FAST DATES, SLOW DISASTERS
A Comedy
By Benjamin Gavarre
FAST DATES, SLOW DISASTERS. © 2026 by BENJAMIN GAVARRE is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International
bengavarre@gmail.com
Fast Dates, Slow Disasters is a frantic, meta-theatrical comedy about a speed-dating rehearsal gone off the rails. Guided by an eccentric director, a group of neurotic singles quickly abandon their polite, everyday facades to reveal their true, absurd secrets in a chaotic search for love and authenticity.
CHARACTERS
- JULIAN: The director and dating coach. Passionate, intense, constantly interrupts.
- ELENA: The "perfect" corporate executive, or so she says. Desperate for a second chance at love. A total gossip... Armed with giant binoculars.
- MATTHEW: The modern stud by obligation. Chronically distracted, trapped in his own head dreaming of gears and engines. Dies for Ferrari and Red Bull.
- BEATRICE: The free, defiant woman. Mature, unapologetic, and highly mysterious about what she does with her disposable income.
- RODOLFO: A lost cause. An anachronistic Don Juan. He’s 30 years old but acts like he’s 50. Visibly nervous around Julian’s physical charms.
- LOUIE: The utility actor and production assistant. Plays all the extras, a slave to the director's whims. Sweet-hearted and easily smitten.
CHORUS STRUCTURE
Whenever dates crash and burn or tension spikes, the actors waiting in the shadows divide into two choreographic factions:
- WOMEN'S CHORUS (Stirring the pot): They expose the glaring red flags.
- MEN'S SEMI-CHORUS (Take it down a notch): They try to defend the indefensible or change the subject entirely.
SCENE 1: THE STARTING GUN
(The stage is dimly lit. There are four small individual tables with two chairs each, scattered across the space. Each table has an unlit overhead spotlight. JULIAN stands downstage center, a whistle around his neck and a notepad in hand.)
JULIAN: Stop! Stop everything! Welcome to rehearsal. Forget romance: this is Russian roulette. Love is a fast-paced farce where destiny always has a dirty trick up its sleeve, a skeleton in the closet, an illusion that refuses to die even when it smacks us in the face with a brick... (Clears throat) Ahem... Team: embrace the neurosis, and if the impulse takes over, break character and we’ll workshop it. Speed dating for desperate humans! Whistle, lights, and Louie, get ready: let the disaster begin! Ahem, you know what I mean.
(He blows the whistle forcefully.)
SCENE 2: DATE 1 – THE HORSE MISUNDERSTANDING
(ELENA and MATTHEW sit at Table 1. Elena is dressed to look like the ultimate corporate girlboss. Matthew flashes an artificial, studly smile, though his eyes are a bit glazed over.)
MATTHEW: (In a deep voice, staring intently at her) I feel a connection. A wild energy. As if fate had dropped us right into the exact same meadow.
ELENA: (Charmed) Oh, Matthew! That’s so poetic. I feel exactly what you’re talking about.
MATTHEW: I just can't stop thinking about them. The horses.
ELENA: The horses? How delightful! I can just picture you riding free, the wind in your face, a lone rider taming nature...
MATTHEW: I’m talking about horsepower. The V6 Hybrid engine... Formula One! (His eyes roll back in ecstasy) Ferrari... Ferrari drives me absolutely crazy.
ELENA: (Blinking, completely derailed) Ferrari? Are you on that damn Formula One bandwagon too? It’s our first date, for God's sake!
MATTHEW: But if they don't configure the downforce properly, the horses don't perform! (Out of nowhere, he starts humming rhythmically) "Here I go again on my oooown! Goin' down the only road I've ever knooown!"... Sorry, that song's been stuck in my head all morning. By the way, did you see how badly McLaren choked on the last circuit? Ferrari, my love forever... I'm a superfan!
ELENA: (With a look that says 'I am so done with this') Ferrari? McLaren... let me guess, you love Verstappen.
