Spotlighting - Part 4 of 4

INTERCOM: Regarding the case itself, let’s see…we were looking for clothing preferences. Looks like that was picked up on pretty quickly, but pace and control were…amateurish. There was some rambling there and our tone could use some work.

LUCAS: It’s warm in here.

Lucas closes his eyes and his head sinks to his chest.

INTERCOM: We have to be trained before we can function as a Harvesting Operator like Operator Mitch. We’re still, uhh, a bit of a ways away from that. We also have an indication that - (Pause. Papers rustle over the intercom. Then, to themselves, humored.) You’ve gotta be shitting me. (They clear their throat.) We have an indication that we’re intoxicated, Operator Lucas. (Pause. To themselves.) Is he asleep?

Pause. A meltdown alarm blares twice. Lucas is startled awake.

LUCAS: What’s happening?

INTERCOM: There you are, Operator. Lost you there for a second. Let’s just chalk this up to a, uhh, ten out of ten. Why not? We, uhh…well, I don’t really know how to spin that one.

LUCAS: Thanks

INTERCOM: No problem.

 Another chime plays the intercom out.

LUCAS: I knew you could hear me! (Yawning.) I knew it.

Lucas begins to nod off again.

MITCH: (Offstage.) You think if they were so worried about pace, they wouldn’t yap on and on and - (Mitch enters. He holds two more coffee cups. He spots Lucas.) Wake up! (Lucas is startled awake again.) What the hell do you think you’re doing?

LUCAS: I’m awake, I’m - 

 

    Lucas yawns.

 

MITCH: I told you to cut that out.

LUCAS: I thought they’d have fired you!

MITCH: You told me to look on the bright side. That they might promote me.

LUCAS: Well, did they?

MITCH: No. (Mitch crosses to Lucas’ desk and places one of the cups there.) Grabbed us some coffees on the way back.

LUCAS: No thank you.

MITCH: Not even if I spritz it up?

    Lucas shakes his head then holds it, dizzy.

LUCAS: Uh-uh.

MITCH: What’s gotten into you? (Mitch crosses back to his own desk and sits.) You’re acting funny.

 

LUCAS: I’m tired.

 

MITCH: Well, you’ll never make the spotlighting desk if - (He lifts his flask to use it but notices it’s empty.) What the -? Did you drink all of this?

LUCAS: Hm?

MITCH: You drank my booze!

LUCAS: Say it a little louder. They can hear us, you know?

MITCH: No, they can’t. Were you just dicking around with the machine again?

LUCAS: No, no, I did a whole session this time.

MITCH: No, you didn’t.

LUCAS: Swear to god. A whole session by myself. 

MITCH: You’re not even trained, did you even pull up the right -? (He lifts the top paper from his “Out” box and looks at the big “X”, disgusted.) What is this now?

LUCAS: The dossier.

MITCH: For Christ’s sake, it’s called a profile. You’d know that if you were actually trained.

LUCAS: Someone has to keep the pace up around here. 

MITCH: Oh, really?

LUCAS: Got a ten out of ten!

MITCH: (Scoffing.) All the shooters get ten out of ten.

LUCAS: (Defensive.) That’s not true.

MITCH: Of course it is. How else would you get a perfect score when you’re drunk? I always got perfect scores when I was on that desk. It’s just to make you feel good so you stay.

LUCAS: Maybe I’m a natural.

    The intercom chime plays. 

INTERCOM: Operator Mitch, we tracked that you, uhh, should have arrived back at your station and, uhh, it’s been a few minutes now and work has not resumed. We’re going to want to start things back up. Unless we’d like to come back up to the third floor?

MITCH: (To the ceiling, pointing at Lucas.) He’s the one that -!

Another chime plays the intercom out. Mitch sits, defeated. He takes the next sheet and begins reading over it. The two sip their coffee, grimacing at it. 

LUCAS: Those papers aren’t that hard to read once you know what you’re looking for. That’s how I got the last one up, I kinda just studied it a bit.

MITCH: (Disinterested.) Mhm.

LUCAS: I got the name, age, address, number of sessions. They should format it differently, I think. Might make it easier to read, faster to input, you know. Who do I tell my ideas to?

