't remember it wrong! It was
pouring. You offered me a ride.

FIRST MAN: (smugly) And you said 'Yes.'

FIRST MAN: (to audience; second man and woman freeze) She is so
naïve.

WOMAN: "To the ride! Not to sex!"

WOMAN: (to audience; the men freeze) Do they really think that
consent to one means consent to the other? That when a woman accepts
a ride-or an invitation to a party, or a drink, or dinner
Perhaps. After all, men define-everything. (She sighs.)

FIRST MAN: As I recall, you said 'Yes, please'. (He grinned.)

WOMAN: (she reminds him) And yet, here we are.

FIRST MAN: (looking away) Not for long, bitch.

WOMAN: (ignoring that) Did you hear me say 'Yes' to the sex?

FIRST MAN: Didn't hear you say 'No.' (He snickers.)

WOMAN: But I did. Say 'No.' Several times. Loudly. Clearly.

FIRST MAN: (cheerfully, definitively) Didn't hear you.

WOMAN: (ignoring that as well) Besides which, it's not like the
default is consent. You don't assume 'Yes' unless otherwise
indicated. You assume 'No' unless otherwise indicated.

FIRST MAN: Well, maybe we can just agree to disagree about that. (He
smiles. It's such a patronizing smile.)

WOMAN: Do you figure you have the right to just walk into someone's
house without an invitation? Rummage through their closets and
drawers, handle their books, touch their mementos- (She shudders.
One could always get new clothes, but the rest-would be permanently
soiled.)

He doesn't respond. It was a stupid question. That was break and
enter.

WOMAN: You think the rules are 'It's okay unless the person says
it's not'?

He snorts.

WOMAN: Then what makes you think you have the right to come into my
body without an invitation?

WOMAN: (to audience; the men freeze) I knew they'd refuse to
accept the analogy. A woman's body isn't a house. It's public
property. It was part of why contraception and abortion are
issues.

WOMAN: (continuing to audience) Of course, I don't accept the
analogy either. My body isn't my house. It's-me. (she lifts
her hands helplessly) And now I can't just-move.

FIRST MAN: So, what, we have to ask now? (He stares at her in
disbelief.)

(She stares at him in disbelief.)

WOMAN: Yes!

WOMAN: (to audience; the men freeze) Why is that so
objectionable? (after a moment) Ah. To ask for permission is a sign
of weakness.

WOMAN: (reconsidering) Then again, no. If you have to ask whether a
woman wants you, she probably doesn't. If she wants you, she'll
move toward you, rather than away from you. For starters. Right?

WOMAN: (getting to walk around the room a bit, speaking to audience;
the men freeze) Seriously, how clueless are these guys? (Suddenly,
she stops, then turns slowly to face audience) Could it be that
neither one has ever made love? Or even made like? Has never engaged
in simple, mutual pleasuring?

So they honestly don't know. They genuinely think this was the way
it's supposed to be. Because it's all they've ever seen. In
the porn they no doubt watch. It's all they've ever heard about.
From their bragging buddies.

(as an aside) Which begs the question, why is rape something to brag
about?

(resuming main thread) Even if they've gone to prostitutes-
Most are raped while on the job. They're four hundred times more
likely, than everyone, to die on the job. (She gives the audience a
moment to digest that.)

(resuming the main thread again) What these guys need is a few
sessions with a sex therapist.

Because absent love, or even friendship, genuine friendship-thank
you social media for conflating acquaintanceship and
friendship-between young men and women that might lead to
affectionate sexual interaction

The sex/gender divide is so great now-walk into any toy
store-it's nearly impossible to cross over and just talk to
someone on the other side. Surely a prerequisite. What would they
talk about? All they know about the other, all they've been told,
by television, by advertisements

Worse, all they know about the other's sexuality, informed not even
by porn, but by the ubiquitous pop music saturating their lives,
pumping them full of sexualized energy-it's a far cry from the
Pointer Sisters singing about a slow hand

'Course even back then, did men listen to the Pointer Sisters?

They laughed at Barry White.

