Judith Glass Collins is a 6-time winner of Port Townsend’s One-Act Play Competition. Her plays have also been featured at the The Island Theatre on Bainbridge Island, Changing Scene Theatre Northwest, Baltimore Playwright’s Festival, and KNOCK Magazine’s International Play Contest Productions, sponsored by Antioch College and Freehold Theatre in Seattle. Her full length play, Tribe, was selected as a semi-finalist for both The Bridge Initiative Women’s Playwright’s Festival in Arizona and TNT Pops Festival in Texas. Two of Judith’s one-acts, Veterans’ Day and Glass Kingdom, are published by Next Stage Press. The 10-minute play Of Poisoned Pens and Palates was published in KNOCK Magazine, No. 13, May, 2010. Most recently, Ms. Collins had two plays produced at KCPT’s Dinner Theatre in Port Townsend, WA, in 2019 & 2020. Of Poisoned Pens and Palates was selected for the Spectrum 2020 Short Play Festival in St. Louis last winter. During the Pandemic the playwright had staged readings on-line of Tribe and several one-acts at Act Your Page Productions. Her monologue—Made of Glass was accepted to Equity Library Theatre.                     

Judith taught playwriting at Centrum, in Port Townsend, Summer, 2015. She is a member of The Dramatists Guild of America and International Centre for Women Playwrights. She lives on Marrowstone Island, Washington, with a husband and a menagerie of a dog and two cats. 

iChat

Characters

Red: Middle-aged woman, “conservative”

Blue: Middle-aged woman, “progressive”

AT RISE: A woman dressed in RED, wearing a strand of “June Cleaver pearls” (she lives on the East Coast) is at her computer. She has food and any other necessary “supplies” at her computer, as if she is under siege. RED is smoking a cigarette. BLUE, wearing glasses, (she lives on the West Coast) is on the opposite side of the stage. She is staring at her iPhone. BLUE is more mobile—sitting in her car, or at a café, or running errands. She is both in her own bubble and slightly paranoid that someone might be able to read over her shoulder or overhear her exclaiming to herself. RED looks pleased with herself, BLUE upset.

Ding!

BLUE
(looking at her iPhone and talking to herself) Another damn forward! What is this? Comparing a fluke snowstorm in Norfolk, Virginia, to Hurricane Katrina in New Orleans? Who are these people? Who sends this stuff to me?

She reads silently to herself as RED reads the following out loud

RED
Weather Bulletin! The Old Dominion State of Virginia just recovered from a historic event, may I even say a “weather event of biblical proportions”! 

BLUE
(to herself) Historic? Hysteric is more like it!

RED
(reading aloud, coughing occasionally) A blizzard of up to 44 inches of snow and winds to 90 miles per hour that broke trees in half, knocked down utility poles, stranded hundreds of motorists in lethal snow banks, closed ALL roads. 

BLUE
(to herself) ALL roads!  Really? How does anyone know that? 

RED
(reading again) Scores of communities were isolated, power cut to tens of thousands.  

BLUE
(impatient) And your point is…?                                                   

RED
(reading again) No one howled for the government; no one even uttered an expletive on TV. Jesse Jackson, Sean Penn, Barbra Streisand, and Geraldo didn’t visit. We melted the snow for water. Families took in stranded strangers. We fired up wood stoves, broke out coal oil lanterns.  

BLUE’S iPhone emits a farting sound.

BLUE
(to herself) Expletives, my ass! Ok, ok. Let’s have a little “eat shit” iChat, sister, brother, whoever you are!(rolling up her sleeves, typing furiously and furtively) Who are you? How can you possibly compare your diddly snowstorm to a hurricane that left 80% of New Orleans under water?  

RED
(to herself) Ah—a little iChat exchange with someone named Blue. I’m up for a joust! (typing back furiously) Perhaps I have been too concrete. Let me send you a little joke instead that will get my point across more effectively! (to herself) Let’s see—where is that file?  Ah, here it is!  

Ding!

BLUE
(to herself) Attachment. Ok, ok. (reading out loud what is in front of her on the screen) The Ant and the Grasshopper.

RED
(smug) Old version!

BLUE
(to herself, reading) The ant works hard in the withering heat all summer long, building his house and laying up supplies for the winter. The grasshopper thinks the ant is a fool and laughs and dances and plays the summer away. Come winter, the ant is warm and well fed. The grasshopper has no food or shelter, so he dies out in the cold. Ok, ok, an Aesop’s fable from elementary school. What’s the joke?

Ding! Ding! Ding!