MITCH: You don’t. (Mitch manipulates the console. The overhead lights dim. The machine hums to life. The backlights form a silhouette. Mitch clears his throat.) Good evening. (Pause.) Good evening?

    Pause. The babbling and cooing of a baby is heard.

LUCAS: What the hell? (Mitch sighs in frustration and shoots Lucas the signal. Lucas hits the button. The silhouette disappears when the backlights fade. The overhead lights come up.) What was that?

MITCH: Someone put the R.E.M on their kid.

LUCAS: A baby?

MITCH: Puts ‘em right to sleep. Why not?

Mitch makes a note on the sheet, rips it off, and places it in his “Out” box.

LUCAS: Alright, alright, c’mon then. Next customer, pick up the pace!

MITCH: They’re called “users”, for Christ’s sake!

Mitch looks at the next paper and begins manipulating his console. Lucas picks up the manual and struggles to read it while drunk. The lights begin to dim, the machine hums to life, the backlights adjust. Pause.

LUCAS: (Exaggerated revelation.) Oh! R.E.M. like R.E.M sleep. Now I get it! Did you know that?

MITCH: Yes. (The backlights form the next silhouette. Lucas discards the manual back to his desk. Mitch angles the mic towards himself and clears his throat.) Good evening.

SILHOUETTE 5: Good evening.

MITCH: How are we tonight?

SILHOUETTE 5: Fine.

MITCH: We’re fine.

SILHOUETTE 5: Yes.

MITCH: Right…we’re fine, but we’re also alone right now, aren’t we?

SILHOUETTE 5: Alone. Yes.

MITCH: Alone in bed. No partner, is that correct?

SILHOUETTE 5: Still no partner. Just like the last time we were asked.

    Mitch covers the mic, thinking on how to proceed.

LUCAS: This one’s a smartass. 

MITCH: Shh. Let me think.

LUCAS: Pace, man. 

    Mitch uncovers the mic.

MITCH: When was the last time we had a partner?

SILHOUETTE 5: We don’t know?

MITCH: Remind us.

SILHOUETTE 5: High school.

MITCH: Which high school?

SILHOUETTE 5: Eagle Creek High.

MITCH: What was their name?

SILHOUETTE 5: Mandy.

MITCH: Mandy. So, we’re interested in women?

SILHOUETTE 5: No.

MITCH: Men?

SILHOUETTE 5: No.

LUCAS: (Too loud.) Why’d you date Mindy, then?

Mitch covers the mic.

MITCH: Quiet! Christ Al-

SILHOUETTE 5: We dated Mandy because her friends told us that she 

liked us. We thought we had to. We broke up after a few months.

 

   Mitch uncovers the mic.

MITCH: And we haven’t gotten over it?

SILHOUETTE 5: We’re over it.

MITCH: Alright, what about recently? Any dates at all?

SILHOUETTE 5: No.

MITCH: Why not?

SILHOUETTE 5: No one interests us.

MITCH: We don’t like people?

SILHOUETTE 5: We don’t mind people. We just don’t want to be with people.

    Mitch covers the mic, marking his paper.

MITCH: That’s…something. It’s definitely…something.

LUCAS: Ask them if they like redheads!

MITCH: Drink your coffee. (Lucas does so and grimaces. Mitch uncovers the mic.) Are we lonely?

SILHOUETTE 5: Lonely?

MITCH: We wake up, no one next to us, we go to work, no texts throughout the day, we come home, no one’s there, we go out, there’s no one to pay for. Do we feel lonely?

SILHOUETTE 5: Yes.

MITCH: Ah! Alright, then. So, if we don’t want to be lonely anymore, we should find someone, correct?

SILHOUETTE 5: We don’t mind being lonely. 

MITCH: But let’s say we wake up one day, maybe tomorrow, and we do mind. Who would we be looking for?

SILHOUETTE 5: We haven’t thought - 

MITCH: Don’t think. Just say the first thing that comes to our mind.

LUCAS: Redheads! Is it redheads?

MITCH: Would you shut the fuck up!? 

Mitch catches himself, realizing he hadn’t covered the mic. He throws a hand over it. Even Lucas looks surprised.

SILHOUETTE 5: Is there someone else there?

    Mitch slowly uncovers the mic.

MITCH: No one else. Just us.

