WAITING ROOM by Benjamín Gavarre

 

WAITING ROOM

Text, and final análisis by Rodrigo Parra

Playwriter 

Benjamín Gavarre

To the memory of Raúl, Sergio, Héctor, and Luis Pablo.

(The waiting room of an office is seen: a discreet desk, two or three uncomfortable armchairs, and a small table in the center. Impersonal paintings hang on the walls: still lifes. In a corner, on the floor, a floral arrangement: red roses. To the left, the main door; in the background, the office door.)

(In the armchairs are: Sofía (29 years old: engrossed), Sara (35 years old: asleep), Francisco (28 years old: flipping through magazines), Margo (65 years old: absorbed), and Arturo (38 years old: looking at the palm of his hand). At the desk is a stern and efficient receptionist: age indefinite.)

(After a few seconds, an impeccably dressed man in a suit arrives: he is The Executive. Everyone looks at him uneasily. The man approaches the receptionist and whispers something to her. They point to Arturo, who stands up and hands them a file. The Executive reviews and signs the document; the receptionist stamps it and gives it back to The Executive, who, with a grave air, enters his office. Arturo returns to sit near Sofía.)

ARTURO: So serious, Sofía?

SOFÍA: You see.

ARTURO: There’s Sara. Looks like she hasn't slept. There’s good old Francisco, always tormented.

SOFÍA: He's not doing well.

ARTURO: Margo... Did she buy the roses?

SOFÍA: Probably.

ARTURO: I wasn't wrong.

(Arturo stands up, approaches the receptionist and whispers something to her; she nods. He then returns to his seat, picks up a small briefcase and hugs it, anxious.)

SOFÍA: Is it time?

ARTURO: Not yet; it's until they call us.

SOFÍA: So many procedures.

ARTURO: Yes. Each has its date and time. Some are not in a hurry; most don’t care or don’t even think about it. (Quietly.) I cheated.

SOFÍA: I figured.

ARTURO: And why not? I wanted to.

SOFÍA: Yes.

ARTURO: But I’m tired now; I want to meet with Sergio. I was hoping for some extraordinary event, some unusual adventure, but... You should never force things.

SOFÍA: I dreamed of a colossal beast, a bull. It was breathing furiously next to me, but it didn't charge me. Someone, a man, told me: Don't look at it directly, do it by lowering your gaze, with a gray gaze, downwards. The bull was next to me and I barely caressed it, as if ignoring it. I liked the bull, it was my friend.

FRANCISCO: (To Arturo.) I’d like a coffee, very strong.

ARTURO: (Referring to the receptionist.) Why don't you ask her?

FRANCISCO: She looks like she has a bad temper.

ARTURO: Don't believe it. Ask her.

FRANCISCO: (To the receptionist.) Can I have coffee?

(The Receptionist nods with an almost imperceptible gesture. Francisco goes to a small table where there is a coffee maker. He pours himself a coffee and drinks it standing, in small sips.)

ARTURO: (To Sofía.) Francisco still acts like a teenager.

SOFÍA: And he will continue to, but it works for him.

ARTURO: Do you still love him?

SOFÍA: What! Not at all. I never...

ARTURO: You liked him.

SOFÍA: That’s another thing, but to love him… I hate his seduction methods: always so defenseless, like a hungry puppy.

FRANCISCO: (From afar.) I’m the man of your dreams, you said so.

SOFÍA: Never!

FRANCISCO: You said I was an unbeatable lover, in your dreams.

ARTURO: Is that true?

SOFÍA: No! (To Arturo.) How can he be so vain! I’m the only one who doesn’t... I’m not going to say anything!

FRANCISCO: (Approaches Sofía and, still drinking his coffee, says...) I’d like to unbutton your blouse with my teeth, bite your breasts, lick your nipples. I want to open your legs, put my head between your thighs, then...

SOFÍA: Enough! Get out of here. (Francisco returns to his seat, smiling, still taking small sips of coffee.) It’s inconceivable. He's so vain he’d sleep with me just because I’m rejecting him now.

ARTURO: You said he’s not doing well?

SOFÍA: I don’t care about him.

ARTURO: Are you doing badly, Francisco?

FRANCISCO: Bad? I've been doing terribly, in several aspects, but the worst is money. I need to find a stable job. I’ve been eating rice and only rice. I sold some Coca-Cola bottle caps to buy cheese, tortillas, cigarettes, and that’s it. I’ve eaten that for three days. Thank God today I got paid 800 pesos for a week of hard, very hard work.

SOFÍA: Didn't I tell you? He acts like a stray puppy. Francisquito, don’t you want me to lend you five hundred pesos?

FRANCISCO: Only five hundred?

SOFÍA: You're disgusting.

ARTURO: (Without looking directly at anyone.) And aren’t you seeing anyone now?

SOFÍA: Me?

ARTURO: No, yes, also... excuse me, I was asking Francisco.

SOFÍA: Him? His conquests last an hour... How long did the last one last?

FRANCISCO: Are you talking to me?

SOFÍA: Two hours?

FRANCISCO: A bit longer... I rescued her from an ecstasy trip. Twenty-five years old, with a Golf car, with money: owner of two houses and more or less willing. We went out for four days, we had lunch, saw theater, had dinner, ate... We screwed really well once; some other times we just screwed. The last day we saw each other, suddenly, after seeing a play in Coyoacán, at her house, I tried to kiss her.

SOFÍA: But you haven't said her name.

FRANCISCO: You want names and everything?

SOFÍA: Well, yes.

FRANCISCO: Martha.

SOFÍA: No, seriously.

FRANCISCO: That was her name, what do you want. I was really stoned. She acted so evasive... I didn't know what was wrong with her. She told me she felt like a prostitute, that she didn't believe in relationships, that she always ended up feeling cold and distant, that she didn't want to continue.

(Silence. Max enters, 39 years old, tall and thin. He is very elegant. He sits in an armchair, apart from everyone. He opens a briefcase, takes out some papers and quickly reviews them, annoyed. He gets up and goes to the receptionist. She, very professional, receives the documents and gives him a questionnaire. Max returns to his seat to fill it out.)