RED
(to herself reading; Blue reads along silently) The Ant and the Grasshopper. New version! The ant works hard in the withering heat all summer long, building his house and laying up supplies for the winter. The grasshopper thinks the ant is a fool and laughs and dances and plays the summer away. Come winter, the shivering grasshopper calls a press conference, calling for an immediate tax hike on the ant to make her pay her “fair” share of taxes. Everybody cries when the grasshopper sings a rousing rendition of “It’s Not Easy Being Green.”

RED pushes a button on her computer and it emits a sorrowful violin concerto.

BLUE and RED
(to themselves) Stupid!

BLUE
(typing furiously) I think somebody needs a good dose of Empathy Training! How about walking a mile in the grasshopper’s shoes! Signed, BT&T

Ding! Ding!

RED
(typing furiously) Lighten up BT&T, alias Blue. What does BT&T stand for anyway? Born Temperamental and Touchy?

BLUE
(under her breath to herself) Blue, through and through.

RED
(typing) I sent you a joke! For goodness sake, you send me a diatribe and forward it to everyone who got “The Weather Bulletin!” 

BLUE
(triumphantly) Oops! Sorry!

BlUE’S iPhone emits a “he-he-he” sound.

RED
(typing) Now half my book club, three members of the Junior League, and my fellow co-chairman of the local Virginia Federation of Republican Women think I’m conspiring with…with…

BLUE
(to herself) What? A liberal, a progressive?

RED
(typing) A Socialist! Signed, PTB, TOP!

Ding!

BLUE
(to herself) PTB, Top? What the hell does that mean? I thought she was RED.

RED
(to herself) PTB, TOP—Proud to be the One Percent!

BLUE
(typing) Since when did socialism become a dirty word? Aren’t your hard-working ants socialists?

RED
(typing) I think they’re communal.

BLUE / RED
(to themselves simultaneously, smug) It’s the same thing. / It’s not the same thing.

RED
(typing) I’m not saying you’re Karl Marx or Emma Goldman or anybody like that. (to herself) I don’t even know if you’re a man or a woman. Are you cute?

BLUE
(to herself) You don’t even know me.

RED
(typing) I mean, you don’t even know me. I’m not a judgmental person. But, in my opinion, socialism stifles motivation, innovation, and ingenuity. For instance, wouldn’t universal health care affect our personal liberties?

RED takes a drag off her cigarette.

BLUE
(muttering to herself) Oh, yeah, look at those beleaguered people in chains, living in Sweden, England, Canada, Switzerland, Norway, New Zealand, Japan, Belgium, Netherlands…

RED
(still typing, on a roll) Are you still with me? I smoke cigarettes. Would I even be allowed to smoke if everyone were footing the bill for my health care and not just me?  

BLUE
(typing) You smoke?

A gasp from her iPhone.

RED
(typing) What of it? (to herself) Oh, here we go! (typing) Now I’m the big, bad polluter of your environment with my cancer-causing secondary smoke!

BLUE
(typing) I didn’t know Junior Leaguers…smoke!

RED
(typing) Gracious! Why not?

BLUE
(typing) Thought you all were too pure to indulge in a vice like smoking.

RED
(typing) Pure? Hah! You really mean rigid.  

BLUE
(typing) I mean, smoking has become so…

RED
(typing) Prohibited.

BLUE
(coughing, typing) Exotic.

RED
(typing) Are you calling me an exotic? Who are you? (to herself) Maybe Blue is a guy and he’s looking…

The computer emits thriller music.

BLUE
(typing) I meant it as a compliment.

Beat.

BLUE (CONT)

How did you get my email?

RED
(typing) You must be on my political listserv—“Join the Reds or be obliterated by the Feds.”

BLUE’S iPhone emits a gagging sound.

BLUE
(typing) I don’t think so. (suddenly nostalgic) Hey, remember when Reds meant Communists, and BIue was the title of the latest Joni Mitchell album?  

RED
(typing, equally nostalgic, pushing a button on her computer which plays a snatch from a 60’s or 70’s era favorite) I remember the good old days of the Cold War.

BLUE
(typing) You do? Before Red States and Blue States? Before iChat and forwards?

RED
(typing) Oh, I don’t do forwards. (to herself) Well, only when something’s really good.

BLUE
(typing) You just sent me a forward. The Weather Bulletin.

RED
(typing) I didn’t send it to you specifically—I sent it to one of my “groups.”

BLUE
(typing) For Goddess’ sake— I don’t belong to any conservative groups.

RED
(to herself) Goddess’ sake?  Lordy, lord--I’m consorting with a witch! So—she’s a woman. I think I’m iChating with another woman.