SILHOUETTE 5: I heard - 

MITCH: We didn’t hear anything. It’s just us talking.

SILHOUETTE 5: You and me?

MITCH: No. Us.

SILHOUETTE 5: Right. Us. You and me.

    Mitch covers the mic.

MITCH: Shit. (To Lucas.) What the hell are you doing?

LUCAS: I’m helping! You’re floundering out here.

MITCH: I’m trying to get good info and you keep throwing me off. 

LUCAS: Don’t blame me just ‘cause this one’s stumping you. I’m a ten out of ten.

    Mitch uncovers the mic. 

MITCH: We said we don’t mind other people, right?

SILHOUETTE 5: Other people. Mind. No, not much. People are fine.

MITCH: Okay, what do we like about other people?

SILHOUETTE 5: Other people. Like in other people…we like a good sense of humor. Someone who is quiet, but can make and take a joke. Someone who likes to read. Someone who is a morning person. Someone who is willing to try something new. Someone who’s willing to go out of their way to make someone else feel good, but won’t let people steamroll them. Someone. Anyone, really, who’s like that. We like that.

Mitch takes all this in and nods, making small notes.

LUCAS: I like redheads.

    Mitch covers the mic.

SILHOUETTE 5: (Out of trance.) Who is that?

Lucas snickers to himself, drunk, but not malicious. Mitch uncovers the mic briefly to rip the paper off the ream and place it in his “Out” box. He covers the mic again and gives Lucas the signal. 

LUCAS: What?

MITCH: Hit the button. We’re done with this one.

LUCAS: What were you even trying to get?

SILHOUETTE 5: Hello?

MITCH: Sexual preference, romantic interests, anything therein.

LUCAS: But - 

MITCH: But nothing. I’m calling it. (He signals.) Hit the button.

LUCAS: You didn’t get anything! 

MITCH: I got plenty. It’s all usable, you idiot. 

LUCAS: I feel like I could have gotten more.

    Pause. Mitch stares at Lucas.

 

SILHOUETTE 5: Who’s there?

 

LUCAS: (To Mitch.) What?

 

    Mitch uncovers the mic and angles it towards Lucas.

MITCH: (To the mic.) It’s no one.

LUCAS: No one, my ass!

SILHOUETTE 5: Is this coming from…my machine? The headset?

MITCH: We don’t know what we’re talking about.

LUCAS: It’s the headset, yeah. (Mitch waves to Lucas to get his attention. Once he has it, he gestures to the mic. Lucas begins speaking to it.) Hi!

SILHOUETTE 5: What is this?

LUCAS: Oh, it’s easy. We need to know your sexual stuff. Sorry, our sexual stuff.

SILHOUETTE 5: What?

LUCAS: Just, um…what do you jerk off to?

SILHOUETTE 5: How do I turn this thing off? Let me the hell out!

LUCAS: Not until you tell us what turns you on! (Brief pause. Then, to Mitch.) Aren’t you going to tell me to shut up?

MITCH: No, I want to see how they’ll flip this positively for you.

LUCAS: Of course it’ll be positive. All I have to do is hit the button.

MITCH: So - (He signals.) - hit the button.

LUCAS: Right, right.

SILHOUETTE 5: Let me -!

Lucas hits the button. The backlights behind the panel turn off, the silhouette disappears, the panel becomes opaque, and the mechanical hum slows to a stop. Overhead lights rise. The intercom chime plays.

INTERCOM: Case M-C-N-0-9-0-4. Operator Mitch…Good redirect. Usually that sort of harvesting takes a few cracks, but we were able to get a lot of usable data from them during this session.  Definitely unexpected results, but precise. Interesting stuff, interesting stuff. There’s a market for all of this and we’ll, uhh, figure out what best to do with the info. Lost a little control there towards the end and, of course, we have to keep an eye on pace, but overall we’re looking at a seven out of eleven, Operator Mitch. Good work. Now, uhh…Operator Lucas. (Lucas smiles.) What happened there? We’ve been on a roll this week. Thought we were going to have to get a new button installed, you were hitting it with such, uhh, passion. But we, uhh, fumbled at the end there, didn’t we? We were given the signal twice - no, uhh - three times before we hit the button. According to the manual it should only be, uhh, once. 