MATTHEW: Verstappen?!... Of course! RED BULL is a phenomenon! Wait, are you into it too!? Oh wow, look at that, a point of connection.
ELENA: (Talking to herself now, ignoring Matthew. Past the point of no return) Just like my last husband... Why are they all manufactured this way? Why!
(Elena, furious, unzips her purse in an exaggerated motion, pulls out a pair of gigantic binoculars, plants them on her face, completely ignores Matthew, and pivots in her chair to spy on Table 2.)
SCENE 3: ESPIONAGE AND THE DIRECTOR'S BACKSIDE
(At Table 2 are RODOLFO and BEATRICE. Rodolfo is incredibly rigid, dressed like an elderly gentleman. Beatrice yawns.)
RODOLFO: Courtship simply isn't what it used to be, Miss Beatrice. I... I am a firm believer in good, old-fashioned manners.
BEATRICE: (Every inch a lady, but slightly condescending) You are a good man. It is quite obvious you are very decent and received a very solid, traditional upbringing.
(Julian sneaks up behind Table 2 to physically correct Rodolfo's stiff posture. He bends over exaggeratedly, sticking his backside directly out toward the audience.)
ELENA: (Looking through the binoculars, bursting into laughter) No way! You have to see this! Prime Hollywood gossip right here!
RODOLFO: (Trying to keep speaking formally, but his eyes are glued to Julian’s pants. He stammers) Because good bottoms, I mean... good... good manners... Good lord, what good manners... Yes, good manners require one to observe... such a breathtaking panorama... At least the size of a linebacker's... I can't take it!
ELENA: (Shouting from her table) Oh, come on, Rodolfo! Stop staring at the Director's ass! Ha!
RODOLFO: (Sweating cold, breaking character) You cross the line, Elena! I was just focused on my scene! You’re such a busybody! And besides, it's Julian's fault, he put it right in my face! Three inches away!
BEATRICE: (Laughing) Oh, Rodolfo, I have to agree with you, credit where credit is due, the Director’s got it going on... I’d take a look too!
RODOLFO: Be professional, guys... Especially you... I thought you were a respectable lady.
SCENE 4: JULIAN'S META-THEATRICAL INTERRUPTION
(Julian stands up abruptly and delivers a deafening clap.)
JULIAN: Professionalism, please!... That was way over the line! CUT! (The actors relax) Elena, good choice with the binoculars, good. But you need to act more shocked, more indignant, as if the director were your boyfriend and another man was stealing him away. Louie! Get in here, Louie!
(LOUIE shuffles in dragging his feet, wearing a ratty, vintage striped shirt, looking like a sad little sailor.)
LOUIE: What do you need me to do...
JULIAN: Take Elena's binoculars. Act like you're spying on Rodolfo checking out my glutes. I would do it, but I can't be both the judge and the victim!
LOUIE: (Reluctantly takes the binoculars, looks at Rodolfo with zero emotion) Oh, look. Rodolfo is looking at the Director's glutes. How scandalous. Yikes... Like that? Or more shocked?
JULIAN: Terrible! As an actor, you're a disaster! Move, I'll just do it myself! (He snatches the binoculars, drops to his knees on the floor in melodramatic despair) What is happening to this world! There are no morals left! Yes, I know my pants fit incredibly well! But do you have to be so blatantly obvious?... A little respect for my enviable physique, please! (Everyone claps for him, some genuinely, others ironically; Rodolfo even cheers "Bravo!") Enough, come on, let's move on to the next beat. Rotate!
(He blows the whistle to signal the transition.)
SCENE 5: DATE 2 – THE POET AND THE MECHANIC
(The whistle blares. Rodolfo moves to Table 3 with Elena. Matthew moves to Table 2 with Beatrice. The spotlight hits Table 3 first.)
RODOLFO: (Trying to recover his dignity) Miss Elena, to forget the previous... outbursts... allow me to speak to you from the soul. I know some sublime verses: "I was a child and she was a child, in this kingdom by the sea... But we loved with a love that was more than love..."