BLUE
(typing) Hey, are you still there?

RED
(typing) I’m checking my “sent” file. I forwarded “the Weather Bulletin” to some friends, and oh yes—my “family group.”

BLUE
(typing) Family group!?

RED / BLUE
(simultaneously to themselves) What the hell is she doing in my family group? / What the hell am I doing in her family group?

RED
(typing) Do you know Danielle?  She just sent me a slew of email addresses…

BLUE
(typing) Danielle? I know a Danielle.

Beat.

BLUE (CONT)
(to herself) She’s my sister-in-law.

RED
(typing) What a coincidence. Danielle is my sister. Who’s your Danielle?

BLUE
(typing) Is your Danielle married to Jonathan whose job just transferred him to Norfolk?

RED
(typing) That Jonathan is my brother-in-law. He’s married to my Danielle. How do you know about Jonathan’s job? (to herself) OMG—I’m chatting with a hacker!

BLUE
(typing) Jonathan is my brother.  

Ding!

RED
(typing) My Danielle is married to your Jonathan! (to herself) Good Lord! I’m chatting with the hippie sister-in-law who lives on the “left coast!”

BLUE
(to herself) Shit! She’s that relative in Norfolk who thinks she’s June Cleaver reincarnated!  

RED and BLUE
(typing) I’ve heard about you. 

BLUE
(typing) So—you’re red, I’m blue. Since we’re related by marriage, that must make us purple?

RED
(typing) I don’t think we have the capacity to blend. I met you at the wedding five years ago. You had a nose ring.   

BLUE
(typing) You have me mixed up with my cousin Blanche. I remember you were wearing patent leather Mary Janes—with heels.

RED
(to herself) Damn, I loved those shoes. Can’t wear heels anymore.

BLUE
(to herself) I always loved patent leather. (typing) You and me. We have more in common than you think.  

RED
(typing) Are you on the shady side of 55, too?

BLUE
(typing) That I am. (taking out a cigarette—she would have to be outside or in her car) And a smoker, too.

RED
(typing) Ah, another despoiler of personal space! Yes!

BLUE
(typing) Now it’s your turn.

RED
(typing) My turn for what?

BLUE
(typing) A sharing of a dirty little secret.

RED
(typing) I’m related to you.

BLUE
(typing) By marriage, and that’s a mutual secret. You have to come up with one of your very own.

RED
(typing) I told you I smoke.

BLUE
(typing) C’mon, now. That was no secret—that was ammunition to prove a point about the encroachment of your personal liberties!

RED
(to herself) Ok. Ok.

Beat.

BLUE
(typing) Hey, Red—are you still there?

RED
(typing) I just donated to Planned Parenthood. 

BLUE
(typing) Yes! A pissed off Republican woman!

RED
(typing) Don’t be too triumphant. My accountant said I needed more charitable contributions for my tax return.

BLUE
(typing) So why not just increase your donation to the National Rifle Association.

He-He-He sound comes out of the iPhone again, but less derisive.

RED
(typing) Cute. My husband takes care of that.

Beat.

RED (CONT)
I had another reason for donating to Planned Parenthood.  

BLUE
(typing) Are you working as a double agent?

Silence.

RED
(to herself) A debt of gratitude.

BLUE
(typing) Are you there?

Silence.

BLUE (CONT)
(to herself) Another secret?

RED
(typing) I have another secret.

BLUE
(typing) If you tell me you belong to the Sierra Club, I’m going to bust a gut.

RED
(typing) Can I trust you to keep a secret? A real secret?

BLUE
(typing, whispering) My brother doesn’t know I smoke. He thinks I quit. He’s a rabid recent convert to healthy living.

RED
(typing) This is so strange.

BLUE
(typing) Confiding in a Democrat?

RED
(typing) It’s like telling your deepest wishes to a stranger on a bus.

BLUE
(typing) When did you ever take the bus?

Beat. During the following exchange, BLUE is finally completely still.

RED
(typing) I took a long bus ride, once, out of state. I was 17.

BLUE
(typing) Were you running away?

RED
(typing) Yes. Sort of.

Beat.

BLUE
(typing) Were you running to someplace?

RED
(typing) New York.

Beat.

BLUE
(typing) Why New York?

RED
(typing) Abortions were legal in the State of New York.

BLUE
(to herself) Ah…

RED
(typing) Blue, are you there?  

Beat.  

RED (CONT)
Are you shocked?

BLUE
(typing, very aware of her surroundings or of being overheard) They were also legal in the State of Washington.

RED
(typing) You, too?

