Scene One
Glama Bus near LAX, Saturday midday
Lights up. We are looking through the front windshield of a tour bus. A sign across the top of the bus says, "GLAMA Tours". Angel, a Hispanic male in his 40's, is driving the bus. Jeff, a male 33, is in the seat on Angel's right. Jeff has a clipboard.
JEFF
Don't you just love Saturdays, Angel? We say, "Bon voyage" to last week's tour group and say "Welcome to Los Angeles" to a new group of travelers.
ANGEL
I like Saturdays because we get our tips. But I like Tuesdays better ‘cuz, once we drop everybody off at Disneyland, I can sleep all day.
Jeff looks at his clipboard.
JEFF
About half of this week's tour is already put up at the hotel. We've got eleven to pick up here at the airport right now. After we're done, I'm going to pick up Mr. and Mrs. Evans over at Union Station.
ANGEL
I hope you're picking them up in a Glama Tours van, because if they're afraid of flying - I can't imagine the white knuckles they'd have riding in your car.
JEFF
They're not afraid of flying. They just think that train travel is romantic. That's all.
ANGEL
Would it ruin the romance to take a cab from the stain tration - I mean, train station? I don't suppose that you picking them up would have anything to do with the fact that Anita's shop is just across the street from the station!?
JEFF
I was planning to stop and visit Anita while I was in the neighborhood.
ANGEL
Why don't you just marry her, Jeff? Make an honest woman of her.
JEFF
Why don't you just drive the coach?
ANGEL
Have you told her yet? ...that you own Glama Tours? The whole wall of backs?
JEFF
No. And you’re not going to tell her either. You’re certainly not going to tell any of the guests because the tips won’t be as good if they know that I own the company.
ANGEL
Wild horses couldn’t drag it out of me. Wild Turkey, maybe, but not wild horses. I just think she’s proven that she’s not after you for your money. She even rides in your car. She’s a good girl who has been hurt. When that rotten ex-husband of hers ran off to Mexico and just left her with the kids.... Well, she’s had enough hurt for one life.
JEFF
I know. I don’t want her to get hurt either. Here we are. You know the drill.
ANGEL
I’ll make one circle around the airport and then I’ll start loading the bus.
JEFF
Don’t call it a bus. Call it a coach. For what they’re paying, the customers deserve a deluxe motor coach.
ANGEL
Okay, coach.
Angel stops the bus and Jeff exits. Lights go down. Angel rolls the bus seats off stage in the dark. The bus front rises on a rail.
Continue to Scene Two
Copyright © 2003 William Armstrong
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