ELENA: (Looking at him with sheer disdain) Did you rip that off a clearance-rack Hallmark card?
RODOLFO: No! It is the crowning achievement of a tragic, tortured soul. Edgar Allan Poe.
ELENA: "Annabel Lee", my guy. And reciting verses from a dead guy obsessed with corpses on a first date isn't romantic, it's creepy. You are the stalest, most boring, weirdest thirty-year-old I’ve met all week. What are you, a closeted pansy poet?
RODOLFO: (Breaking character) Do not use offensive slurs, Elena. I prefer LGBTQ+ and literary... Mr. Director!
ELENA: Ugh, sorry, that was my character, not me, you know I'm a super ally... (Snarky) LGBTQ+? So modern... haha. I'm still stuck on "fruity" and "flamer"!
RODOLFO: Mr. Director!
(The overhead light on Table 3 dims to half-power and Table 2 fully illuminates: Matthew and Beatrice.)
MATTHEW: (Staring intently at Beatrice’s hands, completely lost in thought) Your hands are fascinating, Beatrice. They’re small, strong... sensual. They have the firmness of someone who knows how to adjust a suspension system without hesitating.
BEATRICE: (Smiling mischievously, fanning herself) Oh, really, Matthew? How observant. Not just anyone notices that I spend my weekends covered in mud at a motocross track, or staying up till dawn watching the Monaco Grand Prix qualifiers.
MATTHEW: (Fascinated, leaning in closer, completely dropping the artificial stud persona) I can't believe it! I'm in ecstasy... Finally, a woman who understands RPMs! I only pretend to be the modern heartthrob because Julian forces me to, but... I am crazy about your world of combustion, tires pushed to the absolute limit, and the smell of melting asphalt. Beatrice, you are pure adrenaline at two hundred miles an hour in a world that walks around with the parking brake on!
BEATRICE: (Seductive, she leans toward him suddenly, snapping her fan shut with a sharp crack) Then you better buckle up, Matthew... because I don't know how to use the brakes.
JULIAN: (Interrupting from the shadows, thrilled) Yes! Pure fire! You can literally see the sexual tension! Hold that energy for the chorus!
SCENE 6: THE GAME OF THE CHORUS AND SEMI-CHORUS
(A break in reality. The overhead table lights snap off. A cold, harsh wash of light hits the stage. The actors quickly group up on the wings, striking exaggerated, dramatic poses.)
WOMEN'S CHORUS (ELENA, BEATRICE): (Stepping forward, pointing directly at the audience) Red alert! Red Flag! All bark and no bite, better off alone than in bad company!
MEN'S SEMI-CHORUS (MATTHEW, LOUIE, RODOLFO): (Taking a step forward) Red alert! Red flag! Too much demand for such little supply! Better off alone than in bad company!
WOMEN'S CHORUS (ELENA, BEATRICE): Air out the dirty laundry, drag the skeletons out of the closet!
MEN'S SEMI-CHORUS (MATTHEW, LOUIE, RODOLFO): Hang your miseries out to dry, they reek of sin and everybody knows it!
ELENA: (Breaking formation viciously, shoving Beatrice out of the group) Let Beatrice speak! She plays the respectable lady, but Matthew just uncovered her taste for melting asphalt and underground racing. I know all about her dirty little secrets!
BEATRICE: (Thrown off by the betrayal, defending herself) At least I have a life, Elena. I don't use binoculars like a professional neighborhood gossip, memorizing everybody's secrets in the apartment building. Get a boyfriend, get a dog, and let us live!
ELENA: (Offended) Me, a gossip? I just repeat what the walls are screaming! Last Saturday you were seen holding hands with the pizza delivery boy... And rumor has it you handed him a massive wad of cash!
(Everyone on stage gasps in exaggerated shock and crowds in like nosy neighbors.)
