Playhouse 25 by Ruth Rivas
PLAYHOUSE 25…On their way to see a movie, the students hear a gunshot and see a figure running up the alley behind the theatre. They foolishly follow the action.
RUTH…turns the tide on a gunman intent on robbing her of a paper clip, two rusty pennies and some gum.
Playhouse 25
There I stood, standing face to gun. I was actually going to die. I was going to die as a broke and single college student. That was the worst of it all. I couldn’t see whose face was holding the gun until all the lights flashed on. It was actually a stranger. I thought this would be some dramatic reunion with someone who hated me, but no, it wasn’t. He had long grayish-white hair and a lot of wrinkles. Once I got a stench in my nose, I could assume he was homeless or was definitely going through something. Is this really how I will die? From a stinky person pointing a gun at me.
“Give me your money,” he said.
“No,” I responded.
“I don’t think you heard me correctly. I said, Give me your money,” He repeats.
And I repeat, “no.”
“Do you not see me point a gun at you? Do you even want to live?” he asked.
Of course, I wanted to live, but I would rather get hurt than get robbed by a homeless man holding a gun. Just imagine how that would look in the news. Young Teenage Girl gets shot by a Homeless Man during a Robbery Gone Wrong. Absolutely not, but I still don’t want to die just yet. I know I would be missed, because literally, who wouldn’t miss me?
“I’m not playing around! Give me your money or else…” He raises his raspy voice. He gets the gun closer to my forehead, and I can’t help but feel bad for the guy. He could’ve chosen anyone else, but he landed on me.
“I can’t.” – Me
“Why not?” – Old Man
I don’t respond, feeling embarrassed about what I’m going to say. Instead, I shut my mouth and shake my head. The man sees this, and he gets more agitated than he already was.
“That’s enough! Give me what you have. NOW!” He yells as he extends his free arm towards me.
“If you say so…” I say as I shrug and reach into my pockets. I pull out what I have and open my fist to reveal my belongings. A paper clip, wrapped up gum that had already been chewed, a ripped dollar, and two rusty pennies. I look up to see the man’s expression, and he looks so sad.
“I warned you that you didn’t want to rob me.” – Me
“This is just pitiful. How can you be poorer than me? I’m homeless, but I still have a five-dollar bill. You, on the other hand, have barely anything.” – Old Man
“Listen, man, I spent my remaining money on a Wendy’s Biggie Bag.” – Me
“Ew, gross, why would you choose to eat at Wendy’s?” – Old Man
“Yo, chill out. The Wendy’s Biggie Bags are actually the best $5 meals. They were the originals, not McDonald’s, AND their burgers are better. No one is better than the original!” – Me
“That’s so sad. Listen, kid, go live your life to the fullest. You’re still young and have a lot of life ahead of you. You know what, here, take this.” The old man says as he lowers his gun and reaches into his pocket. He hands me his own five-dollar bill.
“Treat yourself to something nice.” – Old Man
“Thank you. I appreciate it, even though you were threatening to take my life just now.” – Me
“Yeah, no problem, I see being homeless may be better sometimes. Anyway, go on now. I have other people to start threatening for money.” – Old Man
And so, I left. I was able to walk away with my life. Imagine that. You were getting jumped by a homeless man, but he ends up giving you money because you’re the broke one, ironic. That’s just sad.
Ruth Rivas
October 17, 2025