Original
Cindy and Max’s Apartment, Sector 5, Seattle – November 12, 10:00 pm

Max stood at the door,
her hand raised. She didn’t want to startle Original Cindy, but it was
her home. She was home. As she continued to mull over her options,
the door swung open.

“Damn, girl, I wondered
how long it was gonna take you to get your bony behind up here. Been
watchin’ you standin’ down in the street for practically twenty minutes.”

Original Cindy grabbed
Max and enveloped her in a warm hug, pulling her tight. After a moment,
she released Max and stood back, looking her roommate up and down.

“Looks like that dream
vacation didn’t leave you too much the worse for the wear.”

Max snorted. “Still
kickin’. So�you up for sharin’ our crib again?”

“Damn straight, girlfriend.
Original Cindy was not made for single livin’.”

She stepped back and
let Max enter the apartment. Max walked in and looked around the room.

“Home sweet home.”

“You bet. Original
Cindy didn’t change a thing while you were gone.”

Max set down her bag
and sighed. “You sure? ‘Bout havin’ me here?” she asked. “I don’t want
to be in your way with Ginger.”

“Original Cindy’s
wondering the same thing. Why you want to come back to this crib? I
figured you’d be movin’ on up to the East Side with Logan.”

Max stared at Original
Cindy for a moment, a confused look on her face. “East side? Who lives
on the east side?”

Original Cindy sighed.
“Man, girl, we need to teach you some lessons about basic African-American
history and the story of how our people finally broke the color barrier
in situation comedy. But anyway, you’re not movin’ right in with Logan?”

“Not the right time,”
Max answered.

“My thoughts exactly,”
Original Cindy replied.

“Men.”

“Women.”

They both laughed
and Original Cindy pulled Max into another long hug. When she pulled
back, she took Max’s hands in hers and examined Max’s fingernails.

“Well, some things
never change…these things are raggedy, girl.”

“You thought I came
back here for the view?” Max teased.

“I’ll get you fixed
up in no time,” Original Cindy answered.

Max sat down on the
couch while Original Cindy set a teakettle on the burner in the kitchen.

“So, you had enough
of Chez Terminal City?” Original Cindy asked.

“Yeah…enough to
last me a lifetime,” Max answered, as she leaned her head back on the
top edge of the couch.

“You make Mole the
new mayor?”

“Somethin’ like that.
He seemed to want to stay, along with some of the others. Personally,
I couldn’t wait to get out of there…beds sucked, food sucked…a girl
needs her space.”

“Hurtin’ your love
life?”

“Major cramp in my
style,” Max answered.

“So what are you doing
here?” her friend asked.

“Well, I don’t know
about you, but…well…he didn’t ask. Just told me he was going home.
What about Ginger?”

“Said she still had
stuff to take care of there…had to look out for the ones who would
still need to break bread in the commissary.”

“Responsible woman,”
Max replied.

“Yeah,” Original Cindy
answered.

“Men.”

“Women.”

>>
ACT
I