MAX: (Speaks while answering the questionnaire, looking at Sofía and Arturo occasionally.) I saw a survey on TV about how certain groups thought their lives were going. There were different options between much better and much worse. I am in the small population, 3%, of those who are doing much worse. Those who are doing much better are also 3%. The extremes always encompass few.

SOFÍA: My life is more or less okay, what percentage would I be in?

ARTURO: I’ve never believed in statistics.

MAX: My problem is communication. Not knowing how to deal with others, not being interested in others. My problem is distrusting others, wanting to be alone because others scare me too much. I'm always thinking they're going to hurt me and that's why I push away any possibility of establishing real bonds. What a damn neurosis.

SOFÍA: Poor Max, I’ve always liked him, but he’s so aggressive, so inaccessible.

ARTURO: I think he’s a great guy, and I’m not saying it because he’s present, I’d say the same regardless. I’ve had the most fun times I can remember with him.

FRANCISCO: At first, when I met him, he scared me. It seemed like he was going to strike me down with that gaze he has. Do you remember Max, when the three of us went on vacation to the beach?

(Max looks at Francisco and responds with a grunt.)

SOFÍA: Which three?

FRANCISCO: Well, who: Me, Arturo, and Max.

SOFÍA: The donkey first.

FRANCISCO: We spent one of the most inauspicious Christmases I can remember.

SOFÍA: Inauspicious! What a word!

FRANCISCO: What do you want me to say? Horrendous, terrifying, screwed up?... Do you remember Max? In Morelia, it was about two in the morning and the only thing we had for dinner was the last hot dog from the last hot dog stand in the city center. One hot dog for three, it was delicious.

SOFÍA: Mhh.

FRANCISCO: Then, at the hotel, we gorged ourselves on the Christmas cake Arturo’s mom had baked... A family-size Coke and half a bottle of ninety-six proof alcohol. These scoundrels didn't let me sleep all night.

SOFÍA: Why?

FRANCISCO: Why do you think?

ARTURO: (With double meaning.) We were "talking" all night.

SOFÍA: Ahh.

MAX: Damned forms, do you think I'm going to remember my naturalization number? What is that?

ARTURO: It's only for foreigners, Max. But yes, they ask such things!

MAX: Sometimes I stare into the void and nothing happens. Nothing. I just get anxious that nothing is happening and that I'm sure nothing will happen. I feel like ending everything, but it's just a vague idea. I wouldn't dare to commit suicide. The thing is, I also don't dare to do anything to change my circumstances. How seriously I take myself, but the matter is serious.

(Silence. The office door opens and The Executive appears with a document in his hand.)

THE EXECUTIVE: I am going to read the names of the people who are on the relative count. I must clarify that the fact that any of you are on this list does not necessarily mean that you will be admitted; it only indicates that you have met the corresponding requirements and that your file is being reviewed. At the end of the day, individuals who have already completed category BF 0650 will be called for final admission. For now... Mr. Arturo Morales Olguín.

ARTURO: Here.

THE EXECUTIVE: Mr. Maximiliano Santos García Oleguibel.

MAX: Olaguivel.

THE EXECUTIVE: Mr. Joaquín Arizmendi Loaeza.

(No one answers.)

THE EXECUTIVE: Not here?... Mrs. Consuelo Gutiérrez González?... (No one answers.) No?... Mrs. Margarita García Olaguibel Miranda.

(Margo, who until now had remained totally absorbed, responds with a dry gesture, only to immediately resume the same attitude.)

THE EXECUTIVE: Mr. Jorge Murcio Montoya? (No one answers.) Miss Sofía Trueba Alcántara.

SOFÍA: Present, sir.

THE EXECUTIVE: Mr. Francisco Toledano Flores.

FRANCISCO: Here.

THE EXECUTIVE: And finally... Miss María Sara Rendón Batalla...

SOFÍA: Isn’t it Sara?

THE EXECUTIVE: Is she here?

SOFÍA: Sara, wake up!

SARA: What?... Already?

THE EXECUTIVE: María Sara Rendón Batalla?

SARA: (Drowsily.) Yes, me...

THE EXECUTIVE: It seems there have been some errors in your BF-005, could you cross-reference the data with Leonor?

SARA: Leonor?

THE EXECUTIVE: The receptionist.

SARA: Yes, of course, sir.

THE EXECUTIVE: (To the receptionist.) Take care of it.

(The Executive returns to his office. Sara searches in a worn artisan wool bag. She takes out some documents and tries to organize them.)

SOFÍA: And that was all?

ARTURO: You wanted more? We’re already on the list.

SOFÍA: But some aren’t even here.

ARTURO: It always happens.

SOFÍA: Can you imagine? What if they got the wrong person?

FRANCISCO: They investigate thoroughly.

SOFÍA: I don’t know, maybe they don’t have everything planned. For example, why do they still use typewriters, don’t they know the world has evolved?

ARTURO: Really?

SOFÍA: And this place... so sordid! It's as if the streets and people were very far away.

FRANCISCO: Hey, Sara, I’ve always wanted a bag like yours, but I haven’t found one yet.

ARTURO: Don't bother her; you see she's crossing herself with the paperwork and you still...

SOFÍA: I've already said it: Francisco is an animal. Can we help you, Sara?

SARA: No, I’m almost done... (To the receptionist.) Does the BF-005 need the orange stamp with the received signature?

(The Receptionist simply nods.)

FRANCISCO: No, the real torment is the BF-001, you have to get even your grandparents’ marriage certificate, and then, four postcard-sized photos, three mignon photos, six child-sized photos... Ugh...

SOFÍA: I bet those weren't hard for you, the child-sized ones.

FRANCISCO: You'd think so, but they’re very expensive.

SARA: There... (She stands up with a sea of papers, takes out a sheet and hands it to the receptionist.) I had kept the original. All good?

(The Receptionist nods. Sara waits a few seconds for some more comment, but the receptionist, without looking at her, gets up with the document and enters The Executive's office.)

ARTURO: Sara: you’re hopeless.

SARA: It’s just that these bastards...

ARTURO: Sarita!