SECOND MAN: We didn't mean to hurt you. We just meant to have a
little fun.

Jarred out of her thoughts, the WOMAN turns to him. She considers
what he's said, then returns to the table. She opens the folder and
spreads the eight-by-tens onto the table in front of them. Like tarot cards.

WOMAN: Does that look like fun? For me?

The first man glances at the photographs, then looks up at her

He shrugs.

The second one's eyes widen before he looks away.

WOMAN: This is how you have fun?

WOMAN: (to audience; the men freeze) 'Course what people, almost
always men, mean when they say 'We were just having fun' is 'We
don't want to be held responsible for what we did' or 'We
didn't think it through.'

FIRST MAN: (shrugging) Sorry. Is that what you want to hear? Is
this one of those victims' rights things? Are you here to tell us
what bad boys we are?

He laughs and grins at his buddy. Who grins back.

WOMAN: No, I'm here to ask why. Why did you rape me?

FIRST MAN: Because we can.

The second man giggles. Sort of.

WOMAN: (standing up in anger) This is all just a big joke to you, is
it?

The MALE GUARD happens to pass by the door, so she signals to him.
She needs a break.


SCENE 2

The MALE GUARD escorts the WOMAN back into the room.

SECOND MAN: (a little too eagerly, before she's even seated) We
thought you were okay with it. We thought you wanted it. It
wasn't rape. It was just-sex.

She selects one of the photographs from the folder, then leans across
the table and shoves it into his face.

WOMAN: You thought I wanted-this? Why in god's name would you
think anyone would want this?

SECOND MAN: Okay, maybe we, maybe he (nodding to the FIRST MAN) got a
little carried away, but-

FIRST MAN smirks.

WOMAN: (still standing) Why would you think I wanted any of it? Why
would you think I want some guy I don't even know to stick his penis
into me?

SECOND MAN: But you know us! We're regulars!

WOMAN: (to audience; the men freeze) Well, that was true. It was
partly why I'd accepted the ride. They were regulars. And they
seemed like nice guys. In fact, I think they're students at the
university. (She grimaces.) None of which, now, seems to vouch for
their character, their morality.

WOMAN: That's not-that's not knowing you. And even if I did
know you, that doesn't mean I want to have sex with you.

SECOND MAN: (with genuine confusion) But you're always smiling at
us.

WOMAN: It's my job!

WOMAN: (to audience; the men freeze) It's every woman's job. To
smile at men. To appease them. To make them feel good. But then
- Damned if you do

WOMAN: (continuing to audience with this new thought) No wonder men
don't like it when women don't smile.

WOMAN: (to the second man) I was just being friendly! When a woman
is friendly toward you, that doesn't mean she wants to have sex with
you!

WOMAN: (standing to pace; to audience; the men freeze) Are they so
blind to nuance, to subtlety, to the whole spectrum of social
engagement?

Perhaps. The world is certainly going in that direction, society is
devolving, moving backwards, from complexity to simplicity. Texting
prevents full expression. Emoticons are essentially pictograms.

Men in particular seem insensitive to communication. I was going
to say they aren't as good with words as women, then I was going to
say they aren't as good with body language

It would make things so much easier if we were open and clear, if we
didn't have such a taboo about talking about sex. Though, oddly
enough, words like fuck and cunt seem to come pretty easily to most
people. So why isn't 'Do you want to have sex?' just as
not-awkward?

Perhaps these two are just especially inept, misinterpreting social
signals, failing to appreciate the multiple possibilities.

Or maybe there are no multiple possibilities for men. Men consider
kissing to be foreplay. Everything but penetration is foreplay,
something inevitably leading to penetration. Because sex is defined
as penetration, penis-in-vagina. Women, on the other hand, might
define a kiss, and many other things other than penetration, as the
desirable end point in and of itself.

(this time more to herself) Or maybe-maybe I'm the one who
doesn't know the language? (The thought startles her.) Maybe I'm
the inept one. Maybe accepting one kind of invitation does mean
accepting another. Now.

(to the audience again) No, maybe men and women just use different
languages. And there isn't a word for 'no' in their language.
Not that can be spoken by a woman.