MATTHEW: (Stepping right up to the front, defending Beatrice with unbridled energy) Wait just a minute! If it was the kid on the red motorcycle, that engine has a modified carburetor that doubles the mileage! Beatrice was simply funding local engineering! And polyamory is aerodynamic, Elena, don't be so old-fashioned!
SCENE 7: THE GREAT SKELETON REVELATION
JULIAN: (Jumping out of his chair, ecstatic) Yes! The mechanical defense and the venomous neighborhood gossip are pure gold! Strip down your private vices! Let's hear it, Beatrice!
BEATRICE: (Zero guilt, proudly crossing her legs) Alright, are we all playing the morality police now? We live in a massive metropolis, not some puritanical little farm town. Yes, I gave him a wad of cash. And Marco, "The Delivery Guy", gave his body and soul in a fabulous night of top-tier entertainment. That's exactly why I paid him so well. And Matthew is more than welcome to join next time to check out the suspension!
MATTHEW: (Proudly, adjusting his collar) I accept the mechanical challenge!
ELENA: (Storming to the front, exasperated, her voice cracking) Oh, please, Betty! How big is your alimony check? At your age you must have an entire trust fund to pay for motorized boy-toys and pizza-slinging gigolos! (Her vulnerability slips out) And honestly, it isn’t fair! I kill myself for twelve hours a day at the corporate office, I buy ridiculously expensive lingerie, I read endless self-improvement books, and I only attract guys who want me to pay for their therapy or who recite Edgar Allan Poe! You get a stripper pizza guy and I just collect boring ex-husbands!
BEATRICE: (Softening a bit, amused) Well, Elena... the secret is taking off the parking brake. But you prefer the gossip.
ELENA: (Bristling, trying to recover her corporate executive pose, but dripping with envy) You hypocrite! The only thing "respectable lady" about you is your overpriced makeup, you tramp!
SCENE 8: RODOLFO'S LIBERATION
RODOLFO: (Slams his hand on the table and stands up, his eyes shining) Enough! You know what... Beatrice and Matthew are right! To hell with appearances, to hell with Edgar Allan Poe, and to hell with faking it!
JULIAN: (Scribbling notes, hyped) Yes! Take us to the breaking point! The awakening of the character!
RODOLFO: It's true! I try to play the Don Juan with women to fit into this society, but the truth is... men turn me on! They make me weak in the knees! And you, Julian, with those tight director pants, you've had me breathless since the table reads!
(Dramatic silence on stage. Julian freezes with his pen hovering in the air.)
JULIAN: Sublime! What a plot twist! (Adjusts his shirt, visibly flattered) Look, my body is a work of art, I am aware, but I am the director; I can't get involved, it wouldn't be prudent. We need an emergency stand-in! Louie! Tag in as the wild card of love!
LOUIE: Again? No, wait, Julian! I'm a production assistant, not Rodolfo's corkscrew.
JULIAN: Do it for the love of the craft, Louie! And you love the theater, I know it! Sit right there! (Shoves Louie into a chair) Action!
RODOLFO: (Looks at Louie, smiles a relaxed, amused smile) Hi... I like your ratty shirt. It's very... urban chic.
LOUIE: (Shy) Really? I pulled it out of the theater's dumpster... but thanks. Hey, do you like low-budget horror movies?
RODOLFO: I love them! They're my guilty pleasure! You know, you have a beautiful smile.
LOUIE: (Less shy) Really? Nobody's ever told me that...
(Louie and Rodolfo stare at each other with lovesick eyes.)
(The Chorus and Semi-Chorus group up in the background and start clapping rhythmically, celebrating the unexpected romance.)
CHORUS (Elena and Beatrice): They are dating, they're in love... They are dating.
SEMI-CHORUS (Matthew): They are dating, they are dating...
EVERYONE: They're touching each other's parts, they're kissing, they're grabbing... Their parts...