SARA: They are, they’re bastards. They don’t care about my life, they don’t care if I have to take care of my son, they don’t care if I have to work like a slave or if I have to spend sleepless nights in the hospital...

ARTURO: The hospital?... Why, what happened?

SARA: I’m an idiot... (Pause.) We didn’t want you to know.

ARTURO: What?

SARA: It’s Marco... He’s hospitalized.

(PAUSE.)

ARTURO: Dammit.

(PAUSE.)

SARA: For three weeks now.

ARTURO: Very serious?

SARA: Delicate.

ARTURO: I’d like to see him.

SARA: You know how it is: the family takes charge first. It's a bit like being born again. They let me take care of him because... I don’t know, Marco’s family always had the idea that I had been his girlfriend or something.

FRANCISCO: Well, you were one of the few women in his life.

SOFÍA: Francisco, you have no shame.

SARA: I had always thought that the most beautiful thing about a relationship was romance. Now, even though I can name Marco as the man of my life, I think the most important thing for me were these last few years, in which I can only say that we were friends... (To Arturo.) He knows you loved him very much.

ARTURO: I hope so.

(Long pause. Sara closes her eyes.)

MAX: I dreamed of a luminous house with a huge pool, truly enormous. The diving board was very high; there was also a slide. A diver suspended in the heights, seemed ready, but anyone would have thought he was afraid of falling out of the pit; he needed to calculate everything very well before entering the water. When I woke up I was certain that "taking the plunge" meant dying. The diving pit was a grave.

ARTURO: We’re like at war or like we’re very, very old. We’re full of death and we don’t know what to do with it.

FRANCISCO: I drink. I drink and I’ve drunk every single day. And it doesn’t help me at all, even though at least I get numb and don’t think. I find myself not in a dead end but in something worse, an alley without the concept of an exit. What do you think, Arturo, at the last party I drank like I hadn't in a long time. On the couch, when I was very drunk, I don't know if I heard them talking about me or if they really were. Someone said to another: "It's a shame to see him like this." I think I imagined it, but it's very sad that they pity me.

ARTURO: Sara told me she saw you waiting for the bus on Insurgentes, that she waved at you and you didn’t turn around. Right, Sara?

SOFÍA: She's asleep. The one I saw waiting at a stop was Rubén, remember Rubén? The one who styled his hair with lemon and got straight A’s, always so fawning and boastful.

FRANCISCO: Fawning!... And you criticize me for my fancy words. Fawning!

SOFÍA: (Unperturbed.) I thought: so it didn't help good old Rubén to get all those A's. How formal he is even waiting for the bus. He looked distraught, on the verge of despair.

FRANCISCO: It's just that sometimes we think about things a million times before simply doing them. For example, I know it's easy to perform many small feats like... turning off the gas, before letting the water evaporate and the pot burn. I think about getting up and I see myself performing that tiny miracle of turning the gas knob and presto, the water stops boiling, however, I only think about it and of course, do you know how many pots I have turned into char?

SOFÍA: What does all that have to do with Rubén?

FRANCISCO: In what sense?

SOFÍA: Francisco, where did you learn to think?

FRANCISCO: Sofía, wouldn’t you like to marry me? I love that you spend your life scolding me.

SOFÍA: Maybe in another life.

FRANCISCO: You said it.

(The Receptionist comes out of The Executive's office with a new list.)

THE RECEPTIONIST: Mr. Marco Antonio Moncada Escárcega? Mrs. Nancy Rosedal Torres? Mauricio Parra Solís?

SOFÍA: Mauricio?, Mauricio Parra?

THE RECEPTIONIST: Do you know him?

SOFÍA: Know him? Did you say Mauricio Parra Solís?

THE RECEPTIONIST: That’s right.

SOFÍA: (To the others.) Is Mauricio’s last name Parra?

ARTURO: You should know.

SOFÍA: Well, I don’t remember. I think Parra Ceruti (To the receptionist)... No, excuse me, it’s Mauricio Parra Ceruti. It’s not him, is it?

(The Receptionist shakes her head and immediately goes back into the office.)

FRANCISCO: I insist she has a bad temper.

SOFÍA: What happened to Mauricio? I remember once I tried to go to the movies with him and it was a disaster. We were going to see a Tarkovsky film, imagine that. He arrived late and that put me in a bad mood from the start. We went to the box office and found out there were no tickets. We decided to go have a beer while we waited. I started to get annoyed from the moment he started speaking ill of everything he saw and treating me as if I were a foreigner in my own country. He told me: (Imitates an Argentine accent.) "How curious to be surrounded by pure foreigners." I replied: "My dear, the only foreigner here is you."

(Margo, who until now had been submerged in a barely visible seat, stands up, approaches the floral arrangement, and crouching, removes some roses. Then, she distributes them to the others, saying the same phrase to each one.)

MARGO: It’s useless to cultivate memories, it’s absurd.

(She says the same thing to everyone, but when she reaches Max, she remains silent for a moment and then repeats:)

MARGO: It’s useless to cultivate memories, it’s absurd.

MAX: You’ve always been so harsh.

MARGO: I’ve had to be. When your father died, not a single tear.

MAX: I’m just like you.

MARGO: You are weak. You have kept silent and that is good sometimes, but you have gone too far. Your friends are here.

MAX: I know.

FRANCISCO: Leave him alone, ma’am, he’s always been...

MAX: I’m what?

FRANCISCO: Nothing, Max. Look, I’ve been calling you almost every day and it’s always the same answer. "He doesn't want to talk to anyone right now, he feels bad." Isn't that right, ma'am?

SOFÍA: I’ve tried to call you too.

MAX: And why haven’t you come to see me? I’ve never left the house. (Pause.) I agree with my mother: memory is useless. There are so many absurd stories. I wonder what will happen to everything I’ve learned: so much reading, so much experience. I’ve given a lot, generously, I’ve been a good teacher, above all I’ve been a good friend. Now I’m tired. I know what’s coming by heart, I’ve seen it many times. This time it’s my turn. (Pause.) I’m going to turn the page, everyone else should do the same, you too, mom.

MARGO: Some of you are unhonored heroes.

MAX: It’s better that way; some tributes only shackle the spirit.