SECOND MAN: (trying to explain) You didn't scream.

WOMAN: I'm not a screamer. I use my words. And I did say 'No.'

WOMAN: (to audience; the men freeze) And actually, I did scream.
When the first one-

FIRST MAN: 'No means yes, yes means anal.' (He laughs.)
Didn't you get the memo? Came from Yale even.

WOMAN: So you did hear me. Say 'No.' I also said 'STOP!'
and 'GET OFF ME!' Tell me, what part of 'STOP' and 'GET OFF
ME!' didn't you understand?

SECOND MAN: We thought you were just-

WOMAN: Did I look like I was just- What, bluffing? Kidding?

WOMAN: (to audience; the men freeze) Then again, how could they
know? They didn't look at me. Not really.

FIRST MAN: You didn't really fight back.

WOMAN: I did so! I tried to push you off me. I tried to get out
from under you.

He shrugs.

WOMAN: And anyway, why should I have to fight back? Victims of other
kinds of assault don't have to prove they resisted or that they didn't consent.

FIRST MAN: Well yeah. Because no one in their right mind would
consent to be beaten up. (He laughs.)

She stares at him. Waiting. In vain.

SECOND MAN: We didn't think you meant it.

WOMAN: (to audience; the men freeze) Right. Men never take women
seriously. Why should this be any different? What we say, what we
do-none of it means anything. Certainly not anything important.

WOMAN: Didn't you realize I suddenly went still?

WOMAN: (to audience; the men freeze) I'd hoped that would minimize
the injuries. If I stopped moving. Stopped struggling.

FIRST MAN: Yeah, we just figured you were frigid or something.

She considers that.

WOMAN: Okay, and what does that mean? Doesn't it mean a woman
doesn't enjoy sexual intercourse?

WOMAN: (to audience; the men freeze) Or that you're not doing it right.

WOMAN: (to the men) So wouldn't that make you stop?

FIRST MAN shrugs.

WOMAN: (standing to pace; to audience; the men freeze) Right.
Whether or not a woman enjoys sex is irrelevant. We have vaginas,
they're meant to have penises shoved in them, and especially if
they've had penises shoved in them before, well, what's the big deal.
Though they haven't mentioned that yet.

And if the woman hasn't had a penis shoved in her vagina before,
then, what, they're doing her a favour? Helping her out?
Breaking her in? (She couldn't wrap her head around the logic.
Because there was none. Or there was. And it was just so-)

SECOND MAN: (trying again) Look, we thought you liked it.

FIRST MAN: (taking over) Most women do. You pretend you don't,
but deep down you do.

WOMAN: (turning slowly to face the men) Most women like rape?

FIRST MAN: (nodding) I know for a fact that you like it when we hold
you down, when we use force.

FIRST MAN: (to audience; the other two freeze) There. Let her deal
with that.

WOMAN: (to audience; the men freeze) I doubt he knows anything for a
fact. It 's just the way some people, mostly men, talk. It makes them appear
knowledgeable. Presenting opinion as fact is how people, typically men, achieve
and maintain their status as authorities, experts, fonts of wisdom 'I know for a
fact' just means 'I'm guessing it's true.' Or 'I hope it's true.'

FIRST MAN: It's a turn-on. Admit it.

WOMAN: And you know this because-?

FIRST MAN: (rolling his eyes) It's common knowledge, isn't it.

WOMAN: (returning to the table) I want to be sure I understand you.
You think most women like this?

She presents the photographs again. He refuses to look.

WOMAN: (angrily) Oh no, you don't get to turn away. LOOK!

She stands up, reaches over, grabs his hair, and forces him to look.

WOMAN: LOOK AT WHAT YOU DID TO ME!

The MALE GUARD appears at the door. He glances inside, then,
concluding that he is not needed, goes away.

WOMAN: You did this to me! (She points to the photographs, one at a
time.) And this! And this! Can you honestly tell me you thought I'd like it?
Would you like it?

He doesn't answer.

WOMAN: Then why do you think I'd like it?

She sits back down. Suddenly exhausted.