SCENE 9: THE CLIMAX OF THE ABSURD (SLAPSTICK EFFECT)
(A wildly fast choreographic sequence kicks off, driven by Julian's screaming. Disco lights flash.)
MATTHEW: (To Beatrice, crossing the stage at top speed) Beatrice, your engine needs an urgent oil change!
BEATRICE: (Dodging him with a dance step) And you need a woman made of pure fire on the track, handsome!
RODOLFO: (Chasing Louie) Louie, we aren't going to the movies, you are my world premiere!
ELENA: (Plants herself at the front of the stage, accidentally puts her giant binoculars on backward in her rush, fixes them, and points directly at the technical booth, screaming with a massive, unhinged smile) To hell with dating apps! The lighting tech is sending me smoke signals with the spotlights! And he’s got arms that can hold up high-tension cables! That's my type! I'm coming for you, handsome!
LOUIE: (Now dressed in a waiter's apron, interrupting Rodolfo, a cell phone glued to his ear) Hello? Kung-Fu Vampires at your service? (Flirting) Your check, sir! That'll be a fifty-dollar tip and a kiss from Louie!
RODOLFO: Bring on the kiss!
JULIAN: (Screaming while standing on top of a chair) More rhythm! More speed! I want more intensity! Collapse, actors, collapse!
(Frantic stage crosses. Matthew tries to dodge Beatrice. Elena screams at the tech booth, dropping her binoculars, while Rodolfo trips over the chairs. Everyone crashes in the center of the stage and collapses into a human mountain on the floor, exhausted and in ridiculous poses. Elena ends up hugging one of Matthew's legs as if it were a lamppost.)
SCENE 10: THE META-THEATRICAL BREAK
JULIAN: (Blows the whistle three times in desperation from the top of his chair) CUT! CUT! CUT!
(The chaos stops dead. The raw, white light of a midday rehearsal floods the room. The actors remain sprawled out, exhausted on the floor and over the broken tables, sweating and breathing heavily.)
JULIAN: Beautiful... truly, what a jewel of a character arc. The chaos of the metropolis personified in your neurotic bodies. It's pure art, people. The aesthetics of disaster.
ELENA: (Out of character, letting go of Matthew's leg, sitting up with difficulty, taking off a stiletto heel, and smiling with relief) Julian... the rehearsal is going amazing, really... but we are totally fried. I feel like I just ran a marathon in stilettos.
MATTHEW: (Taking off his jacket, rubbing his knee) Yeah, boss... the body can't take any more. My sternum is cramping. But we caught a really good rhythm, didn't we?
RODOLFO: (Giving Louie a friendly pat on the back while helping him up) I'd say today's work really paid off. What do you guys say we go grab some tacos and some ice-cold beers around the corner? My treat.
ELENA: (Dusting off her blazer, compassionate and laughing) If Rodolfo's buying, I'm in. But we'd better just stay here and order a pizza... I promise not to spy on your polyamorous delivery boy, Betty.
BEATRICE: (Laughing, throwing an arm around Elena's shoulder) Oh, Elenita, if you want I can give you Marco's number, he has a mechanic friend you would absolutely love. Let's go out, we need air! Tacos sounds perfect.
RODOLFO: And beers!
LOUIE: Lots of beers!
JULIAN: (Fascinated, stepping down from his chair and putting his notebook away) Accepted! We've fully earned this break. You guys head out, I'll catch up in two minutes.
(The actors get up laughing, wrapping their arms around each other's shoulders, picking up a couple of knocked-over chairs, and making their way toward the dressing rooms. Elena walks arm in arm with Beatrice, laughing. Julian is left alone in the center. He walks downstage toward the proscenium, looks directly at the audience with a complicit, reflective smile.)
JULIAN: Mental note for opening night... Romantic failure almost always comes with a consolation prize.
(Julian winks at the audience.)
FAST BLACKOUT
END OF PLAY
FAST DATES, SLOW DISASTERS. © 2026 by BENJAMIN GAVARRE is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International