MARGO: I've never said anything, but I spend my afternoons in silence, thinking about all of you. My life will continue amidst small mists, exact schedules, and daily visits. I won't count the hours, but nothing will be the same.

MAX: We need to turn the page, mother.

MARGO: Let's turn the page, love. (Returns to her armchair.)

(SILENCE)

FRANCISCO: When Esteban died there were a lot of candles, remember?... I had been with his mother for a while and then someone called me, I think it was Mónica. I passed in front of the small table with the votive candles and felt as if I was on fire but without burning, a very pleasant sensation of fire. I'm sure he said goodbye to me that way...(Pause.) I don't think memory is useless, on the contrary, I think it gives us meaning, cursed or full of light. And yet, I have no proof of the battles I've lived, no visible scars... Not even a simple sign like a letter, a photo: I break everything. It's as if many stories never happened. I don't like things, objects, trophies. I like them in other people's houses, those small figurines, those tiny chests full of stories are fine there.

ARTURO: I don't have photos of anyone either; I was always very spartan, like Francisco. Just the clothes on my back... my shoes... and that's it.

(Everyone falls silent again. Suddenly, Sofía tries to suppress a laugh but can't.)

SOFÍA: Sorry. But it’s just... I got totally wasted and said such stupid things!

FRANCISCO: At the wake?

ARTURO: Yes, we all got hammered.

SOFÍA: I told René, Susana’s boyfriend, that I loved the bulge he had under his fly.

ARTURO: How could you!

SOFÍA: What’s wrong with it? Don’t you like it?

ARTURO: Of course not.

SOFÍA: Don’t be a hypocrite.

ARTURO: Okay, fine, a little, like everyone else.

SOFÍA: Everyone?... Not Francisco.

FRANCISCO: Not me what?

SOFÍA: You don’t like René, I hope.

FRANCISCO: What can I say, Max’s mom is here.

SOFÍA: I don’t think, at this point, Doña Margo gets scared by anything.

FRANCISCO: Well, he's not a bad guy.

ARTURO: Paco, don't go casting lines, you can't handle it later. What do you mean he's not a bad guy?

FRANCISCO: That, he’s not a bad guy.

SOFÍA: You too, Brutus?

FRANCISCO: I just said he wasn't a bad guy, are you going to lynch me?

SOFÍA: But he looks like a mechanic!

FRANCISCO: Didn’t you say you liked him?

SOFÍA: Do you have something against mechanics?

ARTURO: Me?... No.

FRANCISCO: I don’t understand anything.

SOFÍA: You’re not the only one. Look, I like them but not in spirit, do I make myself clear?... I mean: the fact that I like them doesn’t mean I don’t like them.

FRANCISCO: Forget it.

ARTURO: I don’t understand anything anymore either.

(SILENCE)

SOFÍA: Last night, around three in the morning, I received a grotesque call. It was a woman’s voice, I’m almost sure. She left me a message: "Baby... make me a 'guaguis' ohh." It was disgusting. For several reasons.

MAX: I'm not surprised that those kinds of things happen precisely to you.

SOFÍA: And why precisely to me?

MAX: Don't you realize you're extremely vulgar? "And who are you with... and, didn't you like so-and-so? and didn't you sleep with what's-his-name?"... You make me sick.

SOFÍA: Ugh... Excuse me, man, I forgot you were an aristocrat.

MAX: Well, even if it bothers you.

SOFÍA: "Maximiliano García Oleguibel." Are you proud of García or... Oleguibel...

MAX: García Olaguibel, it’s a compound surname.

SOFÍA: Ohh.

SARA: Why don't you stop fighting?

ARTURO: Sara woke up.

SARA: I wasn’t... I wasn't asleep. I was thinking that yes, we are vulgar, we are cynical, unbearable, and worst of all, indifferent. We should do something with our lives.

FRANCISCO: Sara, she's always been an idealist.

SARA: And you think it’s better to sit idly by while life slips away?

FRANCISCO: You've always been an idealist and naive. You think that by joining the trendy civil society you're going to change the world. You seek chimeras, impossible heroes. You go to demonstrations thinking you're going to transform the world and you don't even know who pulls the strings or with what intention. You are naive and old-fashioned.

SARA: At least I'm not in reaction like others.

FRANCISCO: Call me reactionary, but not old-fashioned, look at yourself Sara, you look like you came out of the "Folklorito we shall overcome" catalog, let me tell you something, the Berlin Wall no longer exists, what's more, did you know that the Soviet Union disappeared?

SARA: I still think there are men, and that soon we will have a leader to follow.

FRANCISCO: Yes, Sara, I hope you find one, you need one.

SARA: I didn’t mean that... Shit, more than shit.

(Very long silence.)

(The Executive and the receptionist come out of the office, go to the desk and sign a document. They look at Arturo and then talk to each other. Finally, The Executive, very annoyed, addresses Arturo...)

THE EXECUTIVE: Mr. Arturo Morales Olguín?

ARTURO: Yes.

THE EXECUTIVE: Would you please stand up?

ARTURO: I’m fine as I am, sir.

THE EXECUTIVE: I must inform you that we have had a series of discrepancies due to an unqualifiable falsification on your part.

ARTURO: I don’t understand, sir.

THE EXECUTIVE: According to this, you should have been transferred on July 24 of last year, but, due to an alteration in your primary documentation, final admission was delayed by at least two hundred forty-three executable days. The limits you have exceeded prevent the optional extension from being granted to you. Likewise, I inform you that in the next cycle, the number of subtracted days plus a 37% surcharge will be confiscated from you. Do you have anything to say in your favor?

ARTURO: Nothing, I have nothing to say to you.

THE EXECUTIVE: Very well. Then... accompany me.

ARTURO: I'm going to say goodbye.

THE EXECUTIVE: By no means.

ARTURO: And who’s going to stop me? You?

THE EXECUTIVE: (Looks at his watch.) You have one minute.

(The Executive enters his office; the receptionist sits impassively at her desk. Arturo stands in the middle of the room with his gaze on the floor. Sofía stands up, hugs him intensely, kisses him, and caresses his hair. Francisco stands up and joins the embrace. Then, Arturo separates from them and goes to Sara, who is sobbing in the armchair; he caresses and kisses her; then he says goodbye to Margo with a kiss on the cheek. Finally, he approaches Max, extends his hand, but Max avoids his gaze.)