FIRST MAN: (insisting) You women like this sort of thing!

WOMAN: 'You women'? You've done this to other women? And they
liked it? How did you know? When they struggled, you thought that
meant they were having fun? When they begged you to stop? When they
cried? When they screamed, you thought that meant they were enjoying
it? And then when they just lay there, limp, hoping to get out of it alive, you
thought they were having a good time?

No response.

WOMAN: Yes, many women moan during sex and cry out when they have an
orgasm. Can you honestly not tell the difference between those moans
and cries and my moans and cries?

And that's when she knows for sure. She looks at the audience
pointedly, then turns back to the men.

WOMAN: You've never had sex. Real sex. Good sex. Sex with a
woman who wanted it. Neither one of you. You don't know what
happens when a woman has an orgasm.

The FIRST MAN snorts.

WOMAN: (anticipating) A real woman. A woman who's not acting in a
porn film. You know they're acting, right?

The looks on their faces register.

WOMAN: You thought porn was real? They're actors! Following a
script! The director tells the woman to pretend she likes it. Pretend.
Understand? It's make-believe.

WOMAN: (to audience; the men freeze) (confirming her earlier hunch)
All of their knowledge about sex is based on porn. Men's fantasies.
And why do men fantasize about raping, about hurting and humiliating, women?

WOMAN: (continuing, to the men) Even prostitutes are acting.
They're saying and doing whatever they think will make them the most
money. Many of them are acting for their lives. If they don't keep
their customers satisfied, their employer, their pimp, will punish
them. Hurt them. Horribly. In fact, many of them are actual
prisoners. They've been kidnapped. Specifically to be bought and
sold. Against their will. Ever hear of sex trafficking? Prostitution rings?
They've been told what to wear, what to say, what to do. It's all an act.

FIRST MAN: (grinning knowingly) Oh, I'm pretty sure they're
enjoying it.

She just stares at him. And her whole body sighs into her chair.

WOMAN: (to audience; the men freeze) Yeah. Because quite apart from
that, prostitution institutionalized the idea that men have a right
- at least an economic right - to women's bodies. The idea that
sex is a female service. As Brownmiller pointed out.

WOMAN: (to the men) Then you're easy to fool.

WOMAN: (to the audience; the men freeze) Because you're not
interested in facts. You're not interested in truth.

I doubt they watch any erotica. I doubt they even know about
erotica. Because the erotica industry can't compete with the porn
industry. Hell, not even the NFL can compete with the porn industry.
And why is that?

So the closest they can come would be to watch some of the steamier
scenes in-chick flicks. So never gonna happen.

WOMAN: (to the men) You've never seen consensual sex, have you.
You've never seen two people make love. Say a man and a woman,
caressing each other, lingering with their hands on each other's
body, slowly undressing each other, kissing, touching, stroking, each
of them getting hotter, each of them getting more excited, until
eventually, it might take half an hour, but that's okay because it
feels so good, the woman eventually comes, usually because the man has
been tickling her clitoris in a crazy-making way, and then the man
enters her, and moves in and out, sometimes slowly, sometimes quickly,
and sometimes she comes again in the time it takes for him to come,
and then they lay together, lazily, tangled up in each other,
languidly, with such

Both men are just staring at her. The SECOND MAN has his mouth
slightly open.

WOMAN: (mostly to herself) And you'll probably never have
consensual sex. You'll probably never make love.

WOMAN: (to the audience; the men freeze) You know, the first one is
rather good-looking, by contemporary standards. (puzzled) Surely he
doesn't have to rape. (sighing when she understands) But as one of
the beautiful people, he would have received, throughout his life,
better jobs, better pay, more credit, more attention And those to
whom much is given expect that much, and more. That is, he feels
entitled. To whatever he wants.

And it's quite possible he doesn't want real sex. He doesn't
want a real relationship with a woman; his relationships with men are
more important. Men are more important.

SECOND MAN: (in a small voice, responding to what she'd last said
to them) What makes you say that?

WOMAN: Well, because I can't imagine any- You're not- What's there
about you to love?


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