BLUE
(typing) I took the bus from Sacramento. I was 16.       

RED
(typing) Did you go by yourself?

BLUE
(typing) With a girlfriend.

RED
(typing) Me too. Parents know?

BLUE
(typing) No way, Jose.

RED
(typing) Me neither. They thought I went to Bible Camp.

BLUE
(typing) I was supposedly camping in Mt. Ranier Park with some cousins from Everett.  

RED
(typing) What little liars we were.

BLUE
(typing) We were desperate.

RED
(typing, whispering even though she is by herself)  Did you tell your husband?

BLUE
(typing) No. Well, yes…eventually. Yours?

RED
(typing) Wouldn’t compute with who he thinks I am.

BLUE
(typing) My husband and I pretend I don’t smoke. Doesn’t fit with his image of me as “earth mother.”  

RED
(typing) Are you sure you don’t have a nose ring?

BLUE
(typing) I remember meeting you at the wedding.

RED
(typing) You thought I was a tight ass.

BLUE
(typing) Well, shut my mouth.

RED
Didn’t you?

BLUE
(typing) Ok. Yes! I did. I did think you were a tight assed…something or other.  

Beat.  

BLUE (CONT)
(typing) You sneered at my tattoo.

RED
(typing) Right! Right! That’s it! You had a panther traveling down your arm.

BLUE
(typing) Well, I wasn’t prepared for the heat. I had to roll up my sleeves. I was dying.

RED
(typing) I wasn’t sneering. I was peering. I was trying to be discreet. I was fascinated.

Beat.

RED (CONT)
(to herself) Are you still there?

BLUE
(typing) What happened in New York?

RED
(typing) I went to Planned Parenthood. My girlfriend had an address. I lied about my age. They pretended I was telling the truth. They gave me my choices back.  

BLUE
(typing) I was so afraid my parents would find out.

RED
(typing) I was afraid of going to Hell.

BLUE
(typing) So you went back to Norfolk?

RED
(typing) By way of Bible Camp. I was a little late. Danielle covered for me.

BLUE
(typing) Danielle seems cool.

RED
(typing) For someone who’s married to the head of the local chapter of Focus on the Family. Yes.  

BLUE
(typing) Whoa! You have the wrong Jonathan. Danielle’s married to my brother. He’s a Wiccan.

RED
(typing) Come again?

BLUE
(typing) It’s kind of like being a Social Democrat.

RED
(typing) Not anymore. He’s born again.

BLUE
(typing) Can’t be.  

Beat.  

BLUE (CONT)
Danielle must have brainwashed him.

RED
(typing) Danielle is the one who turned me on to Women Unite.

BLUE
(typing) What’s that?

RED
(typing) It’s a brand new website. It isn’t exclusively red or blue…

BLUE
(typing) It’s purple?

RED
(typing) It’s…I can’t say it. I can’t say the word. It’s the “b” word.

BLUE
(to herself) Bitch? Bisexual?

RED
(typing) Bi-partisan.  

BLUE gasps.

RED (CONT)
(typing) Danielle put me on their list.

BLUE
(typing) Your sister, my brother---they’re the double agents!

RED
(typing) There’ll be a lot to talk about at the family reunion this Spring.   

BLUE
(typing) I got an Evite. My brother said your family was opening the event up—

RED
(typing, tongue in cheek) To outside agitators?

BLUE
(typing) In-laws. I wasn’t going to go—too expensive.  

RED
(typing) I wasn’t going to go—too boring.   

Beat.  

RED (CONT)
(tying) Usually.

Beat.

BLUE
(typing) You and me--we could “jazz” it up?

RED
(typing) The Purple People Greeters. You could stay with me.

BLUE
(typing) Are you sure you’d be comfortable with that?

RED
(typing) We could build you a temporary yurt in our backyard.

BLUE
(typing) Listen to you! A yurt!

RED
(typing) Don’t underestimate me!

BLUE
(typing) I’m learning.

Beat.

During the closing of the play, there is a reluctance by RED and BLUE to disengage from iChat, but RED’s alert on her computer goes off.  

RED
(typing) Thanks for the iChat.

BLUE
(typing) You’re signing off?

RED
(typing) It’s time for my bikram yoga class.  

BLUE
(typing) Isn’t that the yoga you do naked in a steambath?

Ding!

RED
(typing) We cover ourselves in special red mud afterward.  

Ding!  

RED (CONT)
(typing) You know, I can’t let you have the last word.

BLUE
(typing) I know. How about we just sign off simultaneously…TBC.

RED and BLUE
(typing) To be continued…

Blackout.