ARTURO: Aren’t you going to say goodbye?

MAX: No.

ARTURO: Why?

MAX: I prefer to go with you.

ARTURO: I don’t understand, you still have some days, months perhaps.

MAX: I prefer to go.

ARTURO: (To the receptionist.) Can he do that?

(The Receptionist nods with an indifferent gesture.)

(Max stands up, picks up his briefcase and says without looking at anyone:)

MAX: Goodbye everyone.

(The Executive peeks out again and looks significantly at Arturo.)

THE EXECUTIVE: It’s time.

ARTURO: (Referring to Max.) He’s coming with me.

THE EXECUTIVE: It’s his decision, all his papers are in order.

ARTURO: You see, Max: everything’s in order, how curious. I thought I had something more to do or to say, but no... Nothing to do, Max. Nothing.

(THEY HEAD INTO THE OFFICE. THE EXECUTIVE CLOSES THE DOOR.)

English Translation and Expanded Analysis of "Waiting Room"

Thank you! This is a truly insightful play. Here's the English translation of the analysis, along with a deeper dive into staging considerations, audience reception, and intergenerational perspectives on death.

Complete Analysis and Interpretation of "Waiting Room"

Benjamín Gavarre's play, "Waiting Room," initially presents a seemingly ordinary situation: a group of people waiting in a bureaucratic office. However, as the plot unfolds and the dialogues unravel, it reveals a profound exploration of existential themes, the human condition, mortality, the passage of time, regret, and the search for meaning in an environment that appears stripped of it.

1. Scenic Elements and Symbolism

The setting of the "waiting room" is crucial.

 * The Room: It's not just a physical space, but a metaphor for limbo, for transition. It's a place where life, or perhaps existence, is in a state of indefinite pause, at the mercy of an impersonal authority. The "uncomfortable armchairs" and "impersonal paintings" reinforce the sense of unease and anonymity.

 * The Red Roses: This "floral arrangement" is the only element with some vitality and color in an environment described as "sordid" and "impersonal." They are bought by Margo, the oldest and most enigmatic figure, which could symbolize the persistence of beauty, memory, or life itself, even in a place that anticipates the end.

 * The Receptionist and The Executive: These are archetypal figures of dehumanized bureaucracy. The receptionist is "stern and efficient," of "indefinite age," underscoring her role as an automaton. The Executive, "impeccably dressed in a suit" and with a "grave air," represents unbreakable authority, an unappealable destiny. The indifference with which they treat the characters highlights the characters' powerlessness against a larger system that controls them.

 * The Doors: The "main door" for entry and the "office door" in the background are significant. The first, the entrance to this "waiting room," and the second, the exit to the unknown (the "final admission").

2. Characters and Their Arcs

The characters, despite their superficial interactions, reveal layers of their personalities and internal struggles.

 * Arturo (38 years old): He's the catalyst for much of the conversation. His "trick" (suggesting an attempt to hasten his fate) and his weariness from waiting position him as someone seeking control and an end. His desire to "meet with Sergio" and his eventual acceptance of fate, along with Max, make him a central figure in the resolution. He represents the search for an exit, even if it's a forced one.

 * Sofía (29 years old): Initially engrossed, she becomes more open and confrontational as the dialogue progresses. Her sarcasm towards Francisco and Max, her dream of the bull (symbolizing confrontation with death or an inevitable but not necessarily violent fate), and her eventual emotional farewell to Arturo show her as someone who battles against indifference and the vulgarity of life. Her uncontrollable laughter and the wake anecdote suggest a way of coping with absurdity and tragedy through irreverence.

 * Francisco (28 years old): The youngest of the group, he projects an image of immaturity ("like a teenager," "hungry puppy"). His economic precarity and his anecdotes of failed conquests paint him as someone who hasn't yet found his place or purpose. His reflections on alcohol and his inability to act, despite being aware of his problems, reveal him as a character trapped in inertia and self-deception. Despite his superficiality, he's capable of remembering shared moments and possesses a certain naiveté that makes him vulnerable.

 * Margo (65 years old): Absorbed and almost inaudible at first, she emerges as a matriarchal figure carrying painful wisdom. Her repeated phrase, "It's useless to cultivate memories, it's absurd," is a mantra that encapsulates despair and resignation towards memory and the past. Her husband's death and her toughness in the face of pain have marked her, and she transmits this view to Max, her son.

 * Max (39 years old): Elegant and seemingly distant, he's the character who most explicitly verbalizes his existential anguish. His problem with "communication," "distrust," and "fear of others" isolates him. His dream of the "diving pit" as a "grave" is a direct metaphor for his perception of death as an inevitable "plunge." Despite his apparent harshness, his vulnerability is exposed through his mother and his final decision to accompany Arturo. He represents exhaustion, neurosis, and direct confrontation with futility.

 * Sara (35 years old): Asleep at the beginning, she's awakened by the reality of her situation. Her idealism, contrasted by Francisco's cynicism, positions her as the only one who still believes in the possibility of change or a "leader." The revelation of her son Marco's illness is the play's hardest blow and connects her to the deepest vulnerability and pain, symbolizing a mother's tireless struggle.

3. Main Themes

 * Death as a Bureaucratic Process: This is the central theme. The "waiting room" is the antechamber to death. The "transfer," "final admission," "files," "documentation errors" (BF-005, BF-0650), and the confiscation of days are terms that strip death of its solemnity, turning it into a cold, impersonal administrative procedure. This prompts reflection on how society (or existence itself) can reduce the most transcendental human experience to a mere process.

 * Time and Waiting: The characters are trapped in a wait that consumes them. Time dissolves into incomprehensible procedures and agonizing anticipation. Arturo's "trick" and the postponement of his "transfer" emphasize the impossibility of controlling one's own destiny, even when attempting to manipulate the system.

