SIN DYKES
Produced by Jenifer Dean
A box office sell out
A hard-hitting comedy which puts the sting in the story of black and white relationships.
Dedicated to the late Jenny White, writer, artist and journalist, who believed in this play and encouraged me to stage it.
The spirit of you permeates Sin Dykes, thank you.
The story of one woman’s exploration of sexuality, as she comes face to
face with the issues of relationships between Black and White, SM in
mixed relationships, and SM in relationships between black women.
Set in the late 1990s, in London, dykes are out of the closet. Black
dykes openly do SM, dykes openly sleep with gay men. There is dialogue,
debate, and outrage, but nobody is listening any more.
What the critics said:
`Sharply written’
`Sexiest lesbian play ever’
`This play raises some crucial points about the relations between race and sexuality, and about the difference between abusive violence and consensual violence. Mason-johns sharply satirical wit, keeps the audience engaged’
`Brush up on your hanky codes with sin dykes’
extract from Sin Dykes:
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GILL’s bed sit. The next day.
GILL is in bed nestled under the duvet. Telephone by bedside dresser
rings. She stirs. It rings again. An arm appears from beneath duvet and
grabs receiver, pulls it under the covers.
GILL (speaking from under duvet). Hello … (Slams receiver down. Sound
of another phone ringing, similar bell. Sits up in bed, looks around
room, and suddenly grabs jacket from a chair beside bed. Pulls a mobile
out.) Of course you’ve bloody woken me up … What time is it? …
You’re joking, ring me later.
Snaps mobile shut and switches it off, puts it back on chair, and
snuggles under duvet. Sound of first phone again, she ignores it. Goes
to grab the mobile, and stops midway, realising it’s telephone set.
Picks up receiver and lies back down. Pauses in following should be long
enough to allow Gill to be seen reacting variously to the other person.
GILL. Wrong number, ring 999 … I don’t care how urgent it is … No
you can’t come round … I’m not a bloody locksmith … What type of key
… Handcuffs! (Sits up in bed.) What like the pigs use? … Am I
supposed to laugh? … Actually I gave them back with the uniform, sorry
… No! … That’s your problem, I’m wrecked, I need my sleep … I’ll
look, but that’s all I’m doing. Hold on.
Puts receiver down and bends over bed, pulls a small trunk from beneath
bed. Opens it and rummages around. Closes the trunk and pushes it back
under bed, and picks receiver up.
GILL. You’re in luck … No promises it will fit … Don’t push your
luck … No! … Tomorrow … Five hours … Three … One and a half, I
need to chill.
Hangs up, leaving the phone off the hook. Aggressively throws herself
under duvet. Door bell rings.
GILL (shouts from beneath her duvet). I’m out.
TRUDY lets herself in. She carries a bag. GILL pulls the duvet off her
face.
TRUDY. Are you alright?
GILL. Oh just a bad dream.
TRUDY moves the clothes and phone off the chair and sits down. She looks
around the room.
TRUDY. You’re not going to stay in bed all day?
GILL. Oh not now, I’m sleeping.
TRUDY. No peace for the wicked.
GILL. Look, entertain yourself.
TRUDY. How comes you’re in bed alone?
GILL (sits up in bed). Oh you know how it is. I was up the Rub Club last
night, dropped an E, and spent half the night fisting in the toilets. I
ran out of KY and rubber gloves. And then Suzanne came along and
propositioned me.
TRUDY. Sometimes you’re so boring. Obviously the ‘E’ still hasn’t worn
off. Why don’t you admit you’re losing your charm?
GILL. Now I might be on ‘E’, but I’m not stupid. You didn’t come all the
way over here, to give me a hard time. You normally ring me to do that.
And if you did, you know where the front door is.
TRUDY. I’ve brought you breakfast.
GILL. What’s the celebration?
TRUDY. Six months of separation.
GILL. You’re strange, its all those self empowering workshops you go to.
TRUDY. Well it’s an achievement to break up. Not everyone manages it.
Most of us hang on in there to the bitter end, almost destroying each
other.
GILL. Trudy I can’t cope, with deep and meaningfuls so early in the
morning. Pass me the skins.
TRUDY. It’s two o’ clock in the afternoon.
GILL. Who cares what the time is! Pass me the skins, and I’ll build a
big fat joint to go with brekky. You know where everything is?
TRUDY. I’ve brought everything including paper plates and cups.
TRUDY unfolds a paper tablecloth and puts it on the bed, unwraps fresh
bagels, salmon and cream cheese. GILL looks for her dope, searching her
clothes while talking.
GILL. I know we’ve been working at friendship for six months, but what’s
this in aid of? (Gives up looking and takes half a joint from the
ashtray on her dresser and passes it to TRUDY.) Here, you light up.
TRUDY. No thanks. You got me into that shit. I’m trying to stop. I came
round for an honest chat / you’re the only person I feel safe speaking
GILL. I knew it-
TRUDY. Kat is up on her high horse, screaming black girls don’t do SM,
and my other mates refuse to talk about it.
GILL. I knew you had something else up your sleeve. Shit, where are the
matches?
GILL gives up looking and puts joint back in the ashtray. TRUDY passes
her a bagel and takes one herself. They both take a bite.
TRUDY. Please Gill, I’m serious. I’ve decided to play.
GILL. You what! (Puts her bagel down on dresser.)
TRUDY. Play, I want to explore and experiment with sex.
GILL. Great! What made you change your mind? This is worth celebrating.
Where is the champagne?
TRUDY. I knew you would support me.
GILL. Does that mean we’re back together again? Separation was
definitely worth the angst.
TRUDY puts her bagel down on the bed.
TRUDY. Gill … I want to play with Clio.
GILL. Oh, oh, I see, it’s just that I thought maybe we would perhaps …
Note: actors should play the following sequence up to [add page no.] as
an intimate and physical scene, through contact, and use of voice/tone.
TRUDY. It’s over between us as lovers. I’ve moved on.
GILL. Well I can see that. But are you sure? I mean, do you understand
what you may be letting your self in for?
TRUDY. Not you too. I thought you would be the last person to be
unsympathetic.
GILL. I’m sorry, it’s just that …
TRUDY. Just what?
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