LUCAS: But I hit it though!

INTERCOM: That insubordination wasn’t very becoming of a, uhh, team player and it threw off the pace by quite a bit. For that, we’re going to have to give that one a, uhh, five out of ten. We can’t ever get too comfortable now, can we? We’ve gotta stay tip top. Not sure what’s going on, Operator Lucas, but drink some coffee and shake it off. Now, it looks like we have a, uhh, slight interruption. There have been complaints coming in about headsets running longer than their set times and locking users in R.E.M. Users have been reporting being late to work, weddings, et cetera. We suspect this has something to do with the pace of the bottom floors during their shifts. Have to remember that pace. While we’re sending out patches, we’re going to be suspending sessions for about an hour. We’ll clock you guys out and let you know when to resume operations. Take the free time to grab some coffee, but don’t stay away from your stations for too long so you don’t miss our announcement to resume. Read over your manuals and, uhh, practice with roleplays if you’d like.

Another chime plays the intercom out. Luas sulks. Mitch smiles to himself, proud of his score. He sips his coffee and reads over the next sheet of paper. Pause.

LUCAS: Why do they clock us out?

MITCH: What’s that?

LUCAS: Why do they clock us out when we’re still here?

MITCH: We’re not doing anything.

LUCAS: (Sour.) It’s bullshit.

MITCH: Hey! What’s with the attitude all of a sudden?

LUCAS: You do a bad job and call it wrong and I got a bad score. It’s bullshit!

MITCH: You don’t decide when to call it, I do, and I said we were done there.

    Lucas slips into melancholy.

LUCAS: I was on a roll. Jesus, I thought this was for me. How much longer till we get back to work?

MITCH: What’d they say, about an hour?

LUCAS: Okay. I’m going to sleep this off. Don’t they have -?

MITCH: In your desk.

LUCAS: Thanks.

Lucas retrieves a headset from within his desk: essentially a hi-tech blindfold with adjustable knobs. He slips the headset over his eyes.

MITCH: Beautiful.

LUCAS: Thanks.

MITCH: I’ll come over and turn it off if they call us back in before the hour.

LUCAS: Thanks.

Lucas folds his arms on his desk and rests his head in them. He presses a button on the side of the headset and is asleep instantly. Mitch watches Lucas for a second before returning to reading his paper. His gaze returns to Lucas after a moment. He crosses to Lucas’ desk, indelicately picks up his head, and assesses the headset itself. He rests Lucas’ head back on the desk and crosses back to his own desk. He begins manipulating his console. The overhead lights dim and the machine hums to life. The lights behind the panel quickly focus to form a silhouette. Mitch clears his throat and angles the mic towards himself.

MITCH: Good evening.

Lucas, in V.O., matches the trancelike quality of the other silhouettes.

LUCAS: (V.O.) Good evening. We’re tired.

MITCH: We sure are. Long week?

LUCAS: (V.O.) Long. Yes. Week. Work. New job.

MITCH: How are you liking it so far? Do we like our new job?

LUCAS: (V.O.) We don’t like work. We need work.

MITCH: Do we know what’s happening to us right now?

LUCAS: (V.O.) No.

MITCH: Do we have dreams like this at all?

LUCAS: (V.O.) Every night.

MITCH: We forget most of the dreams we have overnight.

LUCAS: (V.O.) Sure.

MITCH: Do us a favor?

LUCAS: (V.O.) Favor? Sure. Whatever.

MITCH: Raise our right hand.

LUCAS: (V.O.) Why?

MITCH: Just testing something.

LUCAS: (V.O.) Test. Right hand. Raise. Okay.

Lucas, still with his head down and fully asleep, raises his right hand as high as it will go. Mitch is startled.

MITCH: Now our left. (Lucas raises his left hand.) Jesus Christ. Who’s telling you to do this?

LUCAS: (V.O.) I am.

    Small pause.

MITCH: Tap on our head with our right hand. (Lucas does so.) Stop. (He stops.) Sit up straight and put your arms down. (He does so.) Pinch our nose closed. (He does so and begins breathing through his mouth.) Close our mouth.

He does so. Mitch watches intently. Lucas’ body begins to heave. 

LUCAS: (V.O.) What’s happening? We don’t like this dream.