 * Memory and Forgetting: Margo and Max are the main exponents of this theme, with the idea that "it's useless to cultivate memories, it's absurd." However, Francisco contradicts this by asserting that memory "gives us meaning, cursed or full of light," even though he destroys his own "proof." This raises the question of the value of personal history and whether attachment to the past is a burden or a source of meaning.

 * Solitude and Human Connection: Despite being together in the room, there's a profound loneliness in each character. Interactions are often superficial, confrontational, or filled with misunderstanding. However, moments like the embrace of Arturo, the concern for Marco, or Max's decision to go with Arturo, suggest that, even at the end, human connection and affection are the only possible comforts.

 * Search for Meaning vs. Absurdity: The play balances between the desperate search for meaning (Sara with her idealism, Max with his reflection on his life as a teacher) and the recognition of the absurd (Francisco with his inability to act, Sofía with her cynicism, the very bureaucratic nature of death). Max's line, "Sometimes I stare into the void and nothing happens. Nothing. I just get anxious that nothing is happening and that I'm sure nothing will happen," is the essence of this struggle.

 * Human Vulnerability: Francisco's economic precarity, Marco's illness, Max's existential anguish, and Arturo's fatigue all illustrate the fragility of the human condition in the face of larger forces, whether social, personal, or metaphysical.

4. Style and Tone

 * Realistic and Agile Dialogue: The play relies heavily on dialogue, which sounds authentic and reflects each character's personality. There are interruptions, sarcasm, intimate confessions, and moments of lightness that contrast with the gravity of the situation.

 * Dark Comedy and Sarcasm: Despite the somber theme, there are moments of dark humor and sarcasm, especially in the interactions between Sofía and Francisco, and Max's comments. This lightens the dramatic load and highlights the absurdity of the situation.

 * Fragmentation: Conversations jump from one topic to another, reflecting the mental dispersion of people waiting and the lack of linear narrative control over their own lives.

 * Somber and Reflective Tone: Although there are moments of humor, the overall tone is melancholic and deeply reflective about life, death, and purpose.

5. Staging Considerations

Bringing "Waiting Room" to the stage would require a minimalist yet evocative approach, emphasizing the claustrophobic and timeless nature of the setting.

 * Set Design: The "discreet desk," "uncomfortable armchairs," and "small table" should be stark and functional, perhaps with muted colors to enhance the "sordid" feel. The "impersonal paintings: still lifes" could be genuinely generic or subtly unsettling. The red roses in the corner should be a striking pop of color, drawing the eye and serving as a focal point for Margo's action. The doors (main and office) should be distinct and perhaps even imposing, especially the office door which represents the ultimate threshold.

 * Lighting: Lighting could be used to emphasize the passage of time (subtle shifts from morning to afternoon, though time itself is fluid) or to highlight individual characters during monologues or moments of introspection. A dim, almost sterile wash could reinforce the bureaucratic, lifeless atmosphere, with occasional spotlights on characters as they speak, drawing the audience's focus to their internal struggles.

 * Sound Design: Beyond dialogue, minimal sound effects would be powerful. The occasional subtle sound of a typewriter from the receptionist's desk could emphasize the antiquated bureaucracy. The distant, muffled sounds of a city (cars, faint chatter) could occasionally break through, underscoring the feeling that "streets and people were very far away," a stark contrast to the enclosed space. Moments of silence are explicitly marked in the script and should be carefully observed to build tension and allow the weight of the dialogue to settle.

 * Blocking and Movement: The characters' initial stillness and discomfort in the chairs should be maintained. Movement should be purposeful and reveal character: Francisco's nervous page-flipping, Arturo's anxious embrace of his briefcase, Sara's fumbling with papers, Margo's deliberate action with the roses, Max's elegant but annoyed entry. The Executive's entrances and exits should be crisp and authoritative, emphasizing his power. The final goodbyes would require careful choreography to convey the emotional weight of each interaction within the minute given.

 * Costumes: Costumes should reflect the characters' descriptions: The Executive "impeccably dressed," Max "very elegant," Francisco perhaps a bit disheveled, Sara in her "worn artisan wool bag," Sofía in more contemporary attire. These details subtly reinforce their social standing and internal states.

6. Audience Reception

"Waiting Room" is likely to elicit a range of powerful reactions from an audience.

 * Initial Engagement: The everyday setting and relatable characters would immediately draw audiences in, creating a sense of "I've been there." The initial banter and character introductions establish a seemingly normal, albeit somewhat dysfunctional, group dynamic.

 * Growing Unease and Identification: As the play progresses and the underlying themes of death, bureaucracy, and existential dread emerge, audience members would likely experience a growing sense of unease. They might begin to identify with the characters' anxieties about time, purpose, and the unknown. The play's allegorical nature would encourage deeper reflection, prompting questions about their own lives and their relationship with mortality.

 * Emotional Impact: The revelations about Marco's illness and Max's decision to "go with" Arturo would be particularly poignant. The raw vulnerability of characters like Sara and Max, contrasted with the cynical humor, would create a complex emotional landscape. The final scene, with Arturo's resigned acceptance and Max's choice, would likely leave a lasting impression of profound sadness tempered by a quiet dignity.

 * Intellectual Provocation: The play doesn't offer easy answers, instead it provokes thought. The dialogue about memory, meaning, and the absurdity of life would stimulate intellectual engagement. Audiences might leave debating the play's interpretation of death and the human condition.

 * Resonance of the Universal: Ultimately, the play taps into universal fears and experiences: the fear of the unknown, the struggle for agency, the desire for connection, and the confrontation with mortality. This universality would ensure a strong emotional and intellectual resonance.

7. Generational Conclusions Regarding Death

"Waiting Room" offers a fascinating, albeit bleak, commentary on how different generations might perceive and cope with death and the end of life.

 * The Younger Generation (Francisco, Sofía): Francisco (28) and Sofía (29) embody a more immediate, perhaps even flippant, relationship with life and death. Francisco's struggles are primarily financial and interpersonal, rooted in the present. His reflections on death are intellectualized ("alley without the concept of an exit") rather than deeply personal until he mentions Esteban's death. Sofía, with her irreverent humor and focus on fleeting relationships, initially appears less burdened by existential dread. Their discussions often revolve around personal grievances or fleeting pleasures, reflecting a generation still actively engaged in the "game of life," even if struggling. Their "waiting" is frustrating but not yet fully understood as an inevitable end.

 * The Middle Generation (Arturo, Max, Sara): Arturo (38), Max (39), and Sara (35) carry the heaviest existential weight. They are old enough to have accumulated regrets, experienced significant losses (Marco's illness, Max's father's death), and faced personal and professional disillusionment.

   * Arturo seeks to control his fate, even if through "cheating," and expresses a deep weariness. His "desire to meet with Sergio" hints at a longing for a reunion beyond this life.

   * Max is consumed by neurosis and the fear of a meaningless existence. His "turning the page" reflects a profound exhaustion with life as he knows it. For this generation, death isn't just a distant concept but a palpable, approaching reality, a "diving pit" that must be faced.

   * Sara, despite her idealism, is grounded by the harsh reality of her son's illness. Her perspective is shaped by caregiving and the fragility of life. For her, death isn't a philosophical concept but a deeply personal threat, embodying the relentless struggle of a parent.

     This generation is at a pivotal point where the illusions of youth have faded, and the stark realities of mortality become undeniable. Their "waiting" is a process of internal reckoning.

 * The Older Generation (Margo): Margo (65) represents a hardened, resigned acceptance of death and the futility of life's attachments. Her mantra, "It's useless to cultivate memories, it's absurd," speaks to a life lived, perhaps marked by too much loss, leading to a detachment from the past as a coping mechanism. She has faced profound grief (her husband's death without tears) and now stands as a somber guide to her son. Her "small mists, exact schedules and daily visits" suggest a life already scaled back, quietly waiting. For her, death is less a fear and more a quiet, known certainty, a natural progression where "nothing will be the same," but life will continue in its reduced form.

In conclusion, the play suggests that while death is an absolute and impersonal bureaucratic process that awaits all, the journey towards it is experienced profoundly differently across generations. Younger individuals may grapple with more immediate life struggles, while the middle-aged confront deeper existential exhaustion and the weight of their choices. The older generation, having weathered significant loss, may adopt a more detached, resigned acceptance, viewing memory itself as a burden. The ultimate act of choosing to "go together" (Arturo and Max) transcends these generational differences, suggesting that perhaps the only true defiance against the impersonal machinery of death is the solidarity and shared humanity found in the final moments.

Análisis e Interpretación Completa de "SALA DE ESPERA"

La obra de Benjamín Gavarre, "Sala de Espera", es una pieza de teatro que, a primera vista, presenta una situación cotidiana: un grupo de personas aguardando en una oficina burocrática. Sin embargo, a medida que la trama avanza y los diálogos se despliegan, se revela una profunda exploración de temas existenciales, la condición humana, la mortalidad, el paso del tiempo, el arrepentimiento y la búsqueda de sentido en un entorno que parece despojado de él.

1. Elementos Escénicos y Simbolismo

El setting de la "sala de espera" es crucial.

 * La Sala: No es solo un espacio físico, sino una metáfora del limbo, de la transición. Es un lugar donde la vida, o quizás la existencia, se encuentra en un estado de pausa indefinida, a merced de una autoridad impersonal. Los "incómodos sillones" y los "cuadros impersonales" refuerzan la sensación de desasosiego y anonimato.

 * Las Rosas Rojas: Este "arreglo floral" es el único elemento con cierta vitalidad y color en un ambiente descrito como "sórdido" e "impersonal". Son compradas por Margo, la figura más anciana y enigmática, lo que podría simbolizar la persistencia de la belleza, la memoria o la vida misma, incluso en un lugar que anticipa el fin.

 * La Recepcionista y El Ejecutivo: Son figuras arquetípicas de la burocracia deshumanizada. La recepcionista es "adusta y eficiente", de "edad indefinida", lo que subraya su rol como un autómata. El Ejecutivo, "impecablemente vestido de traje" y con un "aire grave", representa la autoridad inquebrantable, el destino inapelable. La indiferencia con la que tratan a los personajes acentúa la impotencia de estos frente a un sistema mayor que los controla.

 * Las Puertas: La "puerta principal" de entrada y la "puerta de un despacho" al fondo son significativas. La primera, la entrada a esta "sala de espera", y la segunda, la salida hacia lo desconocido (el "ingreso final").

2. Personajes y sus Arc os

Los personajes, a pesar de sus interacciones superficiales, revelan capas de sus personalidades y sus luchas internas.

 * Arturo (38 años): Es el catalizador de gran parte de la conversación. Su "trampa" (que sugiere un intento de adelantar su destino) y su cansancio por la espera lo posicionan como alguien que busca control y un final. Su deseo de "reunirse con Sergio" y su aceptación final del destino, junto con Max, lo convierten en una figura central en la resolución. Representa la búsqueda de una salida, incluso si es una forzada.

 * Sofía (29 años): Ensimismada al principio, se muestra más abierta y confrontativa a medida que avanza el diálogo. Su sarcasmo hacia Francisco y Max, su sueño del toro (simbolizando la confrontación con la muerte o un destino inevitable pero no necesariamente violento) y su eventual despedida emotiva con Arturo, la muestran como una persona que lucha contra la indiferencia y la vulgaridad de la vida. Su risa incontrolable y su anécdota del velorio sugieren una forma de lidiar con el absurdo y la tragedia a través de la irreverencia.

 * Francisco (28 años): El más joven del grupo, proyecta una imagen de inmadurez ("como un adolescente," "perrito hambriento"). Su precariedad económica y sus anécdotas de conquistas fallidas lo pintan como alguien que aún no ha encontrado su lugar ni propósito. Sus reflexiones sobre el alcohol y la incapacidad de actuar, a pesar de la conciencia de sus problemas, lo revelan como un personaje atrapado en la inercia y el autoengaño. A pesar de su superficialidad, es capaz de recordar momentos compartidos y de una cierta ingenuidad que lo hace vulnerable.

 * Margo (65 años): Absorta y casi inaudible al principio, emerge como una figura matriarcal y portadora de una sabiduría dolorosa. Su frase repetida, "Es inútil cultivar recuerdos, es absurdo," es un mantra que encapsula la desesperanza y la resignación ante la memoria y el pasado. La muerte de su esposo y su dureza ante el dolor la han marcado, y ella transmite esta visión a Max, su hijo.

 * Max (39 años): Elegante y aparentemente distante, es el personaje que más explícitamente verbaliza su angustia existencial. Su problema de "comunicación," "desconfianza" y "miedo a los demás" lo aísla. Su sueño de la "fosa de clavados" como una "tumba" es una metáfora directa de su percepción de la muerte como un "salto" inevitable. A pesar de su aparente dureza, su vulnerabilidad se expone a través de su madre y su decisión final de acompañar a Arturo. Representa el agotamiento, la neurosis y la confrontación directa con la futilidad.

 * Sara (35 años): Dormida al inicio, es despertada por la realidad de su situación. Su idealismo, contrastado por el cinismo de Francisco, la posiciona como la única que aún cree en la posibilidad de un cambio o un "líder". La revelación de la enfermedad de Marco, su hijo, es el golpe más duro de la obra y la conecta con la vulnerabilidad y el dolor más profundos, simbolizando la lucha incansable de una madre.

3. Temas Principales

 * La Muerte como Proceso Burocrático: El tema central. La "sala de espera" es el antesala de la muerte. La "transferencia," el "ingreso final," los "expedientes," los "errores en la documentación" (BF-005, BF-0650), y la confiscación de días son términos que despojan a la muerte de su solemnidad, convirtiéndola en un trámite administrativo frío e impersonal. Esto genera una reflexión sobre cómo la sociedad (o la existencia misma) puede reducir la experiencia humana más trascendental a un mero procedimiento.

 * El Tiempo y la Espera: Los personajes están atrapados en una espera que los consume. El tiempo se diluye en trámites incomprensibles y en una anticipación angustiante. La "trampa" de Arturo y la postergación de su "transferencia" enfatizan la imposibilidad de controlar el propio destino, incluso intentando manipular el sistema.

 * La Memoria y el Olvido: Margo y Max son los principales exponentes de este tema, con la idea de que "es inútil cultivar recuerdos, es absurdo." Sin embargo, Francisco lo contradice al afirmar que la memoria "nos da sentido, maldita o llena de luz," aunque él mismo destruya sus propias "pruebas." Esto plantea la pregunta sobre el valor de la historia personal y si el apego al pasado es una carga o una fuente de significado.

 * La Soledad y la Conexión Humana: A pesar de estar juntos en la sala, hay una profunda soledad en cada personaje. Las interacciones son a menudo superficiales, confrontacionales o llenas de incomprensión. Sin embargo, momentos como el abrazo a Arturo, la preocupación por Marco, o la decisión de Max de irse con Arturo, sugieren que, incluso al final, la conexión humana y el afecto son los únicos consuelos posibles.

 * La Búsqueda de Sentido vs. el Absurdo: La obra se balancea entre la desesperada búsqueda de significado (Sara con su idealismo, Max con su reflexión sobre su vida como maestro) y el reconocimiento del absurdo (Francisco con su incapacidad de actuar, Sofía con su cinismo, la naturaleza misma del proceso burocrático de la muerte). La frase de Max, "De repente miro al vacío y no pasa nada. Nada. Sólo me angustio de que no pase nada y de que estoy seguro no pasará nada," es la esencia de esta lucha.

 * La Vulnerabilidad Humana: La precariedad económica de Francisco, la enfermedad de Marco, la angustia existencial de Max y la fatiga de Arturo, todos ilustran la fragilidad de la condición humana frente a fuerzas mayores, ya sean sociales, personales o metafísicas.

4. Estilo y Tono

 * Diálogo Realista y Ágil: La obra se basa fuertemente en los diálogos, que suenan auténticos y reflejan las personalidades de cada personaje. Hay interrupciones, sarcasmo, confesiones íntimas y momentos de ligereza que contrastan con la gravedad de la situación.

 * Comedia Negra y Sarcasmo: A pesar del tema sombrío, hay momentos de humor negro y sarcasmo, especialmente en las interacciones entre Sofía y Francisco, y los comentarios de Max. Esto aligera la carga dramática y resalta el absurdo de la situación.

 * Fragmentación: Las conversaciones saltan de un tema a otro, reflejando la dispersión mental de las personas en espera y la falta de un control narrativo lineal sobre sus propias vidas.

 * Tono Sombrío y Reflexivo: Aunque hay momentos de humor, el tono general es melancólico y profundamente reflexivo sobre la vida, la muerte y el propósito.

5. Interpretación Profunda

"Sala de Espera" es una alegoría de la vida misma, vista como una interminable sala de espera hacia la muerte. Los personajes son almas en tránsito, cada una lidiando con sus propias cargas, arrepentimientos y expectativas. La "oficina" y sus "trámites" pueden interpretarse como el destino, el karma o simplemente la indiferencia cósmica. La vida se reduce a "requisitos" y "expedientes," despojando a la existencia de su trascendencia.

La decisión final de Max de acompañar a Arturo, a pesar de tener más "días," es un momento crucial. Sugiere que, ante la inevitabilidad del final, la compañía y la elección consciente de no esperar pasivamente son actos de afirmación. Es un rechazo a la soledad del proceso y una aceptación de la conexión en el momento final. La frase de Arturo al final, "todo está en orden, qué curioso. Yo pensaba que tenía algo más que hacer o qué decir, pero no... Nada qué hacer, Max. Nada," es una conclusión desoladora pero liberadora. Implica que, al final, las grandes ambiciones, los logros y las palabras a menudo carecen de importancia frente a la simple y absoluta realidad de la partida. La vida es la espera, y la muerte es simplemente el momento en que se "cierra la puerta" de esa sala.

La obra nos invita a reflexionar sobre cómo vivimos nuestra propia espera: ¿nos aferramos a la memoria, la despreciamos, buscamos significado, caemos en la inercia, o intentamos forzar nuestro camino? En última instancia, sugiere que, aunque el "ingreso final" sea inevitable y burocrático, la forma en que nos relacionamos y el significado que le damos a nuestra "espera" son las únicas variables que podemos controlar.